Go home and try to distract myself from my misery

That evening, I tried to find some way to distract myself. I didn't want to think about Virginia and what I had done to her. I didn't want to think about how that beautiful experience was a horror show when seen from the other perspective. I put on a movie and ordered a pizza. I had enough beer in my fridge to make me forgetful, and by the time the pizza arrived, I was a good ways past buzzed.

I paid for the pizza and gave a generous tip that expressed the guilt I was still feeling (as if my generosity to one person could compensate for my sins against another). The pizza was delivered by a young girl, probably college aged. Her brown skin was nicely complemented by the yellow shirt of the pizza company, and her short braids dangled under the company visor, the beads in them clinking pleasantly whenever she turned her head. As I took my pizza from her, I said, “Hang on, don't go yet.” She stood still.

“How old are you?”

She bit her lips and remained silent.

“Are you one of my girls?” I asked.

No answer. I sighed, remembering that they had to be commanded to answer me.

“Answer me when I ask a question, and be honest. And... shit... um... don't try to hurt me or get away from me... blah blah blah,” I drunkenly mumbled. “Now, let's try again. How old are you?”

“Twenty,” she answered in a trembling voice.

I was on my way to drunk and deep in self-pity. And I was lonely. I had tried to do what was right but it didn't work. Now it was time to take advantage of what fate had given me.

“Come inside,” I told her, “and call your boss and tell him you're done for the night. Car trouble or whatever shit you need to say to not make him suspicious. And don't mention me or ask for help or anything.”

She did everything according to my instructions. “Siddown and eat with me,” I said, pointing to the couch. We shared the pizza and watched the rest of the movie. “Whashyer name?” I asked her as the credits started to roll.

“Adria,” she whimpered. Aw shit, I forgot that she would still be terrified.

“Adria, chill out. Don't be afraid or worried. Just relax and enjoy being here.” She calmed down and leaned back on the couch. I tried making small talk – asking about school (she was studying to be a vet), family (they lived out of state), hobbies (not much time between studies and work), and boyfriends (not since high school). But I soon got tired of it, and knowing she was only here because I **** her just made it empty. After learning that she had no classes until the next evening, I drunkenly made my plans.

“Adria, tonight we're going to fuck. You're going to be cool with it until you realize I'm going to cum inside you. You'll be freaked out, but you won't do anything to stop me. And in the morning, you'll figure that, since I already filled you up once, there's no harm in it happening again. And again. And again, as long as we have time. Because why not stay and let a guy cum in you, since you won't often get a chance to... you know, not worry about the consequences and shit. Whatever, I'm not making sense, I don't care. Just... go find my bedroom and get ready.”

*****

I don't remember much of the night I spent with Adria, only snippets of images and sounds. I remember entering her and thinking she must have the tightest pussy I had ever felt. I remember having to stop once or twice to get her wet enough to continue. I remember her face – eyes distant and serene, but only because I'd told her to chill out. Large, dark freckles spread across her face and her thin lips parted just enough for her breath to escape in little gasps each time I thrust. Her nose, broad and flat, crinkled at what I assume was my beer breath. But her body was responsive, as I had told her to be. I doubt she came, but I'm sure I did. I remember her panicked pleas for me to pull out. I remember her eyes closing in regret as I groaned my release. I don't remember anything after that.

At some point in the middle of the night, I woke to use the bathroom. I had the presence of mind to grab a water bottle and drink as much as I could. Crawling back into bed, I curled up against my bedmate. Putting my arm over top of her small frame, I tried to find a place to rest my hand but ended up caressing all up and down the front of her body. That was enough to wake up my cock, which wasted no time in entering her from behind. I moved slowly in and out, and sleep overtook me again.

I started dreaming. Dreaming I was in bed, under the covers, masturbating. And my cock was growing into huge and inhuman proportions. I couldn't use my hands anymore, I had my arms wrapped around my cock, still rubbing up and down, thankfully approaching release. Dreams faded into wakefulness, and Adria oofed and grunted through my utilization of her small frame. My arms were fully wrapped around her, just as they had been around my cock in my dream. In truth, I was treating her as nothing more than a toy – a tool to hasten my orgasm. When I was close, I used my grip on her to **** her body up and down, as if she was just an extension of my cock as I masturbated.

I groaned and filled her again, squeezing her tight against me as she fulfilled the reason for her existence in that moment. In a confused state, I patted the pillow above her head, looking to see if I had made a mess when I came. Touching her frizzy hair, I remembered she was a girl, not a mega cock. I chuckled to myself, “Mega-cock,” and dozed off while I softened inside her.

In the morning, my bed was empty. I squinted and grabbed my aching head and tried to remember if I had told her to stay or given her a loophole to leave. After I had used the bathroom and finished the water bottle on the sink, I shuffled out to the kitchen and found Adria eating breakfast calmly. She had on a shirt of mine and her panties.

“You're still here,” I grunted. Not a question, just a comment.

“Figured why not stay and use this chance to feel a guy fill me-” I waved my hand at her and shushed her. I knew she was just saying whatever I had told her to think last night.

“You can leave if you want,” I mumbled, starting to feel remorse.

“Well, of course I can,” she replied. “But like I said, since you came inside me last night, I'm screwed until I take care of that. Why not take the chance to have a whole day of risky sex, knowing I'll just take care of it tomorrow?”

I could give her new commands. I could erase her memory. But I didn't feel like arguing. What I felt like was getting rid of this headache, then seeing how many times Adria could get me to cum inside her before she left for class that evening.

The answer, for the curious, was six.