Weekday evenings, she'd wind down from work by taking a shower. Then she'd slip on a robe and crack a Corona. Her hair still drying, she'd go to her computer to check emails. Being single, she'd posted online at a dating site. She liked to read the messages she got, delete the ones from the old, the gross, the fat, stupid and desperate. Although she hadn't had a boyfriend, or even sex in more than a year, she wasn't desperate. She was picky. She would hold out until she found a guy she thought was worthy of her, because she was still young, and still hot. And she had a job and a nice enough place, and just because she didn't like anyone at work, didn't mean she was going to just hit the bars and come home with drunks. Still, it had been a long time since she'd had sex and the more surfing she did, the more it invariably lead to looking at porn. This would get her wet and excited. The bottle of Corona would be empty, and warm in her hand. She'd read online about sex toys and how women were using glass more and more, because they wanted to avoid the chemicals in plastics and that glass, when warmed by the body, felt the sexiest. Perhaps because it'd been so long since she'd actually had sex with a man, she didn't go for the slow, romantic fantasies. She didn't gently caress herself or imagine a man's lips softly nibbling her neck. No, she liked watching hardcore porn, and when she got hot, she'd stand up, lean forward, and imagine being taking from behind. She used the bottle with authority, pushing it inside her and pounding. She liked it hard, fast, and forceful. Sometimes she'd ride her bottle, and sometimes put it in her ass.
After she made herself cum, she'd turn off her computer, and set the empty bottle in the recycling with the others. A week's worth of bottles, each with her sex juices dried on them, each representing a cock she didn't take to bed. She didn't feel bad about this; the bottles were her reminder to herself of standards she wasn't willing to compromise.
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