It was the weight of the dildo that did it. That’s what Lila had noticed when she’d picked it up in the sex store and felt it glass heft in her palm. It was wide too, the widest dildo she’d owned, but its glass lubed up so nicely that she could press it into her easily, feeling it stretch her open, prise her wide.
In fact, it got to the point where she had to buy a bigger handbag, just so she could bring the toy with her to work and fuck herself in the restroom, thrusting it deeper and deeper, like a game of truth and dare, until it spiraled her into ecstasy, her cries flooding her throat.
Finally, Lila had become the kind of woman who commits to her climax: Lila fucking herself on her bed, rolling around in a riot of pleasure, orgasms jetting through her body while she clawed the sheets so hard that yet another nail would break. Lila, going away for a whole weekend, then barely leaving the hotel room. Lila, taking two days off work, claiming she was ill, just because she’d decided to try anal--I mean, the box had said it was perfect for anal, so maybe she was too. And now she was yelling out in a giddying forever, telling her pillow she was the dirtiest girl ever….
Yes, it was all about the dildo now, with its lubed up surface, its perfect weight, its glistening form. This miraculous knowledge of her needs was something none of her fly-by dates had achieved.
But she was different now. Fierier. She looked people straight in the eye. Yes, Lila McFaber was powerful and free.
No more fear of spending weekends alone.
No more flirting with assholes, in case they were The One.
No more taking-of-shit for being her own good size.
She’d find a great lover in her own good time, and once she did, this lover would watch, their breath coming hard as she spread her knees wide and fucked herself with that piece of glass. All night, they'd watch her crying out her heaven, their gaze blazing on hers.