I recently made a 'special' purchase at the sex store.
When I walked in, I wasn't quite sure where do go. It's not like I'd never been before, but this was for something new.
I walked around for a little while. Browsing.
Finally, I found what I was looking for... in the "Fetish" section. Whoa! Never thought I'd consider myself one of those
people, but okay. My visual senses were on over-drive. I was surrounded by colourful packaging (although primarily pink and black) all with naked women staring at me with their 'come fuck me' eyes. I could almost feel them breathing on my neck, but not in a sexy way. They were more like wild predators and I was the newbie prey that would soon be devoured.
There they were... all different materials, shapes, number of 'access portals', sizes and of course, price ranges. Holy crap! I might be curious for a little kinky fun but I have my financial limitations, that's for damn sure. I took photos with my phone and texted them to my "expert" friend.
(Click) This one?
(Click) This one?
Ooooh... (Click) How about this one?
Fuck, I love technology.
I made my purchase while partaking in some small talk with the sales woman, making sure I had indeed found the right fit for my needs. I really don't think they do returns.
Time went slowly that evening.
The little black bag was calling my name, but it would be hours before I could have a little test fitting.
10pm finally rolled around. Sweet. Time to try on my fancy purchase. Yes, I said "try on". I had purchased my very first strap-on.
Giddy'up mutha fuckers! And it fit like a glove... or rather, like a cock.
Surprisingly, I didn't feel as "masculine" as I was afraid I would feel. It's always been a sensation that I have never been entirely comfortable with; about my own feminine identity and sexuality... ya know... the fact that under my stunningly giant knockers is, in fact, Guillermo Díaz
. Yeah, that.
Regardless of how I did or did not feel about the addition of a giant purple cock that now hung between my legs, one thing was certain... it was bloody hysterical.
I'm in the bathroom laughing my fucking ass off, naked, jumping around and watching the silicone cock flail up and down and side to side. Strap-on gymnastics, I tell ya! I needed to share my amusement with my husband, but he was fast asleep.
How often does this shit happen, seriously!?
I walked over to his side of the bed. He was facing inward and his back was exposed. I was trying incredibly hard not to wake him with my snorting laughter. I would have much rathered that I woke him up with what I was about to do. I crept over...
Then, I began poking him in the back with the dildo, repeatedly.
I got a few grunts and annoyed shrugs. Of course, he had no idea what object I was actually using to poke him with.
I start laughing louder; I'm practically in tears by this point.
He rolled over to discover what it was that I was doing, and what I was wearing.
If you can imagine the sound a human can make that is annoyed, pissed off, furious, shocked, confused, repulsed and drowsy all at the same time, it kinda sounded like this:
And for the record, Jill
's interpretation of my face is practically uncanny, since I had taken off my make-up by this point.
Aren't I fucking beautiful when I'm laughing THAT hard? I think the ribbed purple strap-on is nothing but icing, really.
So, needless to say, he wasn't amused. At. Fucking. All.
But it sure as hell made my whole damn week.
Besides, I didn't buy it for him anyway...
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------A HUGE thank you to Jill from Yeah.Good Times. for graciously offering up her fine artistic skills
to help me illustrate this story. It just wouldn't have been the same without them. Love ya :)
I'm sure everyone knows her by now, but if not, WHY? Go... right now!