"There isn't enough time in the day," I say, stuffing my nightie into a backpack.
"Kitty, do you even trust these people?" Jack says. He's my best friend here. Super-nice. Super-gay. Which is too bad because he's so nice and so cute. He tells me all guys are assholes. He says the only reason he's nice to me is because he's not trying to fuck me. He's not wrong. He says I like cock too much to be a lesbian, and he's not wrong about that, either.
"It's a study funded by the university," I say. "They know all about it. They're not going to let anything bad happen."
He scowls.
"Just admit it, you're going to miss me," I tease.
"Whatever," he says and picks up his controller, letting loose an angry blast of gunfire at the enemy. Then he pauses again. "How much is it?"
"Five hundred," I say. "And I don't even have to do anything. Just sleep. I mean, how good is that?"
"Too good," he says. "If it sounds too good to be true, it's usually because it is."
"God, you're a pussy," I say. He throws a pillow at me. We laugh.
"So what are you going to tell Mike?" he says.
"Nothing," I say. "We broke up."
"Well, it has been what? Three weeks? Is that your personal best?" he teases.
"Fuck you," I say, and we laugh.
*
The sleep room at the lab is nicer than my dorm room. They give me a shot and draw blood, and hook me up to a bunch of different sensors. Then they leave me alone. The room is comfortable, but it's bland. They wouldn't let me bring anything in with me, so I have nothing to occupy myself with. I try not to think about Mike. I try not to think about guys. I try not to think about cock.
It's impossible.
I think about cock all the time anyway, and now I have nothing at all to distract myself with. AND I don't even have a guy I can go to in the morning when I get out of here. I mean, there are a couple guys who won't say no if I knock on their door, but I don't want to get into some stupid FWB situation that ruins everything. The trouble is that all the cocks are attached to guys, and guys are weird, fragile things that don't understand anything.
I sigh. I can't even fucking masturbate because I know they're observing me. I smirk, thinking about Dr Willis, with his bald head glistening with sweat and his glasses sliding down his nose. Would he drool at the sight of me rubbing myself? Would he pull his dick out and start jacking off? Would he come in here and slip it to me?
Ew.
No. Too old, too bald, too sweaty. And why was he so sweaty, anyway?
I don't really care. He was so busy arguing with someone on chat that I don't even think he really knew I was there. He had to look at the file to remember my name.
Weird? Yes.
Five hundred bucks for sleeping? Also yes.
I tried to think about who I wanted to come fuck me. Someone who understood me. Someone who didn't need me to explain every little thing. A girl. A girl like me. A girl like me, but with a big, fat cock. Mmmmmm.
I close my eyes.