Plunge by Heather Stone Page A

on your face, probably not,” I say to Mary as she scrunches her nose at me.
    “It wasn’t that bad, Jane. Okay fine, it was that bad.” She places her hand over her face as she mumbles into her hand, “He whipped out a twelve-inch dildo. Happy?”
    With that, Jane loses her shit again. “Can you believe that? Her blind date busted out a dildo to fuck her with, but do you want to hear the funniest part? He wanted to fuck her in the ass.”
    My face grows hot at this omission and suddenly my mind starts to remember NYCsir. That sounds fabulous.
    “Earth to Sam? Are you okay? You are bright red. Look, J, you got Sam all hot and bothered. Poor girl must really need to get laid.”
    Oh God, did I ever. I haven’t had sex in forever. The last few men were such a disappointment I had given up getting some altogether. No one lived up to the fantasy. I would dream of them telling me to get down on my knees and suck them. Lick them. I would imagine their rough fingers scraping at my skin and the feel of their heavy palm making contact with my bare ass. But when we would finally make it into the bedroom, they could never fulfill my dream.
    They would expect me to lead, for me to initiate. So I would, but it always fell flat. I needed someone to tell me what to do, to play out the running scene in my mind. I needed someone like NYCsir.
    “Shit, boss man just walked in. We better get to work. Drinks at McDougal’s later?”
    I nod yes to Jane and walk towards my cubical. Peering around the room to make sure no one is looking, I swipe my finger across my phone screen and pull up the app to Plunge. He’s posted a new video.
    Across the screen I see the definition of a toned torso leading to the perfect V. Right below, a hand moves in earnest stroking his hard, thick cock. My insides tighten as I watch. The camera is held at the perfect angle to not see his face or any defining features. Only his perfect length. He claims in the captions that these videos are of him. God, I hope they are. “Hey, Sam. Do you have the file for the Gibson account? Hey you okay, your face is all flushed,” Marc asks as he stops in front of my desk.
    “Umm, yeah. Just…hot. Let me get that file for you.” Closing the phone quickly, I toss it inside the drawer to the right of me, as I grab the information he asked for. Geez, I really need to be more careful.
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    S urprisingly , the day flies by and after work I find myself at the Irish pub throwing back shots of Jameson. After my first two shots, I’m feeling all types of loose.
    “So, Sam,” Jane says through the laughter and chatter of the other patrons, “I’ve been thinking about this all day. When was the last time you got laid?”
    “Too far back to remember,” I reply, reaching for the new shot glass sitting in front of me. I throw it back and it burns my throat as it warms my body. “But I do watch a shit-ton of porn,” I blurt out before I can stop myself.
    “NO SHIT! I did not see that coming. Really?”
    “Yeah, I have a mild addiction.” I can’t believe I’m admitting this out loud. Must be the booze. “Ever hear of Plunge.xxx ?”
    Her mouth falls open with my admission. “Isn’t that the site where people post all their fantasies and shit?”
    “Something like that.” I shrug.
    “Show me.”
    With all my inhibitions gone, I reach for my phone in my purse and pull it out. “There,” I say, flashing her the screen to the home page. She shakes her head at me.
    “Not good enough, Sam. Show me the good stuff.” Her lip quirks up into a sinful grin. I let out an audible sigh and start to type.
    “Here, happy?” I say, thrusting the phone in her face.
    Her pupils dilate rapidly. “Holy shit. This is hot. God, look at that cock! Oh my God, it says it’s his… Damn it.”
    “What?”
    “No face image, but dude… From his body alone he looks hot. Oh my God, Sam. You need to totally hit that.”
    “What the fuck are you talking about? I can’t “hit”