Shelley's Not a She

She needed relief and she needed it NOW, so her hand fell to one nightstand seeking her trusty and favorite toy and a tube of lube. The toy was a realistic dildo, not quite as big as Matt but it always did the trick. She smeared the length and head with lube, then a little extra lube upon her puckered hole and slid the dildo deep within her arse. Shelley spared no mercy on her poor rear, slamming that dildo in and out as hard as she had wanted Matt to fuck that tight hole. She grabbed her dick, stroking it hard and pushing herself quickly towards orgasm. As her body shook a small amount of cum squirted from her dick and coated her hand. She brought the hand to her lips and licked up the cum then gently slid the dildo from her stretched out hole. The toy and lube went away and she used the door joining the bedroom to the bathroom, never sure before why it had a door between the two rooms when the hallway door was two feet away but now glad it existed, and used a washcloth to clean herself up. Upon returning to the bedroom Shelley curled up into the bed and buried her face into the pillow. Sure that he couldn't hear she finally allowed her emotions to get the better of her and began to quietly sob into the pillow. Here the man she desired most finally in her apartment, her with a bellyful of his cum, and she feared that it would all be lost away in the near future. She would cry herself to sleep, curled up in the fetal position holding her pillow tight.
She awoke late in the morning and laid in her bed listening, Matt was still snoring away on the couch. The pillow was held clutched to her chest as she debated if that had been a good or a bad thing and then decided perhaps it was better now than to drag things on. Mustering up what courage she could screw together, Shelley made her way over towards the bathroom and locked the hallway side. Not wanting to risk the shower waking him up before she was ready for him to, she used a washcloth to scrub her face and a couple of drops of Visine in tear reddened eyes. A couple of strokes with her brush made her hair presentable enough for morning hair. A sigh as she stared at the image in the mirror, it probably wouldn't matter what she did to make herself presentable, he was going to hate her anyways. She was sure of it but she also knew he deserved the truth up and front.