Welcome--The Clean Towels are on the Shelf to Your Left

We're glad you stopped in. Really.

Why play with two (or three or four) if that means leaving anyone else out of the fun?

Things get wet around here, so you do need to grab a towel and a tall glass of ice water. Help yourself to the pitcher in the fridge.

Settle in, and let me tell you about my birthday present--if I can keep my fingers on the keyboard.

_______________

Part of our agenda for my birthday dinner had been set the week before by phone.

"You mean you really don't own any sex toys?"

"No, just the ten--five on each hand."

"All this sex, all this bragging about gushing--and you don't fuck yourself with a dildo?"

"No."

"No lube?"

"Don't be silly. Lube is redundant. Haven't you been listening?"

We had started dating the week of a period. I am not squeamish, but I don't like new partners during my period. Somehow it takes away from my favorite thing . . . laying back, opening wide, and shoving my partner's head and tongue deeper and deeper while I thrust my pussy and ass upward to meet his (or her) laps.

Because of this, S and I had been on a date and shared lots of information with our clothes on. I loved knowing that our few chaste kisses coupled with my descriptions of what I liked to do were keeping his cock hard and he was masturbating every morning before work. It was during a phone call that resulted in both of us masurbating and describing how we fucked ourselves that we decided to celebrate my birthday with a trip to the toy store.

We spent the day walking around a fun neighborhood and sharing a great meal. We headed back to the car, barely having mentioned the reason we had gotten an early start, the reason we had planned to be at my apartment by early evening.

"So, you still want to do it?"

"What?"

"You know, go to the store?"

This is one of the things I love about S. I can send him a list of ideas of things to do on Saturday, and he will still email me and formally ask me if he can have a date with me on Saturday. We're both sweet and old-fashioned that way. Here he was, asking if we were still on for our trip to the toy store and the extended play session we had planned for over two weeks.

"Oh, well of course. A girl has to have her birthday present. If I don't get it, I won't feel like you are treating me like a lady, now will I?"

S grinned and helped me into the truck. (Yes, he drives a truck--for which I was grateful once the toy was in hand--or at least in someplace. We needed to be above the line of sight of our fellow drivers, as it turned out.)

"I like this one," I said. As is typical, I forgot to even try to control my voice as I pulled a harness designed to go around one's head so that a penis protruded from the chin.

S blushed.

"These are bigger than I had in mind. I wanted a little dildo to help break in that ass," he whispered. "And some lube--I don't care what you say, I'm getting some flavored lube so I can finger and lick that little asshole until it is ready for something bigger."

I wrapped my arm around his waist, happy that this conservative-looking Irish Catholic was full of surprises. I waited for his suggestion.

"Let's try this one."

"It's a little small," I countered before I could catch myself. I forget that I developed some crazy expectations spending a decade and a half with a man of equine proportions.

"Well, it does some tricks," he grinned. Showing me that the bright-pink dildo could bend at one end so that the studs sticking up at the bottom of its eight-inch shalf could rub my clit.

The prospect of the hard nubs against my clit brought it and my nipples to life. I squeezed S around his waist, and we quickly selected his flavored lube, my mild protests subsiding at the thought of some extra encouragement to break in my uncharacteristically shy ass. We agreed to forego a small dildo to open up my ass and just to explore what could happen with S's tongue and fingers for the time being.

"I have to try it with the batteries . . . we have a no-return policy," said the pretty girl at the counter as she freed my dildo from its container. "No, no . . . can you get another one?" she said as she tried to turn it on to know avail.

Fortunately, S selected an identical dildo. I was too mesmerized and weak in the knees as I watched her long fingers around my new bright-pink friend.

She tried again. "Can you try?" she said as a large bear of a man emerged from the back room and stepped behind the counter.

"I've got the touch," he said as my big penis roared to life.

"What are you doing tonight, then?!" I asked.

S and I drove for batteries. I stayed in the car to avoid having to pay for parking and (my real motivation) to unwrap my gift. I took a quick look around and lifted my hips to pull down my panties. I slipped the dildo between my legs and began gently rocking as it massaged my slit from back to front.

"Ok, let's try this out," S said as he reached for the bag.

Feeling the empty bag, he looked at me.

"Uhm, here," I rolled to one side so he could reach under me for the dildo.

"And the lube is good, too," I let him lick my fingers as he inserted the batteries.

I slipped the big cock back into position before twisting it on.

"Oh!" I closed my eyes as it shuttered into action.

Our ride home included the most pleasurable traffic jam ever, including a lot of jokes about how S's employer would find him with his face buried in the seat, refusing to leave his car Monday morning. I brought myself to orgasm time and again, using the hard nubs to play with my clit.

"You hardly ever stick it in!" S commented.

"I'm saving myself for you," I teased as I fed him my juicy fingers.

"You saw that," I said as a taller truck roared past without S having given me a warning.

"I don't think you really mind," he grinned.