Last week, Chelsea made a coffee date with her friend Bonnie and had some mediocre sex with her soon-to-be-husband Arnold (while fantasizing about her ex: Mark). While they’re getting cleaned up, she reaches under the bed and finds a bag of old sex toys. Shortie this round because I was super busy at work this week, and now I have to rush off to help Jayden with something.
~Richard
Chelsea pulled out the dildo. How long had it been down there? Since she’d moved in, probably. They’d talked about using more toys, but it’d never gotten very far. She rummaged around some more, pulling out a 3-inch buttplug.
“Maybe a little too aggressive…” she muttered to herself. She hadn’t had more than a finger up there in a year, and even that rarely.
“Did you say something, sweetheart?” Arnold called from the bathroom.
“Just talking to myself, babe!” She dropped the big plug back in and kept digging, finding one about half its size.
Chelsea hopped up, grabbed her bathrobe off the peg on the back of the door, and tucked both toys into the sleeve.
She thought back to the last time she’d used a buttplug. It’d been before she started dating Arnold. She and Bonnie had a few too many drinks and gotten into an ill-advised competition. She’d won.
A moment later, Arnold came out of the bathroom. She gave him a peck on the cheek (careful not to brush too close to him) and slipped inside.
After making sure the door was locked, she started up the shower and hung her robe.
Chelsea looked down at the buttplug. This should be easy. She’d taken ones this size when she was in college. With a deep breath, she reached behind herself and pushed.
“Ahhhh, ooooh,” she hissed in a breath. It hurt a bit, but she made it in. Gingerly, she took her hand away, making sure it would stay. She gave it a little squeeze and groaned. It felt good.
Step two: Chelsea climbed into the shower holding the dildo. She looked around, it’d been a while since she’d done this, but she was pretty sure she remembed the right angle. She pressed the mount onto the wall at hip level and pressed back against it.
“Mmmmfff,” she moaned as it filled her up, the curve hitting perfectly.
Not bad, birdie, said Mark’s voice in her head.
She looked up half expecting to see him through the steam. When he didn’t appear, she imagined him chuckling, before giving his next order.
It’ll take you too long to cum like that. Can’t keep Mr. Clean waiting. Grab the shower wand.
She nodded to herself, whimpering as she pulled out all but the very tip of the dildo to grab the wand and point it at her clit.
“Mmmmm, that feels nice.”
Too nice. You always got off faster with a little pain.
She nodded again, clicking the wand onto a different setting. Hard pulses of water crashed against her clit, drawing out a noise halfway between a moan and a squeal.
Careful, don’t fall. Otherwise you’ll have to explain why you need three different sextoys to get off while you imagine your ex ordering you around in the bathroom.
“Fuck you,” she said through gritted teeth, wriggling her hips to grind the dildo deeper. She felt it pressing against the plug, barely separated inside her.
You wish. If you had, you wouldn’t be in here. Harder.
She growled and slammed her hips back, flattening her ass against the wall. This had the added bonus of cramming the butt plug a painful quarter inch deeper inside her. She dropped the wand and covered her mouth as she came, muffling the sounds of her pleasure. The shower head clattered to the floor of the tub, followed a moment later by the dildo when she pulled it off the wall, dropping to her knees in the tub.
“Everything okay, sweetheart?” Arnold called.
Chelsea took a deep breath. “Yeah, just dropped the soap,” she said with a half-hearted laugh. “I’ll be out in a few.”
He said something she didn’t really hear, and she sat there for a moment in the water, wetter than she’d been in months. And not from the shower.
J R Vincente 