Page 138 of Plaything

It could have been seconds, minutes, or hours later when Wyatt finally stood with me in his arms. He was still buried inside me as we made our way upstairs to his shower.

“Can you stand at all?” He questioned.

“No,” I responded quickly. I haven’t been able to stand for hours. My legs felt like jello and trying to stand sent lightning strikes to my pussy.

“Okay,” he chuckled. He groaned as he finally pulled out of me, leaving me empty. He sat me on the bathroom counter, standing between my legs.

I moaned absentmindedly, feeling a gush of cum drip down my thighs. “We’re so sticky,” I giggled.

He smiled adoringly down at me. “It could be worse. You swallowed most of it, Baby.”

I felt drunk as he began to unbraid my messy hair. My body tingled everywhere, and I could still feel their hands, lips, tongues, and teeth all over my body.

Curiously, I turn to look in the mirror, seeing my breasts, stomach, thighs, neck, and ass riddled with hickeys and bite marks. “I look pretty,” I mumbled.

Wyatt finished releasing my hair from its messy braid. He placed his arms on each side of me and smiled, looking back at me through the reflection in the mirror. “You always do,” he said matter of factly. “You’re the most beautiful woman in the world, Odette,” he promised.

We watched each other in the mirror, our eyes wandering over ourselves and one another. Wyatt glanced at the counter where his phone was. He grabbed it before he wrapped his arm loosely around my body, leaving the swell of my breast visible in the mirror. My ass looked bigger against my narrow waist, my hair wildly falling around me.

“For you, whenever you want to remember how perfect you are,” he showed me the photo of us he’d taken.

I smiled down at his phone, realizing it was the only picture I had with any of them. I absolutely loved it. “Thank you...” I whispered, placing a tender kiss against his lips.

Wyatt had fallen asleep an hour ago. He looked so peaceful, his eyes fluttering as he dreamed, lips slightly smooshed, and his disheveled blonde hair.

I slept during the movie we watched but couldn’t sleep now. I was so tired, but the knot I had this morning had grown tenfold and returned with a vengeance. I was fighting tears as all my thoughts during my morning shower crashed and flooded my mind like a tsunami.

I was perfectly fine the entire day, no matter how rough they were or what position they put me in. I was happy and really enjoyed myself and them. It filled me with bliss every time they moaned or praised me. I had no regrets whatsoever, and I’d do it again tomorrow if I didn’t have classes and wouldn’t be sore.

But now... I felt heavy-hearted. The words that brought comfort earlier now cut through my chest like a knife.

It was just sex. I was just another woman.

My lip began to wobble, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to blink away the tears this time. Quickly and quietly, extra careful not to wake Wyatt or anyone else, I went into my room.

Today was beyond perfect; I was embarrassed to be the girl who cried after sex. For no damn good reason, at that. Everyone knows about the people who cry after sex how, and they were always red flags in movies or shows. I would not be that girl. At least, not that they’d know about.

I just needed to get it out, have a cute five-minute cry, and then return to bed.

Five minutes turned into an hour. I didn’t want to sit or lay on my bed because of how much it creaked, so I sat against my wall on the floor. My knees were to my chest, my face in my teddy bear as I silently and uncontrollably sobbed.

No matter how hard I cried, no noise was heard besides an occasional quiet sniffle. My hands shook horribly, no matter how much I squeezed the bear. I didn’t know how it got this bad. All I knew was that I was so grateful that Wyatt was a heavy sleeper, and I wasn’t wailing. I’d be mortified if any of them saw me like this, crying after sex.

I felt pathetic and hated that I was crying, which only made me cry more. I shouldn’t be crying; I shouldn’t feel so horrible like this. They were nothing but kind all day long. When I needed a break, they gave me one. They kept me fed and made me drink way too much water. They even told me how happy and proud they were. I felt beautiful and cared for the entire time. There was no reason for me to feel this way.

I was overthinking everything and nothing simultaneously, and it felt impossible to pinpoint what was making me cry. But after an hour, the tears finally let up. Maybe I’d run out of tears, or the exhaustion made my tired lungs give out. I didn’t feel any better, but my body was numb from all the crying, and I needed to go to sleep.

Finally standing up, my legs trembled, and my body ached from the tight ball I’d been in. I gave my bear a somberful glance as I placed him back on my bed with the others. He tried.

I tip-toed to my bathroom, needing to splash cold water on my face. If I woke up with tear-stained cheeks, they’d know.

Feeling ashamed of myself and my outburst of emotions, I couldn’t even look in the mirror as I splashed water on my skin. I knew I’d be red and blotchy, swollen like a juicy tomato. I was such an ugly crier in general, but now I was also the girl who ugly cried for an hour after amazing sex.

Ew, Odette.

This had to be a fluke. A one-time thing. Maybe I was more affected by Saturday’s dinner than I was conscious of? I knew I was still processing it all, but I’d already cried my tears for Saturday. That wasn’t what this was...

Tip-toeing back to Wyatt’s room, I silently crawled back into his bed. The warmth of his sheets wrapped around me like a hug, and I felt a wave of exhaustion again.

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