Dammit. I really did have a secret admirer! But who? Who could it possibly be?
Warily, I peered side to side, expecting to find someone watching me. Even in this busy office, I was essentially ignored.
Caressing the card-stock, I folded it carefully. Next to me the trashcan sat, mouth wide and waiting. Throwing this all away—the letter, the cupcake—would take no effort. Who would know? Who would care?
My hand with the letter dipped low.
He would care.
I hesitated. The cupcake sat there, expectant.
Lifting the dainty, frosted dessert, I took a bite. Vanilla and sugar exploded on my tongue. It was better than any cupcake I'd ever had. Smooth, rich; I came close to rolling my eyes back in my skull.
With one last look at the trashcan, I squeezed the letter. It was proof that this game was being played with me.
With me.
How could I end it, when I'd only just realized I was actually a player?
****
Inside my locker was a single box. The sight of it ramped up my adrenaline. Had I really missed opening these things so much?
No. It was more than that.
For the first time, I knew this gift was for me. That gave the whole experience a new allure. My guilt was gone, the lead in my guts melting into butterflies. What I experienced now was genuine excitement.
Collecting the box, I drove home, trying not to break the speed limit.
It had been over a week since the last gift; the lingerie that I now regretted throwing in my trash. I consoled myself by saying I couldn't have known. This was an esoteric game, I'd never been involved in anything like it.
Casualties were bound to happen.
I had, however, kept the emerald earrings. They'd gone unnoticed in my car's cup-holder. I'd found them minutes ago when I'd set my coffee into the deep indentation, spilling some when it didn't settle right.
Crossing my living room, I dropped my coat and keys on the floor. I wasn't thinking about being tidy. Opening the package was an obsession, an itch that needed to be scratched.
Migrating into my kitchen, I scooted into a chair and placed the box on the round wooden table. Like most of my furniture, it served its purpose, but that was all I could ask of it.
Reaching down, I noticed my hands were quaking. Easy, easy. Laughing nervously, I made tight fists. When I peeled the tape away, my fingers still trembled.
The package split open, a heavy object tumbling onto the table. It was thick as a carrot, but shaped like some odd, swooping curve that tapered on one end, wide and blunt on the other.
Stroking the pliant, magenta surface, I blinked. “What the hell?” There was no one to answer my question. No one but S, perhaps.
Searching in the box, I found a note.
Pet,
This is a special, unique treat that I believe will bring you great pleasure.
Enjoy it to your heart's content. The idea of that will keep me very, very warm.
And very hard.
—S
Pursing my lips, I folded the paper and put it aside. Lifting the magenta-thing, I twisted it gently in my palms. The small nub on the top of one side was squishy; I prodded it, testing the weight of the device.
When I gave the base a firm squeeze, it came to life.
Gasping, I dropped the vibrating object. On top of my kitchen table it buzzed in place, the fat nub wiggling obscenely.
And then I knew.
I knew exactly what this was.
He'd sent me a damn dildo.
I grabbed the toy, struggling to turn it off. The base had a hidden switch, and after a few presses, the whole thing shut down.
My kitchen was eerily quiet without the constant buzzing.
Sweat caught in the pit of my collar bone. He sent me something like THIS? I'd seen sex toys, I wasn't a total prude. But I'd never owned any, and certainly had never been gifted any.
What did he expect me to do with this?
Flustered, I bit my lip. Right. I know what he expects. After all, he'd said the thought of it would get him hard.
It was such a perverse concept. My mind was vibrating harder than the toy had. This is too much. He can't be serious. How bold could one man be?
Leaning back in my chair, I eyed the toy like it was a snake. Touching it, I jerked my arm back instinctively. Then, breathing into my gut, I cradled it in my palm. The material it was made from was luxurious, not hard plastic.
Even here, S had extravagant taste.
Frowning, I studied the object again. Imagining my benefactor buying this with me in mind... it was another facet to this whole game.
I can't act too oblivious, I told myself. Part of me had to know what this guy was after.
But what was I after?
Accepting clothes and jewelry, building up a slow appreciation and knowledge about this stranger... that was safe. That was in my comfort zone. I suppose I thought, with time, I'd meet this S and it would be—
What? I cut my thoughts off brutally. You thought he'd want to give you flowers and take you on a stroll?