Speed clicking through the credit card confirmation, Matt closed his second 700$ audio file purchase of the day. He really liked the files, they felt... comforting. He just loved listening to the low, smooth, woman's voice, as it guided him to a relaxed, safe place. And he kinda needed the pick me up, things hadn't been going so well lately.

 

The repeated rejections were slowly crushing his confidence. His performance problems popped so often into his thoughts, the intrusions were starting to interfere with his work.

 

So even though his purchases had yet to yield results, it was alright to splurge a little on comfort and self-care, right? He really liked the files.

 

Putting aside his newly acquired mp3, Matt returned to *the Hunt*. Plowing through his past conquests' DMs did prove a fertile ground at first. Well, at least with girls who weren't so stuck up as to hold up a little bit of ghosting against him. But the field of opportunity was turning up more and more barren.

 

When he did manage to hook a girl in, Matt would bring his A-game, subtly undermining their self-esteem with veiled insults disguised as compliments. "I don't usually go for women like you, but you certainly made an impression last time."

 

The flirting would be followed by a feast at a fancy restaurant (it was better to stay away from bars for now) with plenty of wine. Once his date was sufficiently pliable, he brought her back to his bachelor pad, listening to a quick mantra file in the bathroom to psych himself up. But the night inevitably ended in a disappointing display.

 

After two minutes of intermittent, limp thrusting, he would loudly blow his lackluster load, leaving his lover unfulfilled. Then severe sleepiness settled in, making it simply impossible to save face.

 

The snores felt particularly disparaging to his shunned partner, who was left with nothing to do but sneak out the building, disenchanted.

 

After waves of nasty negative comments from those negging bitches flooded his *Grams* (he couldn't seem to figure out how to delete them), he found this source of hookups entirely depleted. The word was out: don't waste your time.

 

That did not help with Matt's growingly unbearable horniness situation. He was down to hourly "toilet" breaks, masturbating multiple times, sometimes mid-meeting, to manage the matter. The joke going round the office was something about a urinary infection, or worse... Matt could only wish a penicillin shot would solve *this* problem!

 

Leaving the bathroom, having just finished another self-care session, in spite of the momentary, fleeting bliss, he received no release from the raging in his rump. And now his schlong was too sensitive to stroke still.

 

It was maddening, and as he felt the flush of fury rising within him, Matt decided to instead listen to his new file to calm down. He really liked the files...

 

 

Tonight, Matt's decided to turn things around. He was going back to the belly of the beast to restore his tarnished reputation.

 

The old university pub's crowd didn't respond so well to his bravado however. When they weren't outright laughing him off, they would go to extreme lengths to avoid him. That slut Suzy said she had a boyfriend, but he'd seen her suck face with at least three different guys so far.

 

Confidence crumbling, stumbling over his words, surrounded by hot, sexy, ladies who wanted nothing to do with him. Matt resolved himself to spend the night horny, desperate, alone.

 

Until, out of nowhere, a dark haired stone cold fox approached, offering to buy him a drink!

 

It seemed, somehow, she found his fumbly flirting flubs endearing. Jackpot!

 

She spoke with a thick accent, maybe she was from somewhere far away, hadn't heard the rumors yet. Whatever, Matt didn't waste any time. His swagger swelled anew, which she found even sweeter, convinced this adorable, shambling, naive boy put on a brave face for her.

 

She followed him home, marveling at the overexcited skip in his step.

 

As she lay on his bed, lifting up her skirt, Matt's forehead started to bead with sweat. The vision of beauty displayed before him, in all his pent up ardour, left him ready to explode.

 

With shaking hands, he unrolled a rubber along his painfully pulsing penis, took his place atop her breathtaking body, ready to enter her.

 

And as the very tip of his cock spread open her inviting labia, Matt ejaculated loudly "FUUUUUUUCK!" as he erupted explosively in the greedy gratification that had eluded him so.

 

A lilting laugh lifted him out of this fleeting lull.

 

"Hihi-hi sorry, sorry-hihihi!" The girl burst out giggling uncontrollably.

 

"Not even two pumps-hihihi! Sorry-hihihi!" She unconvincingly apologised, trying in vain to contain the uproarious laughter howling from her.

 

As Matt battled the incapacitating fatigue washing over him, she stood up, wiped the tears out of her eyes, grabbed her things and left in a hurry, her scattered chuckling echoing down the hall.

 

With a monumental effort, the failed Lothario pulled up his boxers and ran after his escaping paramour. "At least let me call you a cab..."

 

The night's still quietness was his only answer.

 

Collapsing on the cracked concrete path curving out of the apartment complex, Matt broke down under the harsh light of the streetlamps.

 

"What the fuck is wrong with me?" He whined out of his quivering lips, in between sobs.

 

"Rough night?" A deep soothing voice came from down the ledge.

 

It was his witchy weirdo lesbo neighbour, smoking a cigarette. Did she witness the whole thing? Fuck my life!

 

She stubbed out what was left of her smoke on the heel of her chunky black boot, pulled out and lit a new one. Inhaling deeply before releasing a thick, white cloud.

 

"Wanna tell me about it?"

 

Matt was stupefied by her nonchalance. There was something soothing about her. Comforting about the way she spoke. He felt like trusting her.

 

So he told her everything.