She dreams of *deeper* cravings.

She was on her knees, chest down on a bed, ass thrust up in the air. She wasn't bound, but was immobile nonetheless. This should have scared her, but it didn't. Instead, she was overwhelmed by a sense of loss and lust and anxiety all mingled together.

She felt cold air touching her asshole in between her spread cheeks, a reminder of how empty it was, how awful it was to let it go unused, to not let it fulfill its true purpose - taking in big, hard cocks or whatever other toys could fit.

Then she felt a hand touching her ass cheeks, and a sense of calm and happiness. Something soft and warm - a majestic cockhead, she knew instinctively - pressed against her rear entrance. It teased and tantalized her, but wouldn't enter.

"Please, please! I need it, fuck me! I'll do anything!"

She woke with a start, a phantom feeling of penetration just-begun and the images of the dream already fading from her mind.

She tried to put aside the stirrings, to hold to her resolution earlier, but as she got dressed for class and walked out the door she couldn't help but take one last longing look at the bag in her corner with Steve's butt plug.