Anal fantasies intrude in her thoughts

"So, what was Alexander's secret to sucess in battle, class?"

Cassie's hand shot up. Professor Melanie Close, who taught Hellenistic History, looked at her smiling.

"He would penetrate his enemy's rear."

Stifled laughter echoed through the class. Professor Close's face assumed a studiously neutral expression.

"Correct, flanking and envelopment were key parts of Alexander's tactics. These are well-known tactics, but very difficult to pull off in actual battle because the enemy general almost always anticipates it and does the same. How Alexander actually executed this against battle-tested..."

Cassie flushed a deep scarlet, realizing what she'd said, but thankfully the class moved on.

An image flashed through her mind of a greek Adonis embracing her from behind in a lamplit tent. He pulled her oiled body against him, bronzed skin sparkling in flickering flame. His "spear" hugged between her ass cheeks.

"Fuck my ass!" she cried in her imagination, and only barely stopped her lips from moving. Her imaginary lover obeyed, entering her with an impossibly fat cock, the ghost of ecstasy filled her mind, the imagined sensation of being stretched to the breaking point, beyond even Steve's probing hand yesterday, along with the aching reality of how empty her ass really was.

My ass needs to be filled. Emptyiness is agony, fullness is ecstasy. Fill me, fill me, fill me!

The power of her feeling crashed over her. As the lecture ended she nearly fled the room. Her friend Monica, tall black-haired lesbian with a cute punk look (opposites from her in a lot of ways, but similarly studious and a friend since high school) caught up with her.

"What's wrong Cass?", Monica asked, blunt as always.

The image in her mind suddenly transformed, tatooed, slender-but-ripped Monica putting on a strapon while Cassie kneeled, eagerly pulling her ass cheeks apart to present her gaping hole.

"No-Nothing Monica, just not feeling great," Cassie said and gave a convincingly queasy grin, "I've got to get back to my dorm."

Monica gave her a sympathetic but unconvinced nod, and let her go.

Back in the dorm she threw aside her backpack and went straight for Steve's bag and the butt plug inside. She took it out and just stared at it for a moment. 4 inches long, not much thicker than her thumb at its widest, with a reassuringly flared base. She held it, hand trembling, for maybe a minute, a jumble of need and lust running through her thoughts, mingled streams of shame lost in the torrent.

She stripped her pants off like they were on fire, looked around for her lube then simply put the plug to her mouth, taking it in, rolling her tongue around it, slobbering on it. Lubed with her spit she jammed it into herself, feeling the sudden fullness and pressure. She panted for a moment - she hadn't realized she was breathing hard - then pulled her pants up, straightened herself out, and headed out the door, the plug shifting with every step.