You attempt to destress in the only way you know how.

Slamming the door behind you as you enter your apartment, you look around to make sure that nothing else has changed. The closet to your left is still ajar from when you left earlier today, your jacket and boots lying on the ground amidst other clutter.

Stumbling past, you take in your living room with it's single sofa, an old recliner your parents had given you, and your pride and joy; a top of the line home entertainment system with all the current consoles ready at a moment's notice. You are new in town and wanted to invest in making sure that if you had anyone over to hang out that you could entertain them first, and provide secondary comforts second. Your kitchenette holds mostly beer with some frozen pizzas; you eat out most nights, so you aren't home much.

Trying to refocus your thoughts, you hurry to your computer in your office space and sit down. Finally you allow yourself to breath, and start thinking about what happened today. Seriously, what happened? You went window shopping to kill time, you found that...magic store? It had vibes of one of those 'alternative medicine' shams you see on the internet sometimes, but this one took itself way to seriously. Crystals hanging in the window, exotic plants growing in strange pots all around, the whole nine yards. You remember now that Gwen herself had on very form fitting black top on revealing her midriff, and down her arms were fishnet sleeves that...wait, you didn't notice that the first time you saw her, right? So why are you thinking about it now?

You scrutinize your memories of the purchase again, and realize you can recall much more information about the day than before. You remember your walk down the street, you remember taking out the wand and starting to read the tag, and you remember...

...Huh. The writing on the tag itself is still eluding you. What isn't eluding you is how hard your dick has gotten in your pants, painfully so. You have put off satisfying this (not so little, you think proudly to yourself) problem until now, but you can't any longer. You pop open your computer and open up one of your favorite porn sites, pornzzers, and click on the first video you see. It's of some woman with a blonde ponytail, cocksucking lips, sultry eyes, and massive tits for her small frame dressed in lingerie wrapping her mouth around some lucky dudes' cock. The bimbo was moaning in just the right way that gets you going. You unzipped your pants and started stroking, trying to loose yourself in the erotic movements of the video. You focus deeper into the video, not realizing that you still had the wand in your pants pocket. Your rapid movements offset the back of your shirt just enough that it began to tap your lower back lightly with every stroke, just soft enough for you not to notice.

A few more minutes pass, and you are nearing the end of the video and the end of your stamina. You feel yourself getting close, when a voice rings out from your computer, saying 'that's right, baby. Guzzle down that cum like the slutty bimbo you are. Smother those pillowy lips and glaze your face!' You feel your erection wilt just as you finish and you groan out of frustration; the camera man had decided to ruin the video by talking at the end. You look down at yourself and see that your hand is now covered in your jizz. 'Gross' you think to yourself, the haze of lust leaving your mind, and you stand up to clean yourself off, when you finally notice the wand poking you in the back. You reach back absent mindedly with your cum covered hand and pull the stick out of your pocket, grimacing at the sight, and toss the wood onto your desk to think about later, moving now to clean up.

Though it is to minute for you to notice now, your fingers which touched the wand, as well as your palm, are mysteriously semen-free as you tidy up, and the wand itself is clean as well, though it now has a barely perceptible shimmer when the light hits it.

Regardless, you are exhausted now, and decide that you'd better get to bed now to sleep off your adrenaline rush. You can think about what happened today tomorrow, right? Content in your obviously smart choices, you head to your bedroom, toss yourself to the mattress, and promptly fall asleep.