Play dumb.

You debate about this for a few minutes; perhaps more than you rightly should. Finally, you send a text out to James, rather simple and straightforward.

Hey, I can't make heads or tails out of this stuff. I hate to admit it, but I feel like a total airhead right now. It makes a lot more sense when you explain it, not reading these big books.

You hope that you're not pouring it on too thick; that it isn't completely obvious what you're up to. He'll figure it out sooner or later; ideally once you're in his pants, but if he guesses that you find his stash of bimbo porn and are trying to play it up he might get embarrassed or angry rather than turned on, which isn't what you want. Even if you still think his fascination with these seeming fuckdolls that have more silicone than brains is a little weird, you don't want him embarass or shame him for his weird shit. You're not your parents, you're not those people at church. If people involved in consent and nobody's getting hurt, they can do whatever the fuck they want, you realize. Thinking back to some of the stuff you saw in his bookmarks, that's a little harder to embrace in practice than in theory, but you're trying.

You try to help allay suspicions that something is up, by waiting. If you sent that the moment you had gotten home, it would look like you weren't really trying. After a few hours? It starts to make sense. In the meantime, you actually do try to make a character for real. You'll keep this under wraps for now, but with some effort, you try to figure out how to make a Bard. The greatest difficulty for you is keeping focussed, but even that isn't terrible. After some calculated time, you send the text off. You start to reflexively feel your heart thumping in your chest in worry, which only compounds when you realize it's happening and why. You're nervous about how a text is received so that a guy you barely knows can come over and fuck you. As absurd as it sounds, and as much as you want to be angry with yourself over it, you can't help but get turned on by the idea. Do you actually start to like the idea of being a dumb little plaything? No, it can't be that.

The worry of what may happen falls through quickly, as you get a response back after only a few minutes.

Sorry to hear that you're having trouble with it. It's a lot to wrap your head around the first time. I'll come over tomorrow and we can work our heads together and get you a character you really like.

Tomorrow? Really? You have to wait on this until tomorrow? What's he so busy doing? His previous plan was sitting at home and watching Star Wars all day! You try to gain control of yourself, trying to recognize that one day isn't the end of the world. Better yet, he's still in, and doesn't seem to suspect anything. As you work yourself down, you try to figure out why you got so impatient all of the sudden. As you lay there naked in your bed, it slowly dawns on you. You're having sex withdrawls. Well, maybe not that; you're not a sex addict....you're pretty sure. Still, you've had James' cock and his cum three days in a row, and have reveled in the sensations, and now that you're finding yourself sexually for the first time, not having it is proving to be a let down for you.

Thinking about it more gets you turned on again. Tossing everything off the bed, you start to fantasize about what would happen if he did come by straight away, rubbing yourself slowly as you go. Would you greet him by the door naked and just go straight to sucking his cock? No, that would be way too abrupt, even for you at this point. You're going to play this out with him some more; how exactly, you don't know. Slowly egg him on that you can't think, because something else is on your mind. His thick, veiny cock. You let him take you to bed as he gets on top of you, with you on your back just as you are now, and let him fuck you as hard and fast as he wants. You wonder how it looks from his position, seeing your massive tits bob back and forth as he pounds into you. You feel yourself about to get off, and just at the very edge, you stop. You clench your whole body tight as you try to resist the orgasm coming, and proceed to lay there for a minute as you relax, swimming in your aroused state.

Why did I do that? You wonder to yourself. That wasn't part of the deal like last night, there was no agreement to not get off after you left James' apartment. In fact, you're sure that at least once between now and coming over he's going to beat his meat; he's that big of a horny perv. So why? Because it plays into the fantasy. You know from firsthand experience, being in this self-aroused state, and without any way to release the tension, it becomes harder to think about anything other than sex. It will be convincing when James finally comes over.

You finally opt to put clothes back on, to stop yourself from going all the way and ruining everything. With so much of the day left over, and so little to do, you try to go back to your old, normal, boring life, of being a straight A student, getting ahead of your classes. Even without having gotten yourself all worked up, it is painfully boring where you didn't mind before. You struggle to find the point of all of this that you had just a few days ago had no problem with. Struggling, you finish what you set out to do, having downloaded some games on your phone to try in the meantime. You're still not a 'gamer' by any definition, but you get the attraction. The moment your work is done, you descend headlong into them, not stopping until you start to get a low battery warning. It wasn't until than that you realized what time it was; 8pm. You killed most of the day doing absolutely nothing productive, and it felt amazing. You realize you want to feel like this even more. You depart for the real world just long enough to get some food, than quickly retire to your dorm room, where you can live your blissfully ignorant life, at least for a while. You get back in bed and masturbate one more time, yet again stopping seconds before you cum. As frustrating as it is to do this, you find the lustful after affects of it intoxicating and actually blissful. Nothing else matters when you feel like this, nothing bothers you, and you're content in your own thoughts. You go to sleep in a hot mess, excited to see what happens tomorrow.