Page 22 of Savage Keepsakes

“Just DIY reno’s. Are you going to take that pretty wife of yours out?” I smile as we walk out to the sun, just starting to set.

“I should get a sitter and take her to dinner.” Crossing to the parking lot, I open my mouth to encourage him once we get to our cars, but Artie grins and puts up his hands. “I’m doing it, I promise. Don’t nag at me.”

My drive home is light and peaceful, with no knots of dread in my stomach. Sometimes I still worry that Miles will burst through the front door, and his loud, menacing footsteps will echo around the house.

However, it’s been two weeks, and I haven’t heard a peep. I can only imagine Billy ran him out of town.

After I park the car, I walk over to the porch and graze my hand over the broken swing. It’s on my list, but Billy insists he is going to be the one to fix it, showing me the process along the way.

There are three packages sitting at the door—finally they’ve come in. I grab them and head inside.

Once I’m showered and changed, I come back downstairs, sit at the table, and open the packages. The first two are a few books I bought to help with research. Writing a book is going to be a big task, but it’s something I’ve always wanted to do.

Without Miles undermining my self-esteem, I’ve been able to focus on writing, but I needed more resources.

The final package is a light brown box, and I really hope it’s what I think it is. Ripping the tape, I open it and grab the dildo out of its packaging.

It looks so real. While the silicone is soft, the toy is hard. The size of it surpassed what the website showed, but I’m grateful it’s here at last.

I run my fingers over the veins on the shaft and circle the suction-cup base. I bite my lower lip, needing to try it out right away.

Still lacking furniture down on the main floor, I grab my phone and go upstairs to my bedroom. Flipping the covers back, I strip off my pants and lay down, spreading my legs.

I’m so ready toactuallyorgasm and not fake it like I did for years with Miles. My face heats atthe thought of ever having one with the help of someone else.

Videos of dominating men whose fingers grip the woman’s neck and spit into her mouth before bouncing their hard cock off her lips flood me with need. I continue to tease my clit with my fingers, preparing my pussy for this toy.

Chills run through my body, my hips arching, wetness flooding from between my thighs, and I set down the phone. I stroke my slit with the head of the dildo before sliding it inside my soaked cunt. Raising my knees, I fuck myself with the toy, rolling my nipple between my fingers as I continue to thrust it in and out.

It’s bigger than Miles ever was and I clench around it—my orgasm is just out of reach.

Flipping onto my knees, I grasp the base of the fake dick with my hands and sink down on it. I transfer my weight back to the toy, clenching my thighs while I rub my clit.

Squeezing my eyes shut, my mind floats to Billy. How his hardness presses at my side when we hug, the way his muscles move beneath his tattooed skin. How I want him to dominate me and claim me as his own.

I’m whimpering as my nerves are ablaze with need, and I lower to my stomach. Turning my head, I grind against the cock in my pussy. I rub my clit harder and let the orgasm run through me.

I roll over and pull the fake cock away from my pussy. Laying against the soft pillows, I rest for a few minutes and then get off the bed to wash the toy clean.

This was the greatest present I could have bought myself. Definitely going to give it a five-star rating.

With a sense of satisfaction, I tuck it in the dresser drawer before turning my attention to the closet and putting on a snug pair of leggings. I brush out my long hair and gather it up into a loose, tousled bun.

My ringtone blares from under the sheets and I flip them around to find it.

“Hey JoJo, how are you?” I cradle the phone between my ear and neck as I remake the bed. Thoughts of a nap are gone.

“I’m good. How are you doing?”

“Actually, great! I took your advice and got that toy. Mind blown. Will never date again.” I laugh and head down the stairs to the kitchen.

“Perfect. Do you want to have dinner in a couple of days?”

“Sure thing. I have Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday off.”

Opening the fridge, I grab the ingredients for a sandwich, the coldness of the containers against my fingertips grounding me into the real world.

“I’m working, but I’ll be off in the evening. I’ll message you. Babe, I’m happy you’re doing so good.” She hangs up, and I finish making dinner before sitting at the kitchen table, flipping through the books I got.

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