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Cronkri

I just want you to try them, if you don't like it you don't ever have to use them.

That's what he'd said, hadn't it? Just to try it? Just to try playing with the toys that apparently he hadn't been planning on buying for like... a month. They were an early Christmas gift, he'd said. Yes. Almost three weeks early.

Of course he'd been planning this.

"That thing is horrifying and I'm not putting it inside me."

Cronus just laughs until tears gather in his eyes, hunched over on his couch and you just glare at him with lips pulled into somewhat of a pout as you turn the thing over in your hands. It's a massager of sorts, you gather, like a shortish dildo with a particularly curved head. Soft plastic, probably, and you start squeezing it tightly for a moment to test pliability.

"You say that now, doll, but there's gonna be a time where you need my cock and I won't be there to give it to you."

Then there was the vibrating cock ring, a stretchy thing with a tiny bullet clamped to it that, according to Cronus, was supposed to make your cock harder, make you last longer, and make your orgasm more intense.

You'd called bullshit.

And then you'd had sex on his couch, which was fun.

That was a week ago though.

For the first time in a while, you were at your apartment, the one you and Mituna share, and, after giving Mituna explicit instructions to not come home because I will be busy and he'd just said oh don't worry I have plans of my own and you'd groaned and rolled your eyes, you were waiting for him. He was supposed to come home from swim practice at 10, and, here it was, 9:00, and you already have your hand in your pants.

Your cock is semi-soft, only mildly interested at this point, but you still stare up at the ceiling with your fly open, shuffling around in your boxers.

This was boring. Cronus wasn't going to be home for a whole hour and you were the one who had to hang around with half a boner. Unbelievable.

He can't text, he can't call you, he can't do anything but exist in your imagination at that point, and so you tend to let it get away from you at the best of times. And that's exactly what's about to happen, isn't it? Because you're thinking about bouncing on Cronus's dick and crying for daddy to fuck you harder, aren't you?

Aaaand there's the rock-hard boner that makes you gasp out loud as it comes to life in your fingers. Ho man. You take a deep inhale, feeling it right down to your extremities. God.

You stroke your cock with measured precision, pause, and then shuffle partway out of your skinny jeans, letting them gather around your thighs. Your hand returns, you jerk yourself off slowly as you can. You don't want to cum before he gets home, but you just can't... ignore it like that. Or, maybe you could.

Slowing, and then finally stopping, you stare at the ceiling and let your cock throb in your hand. This is a problem, you decide, sitting up and starting to hitch your pants back up.

Playing Candy Crush on your phone for a little bit should probably calm you down. That game infuriates you enough to kill any boner, no matter how strong.

No matter even if it's brought on with thoughts of sucking on Cronus's cock while you sit on his face and let him call you a bad little slut?

Shit.

"Delicious," Your game decides to chime in, and you make an irritated noise and snap your phone back down onto your nightstand and roll over.

Then you roll back over and stare at your nightstand. At the drawer. At what you know is in the drawer.