Stay

Elizabeth is enjoying a little late night solo play when she gets an unexpected phone call from her co-worker, Max. He's drunk, been dumped by his wife, and needs a place to stay, so she allows him to come up to her apartment. She's always been attracted to the married man, but doesn't intend to act on it. Until he reveals a lot more than his broken heart...

Excerpt:
The low buzzing filled my room, the sound almost soothing in a strange way. Even as the source—my trusty vibrator—made me shiver with the beginnings of an orgasm.

It had been a long week at work, and even longer since I’d last gotten laid. Most of the time, I was so busy with my job that I didn’t have the time to go out and find a man. And most men had not proved to be worth the effort.

I found it much easier to take my pleasure into my own hands, so to speak.

And much more satisfying.

I eased the toy a little closer to my clit. I never needed direct stimulation there. Was almost too sensitive to bear to have it touch me in that way. Especially at this time of the month, almost exactly two weeks after my last period.

Having had a former boyfriend who had insisted on keeping track of such things as our main form of birth control, I was very familiar with this part of my cycle and knew I was likely ovulating. Even if I’d had a man to fuck me, I would have to make him wear a condom.

With the distinct lack of a significant other in my life, I had no real reason to be on the pill. Not when it gave me annoying side effects.

Like nausea.

And bloating.

I would have had to maintain a whole separate wardrobe in another size, just to accommodate the monthly changes in my body. Something else that I could not afford.

I switched from the vibrator to another toy in my collection. A large, smooth glass dildo. It wasn’t completely smooth in a sense, as it was an anatomically correct imitation of a dick. Not the largest I’d had inside me, but not so small that it wouldn’t make me stretch every time I thrust it into my cunt.

My inner muscles began to squeeze down, trying to grasp at the thing that was inside me. Just as those contractions began to speed up, my phone rang.

Instinct told me to ignore it. But the persistent sound broke the mood.

“Fuck.” I reached for my phone. The screen showed an unfamiliar number, yet I assumed it had to be an emergency. Especially at this late hour. Nearly four in the morning. If it wasn’t... “Hello?”

There was a long pause and I nearly hung up, assuming that it was likely a telemarketer or some kind of weirdly timed robo call. Then, just as I had my finger poised over the screen to end it, a slurred voice said: “Elizabeth?”

The sloppy pronunciation had altered the voice so that it was unrecognizable, though still vaguely familiar. I suspected it was someone from work. No one else called me by my full name, and even most of my co-workers avoided the familiarity of addressing me by my first name alone. “Yes. Who is this?”

“It’s Max, baby.”

Max. We had worked together on a couple of projects recently but could barely be called acquaintances beyond that. The fact that he’d used the pet name indicated just how drunk he was.

Especially since I knew he was married. “Don’t call me that.”

“S-sorry.”

“Why are you calling me, anyway?”

“Need a place to stay tonight.” There was a pause and a low, indistinct noise followed by a curse. Almost like he’d lost his grip on his phone for a moment. “I’m in your neighborhood so I was wondering…”

“Go home, Max. You’re drunk.”

“Can’t go home. Don’t have nowhere else to go.”