The Imitation

The packaging was discreet. Still, I skittered shame-facedly away from the mail room, imagining the eyes of my land lady—and everyone else in my apartment complex—following me. Max bought a sex toy! Max needs a girlfriend! God. I forced the box through the horizontal sleeve of my sweatshirt and walked on.

The truth was, I didn't need a girlfriend. I didn't want one. I just wanted to experiment. I'd heard of fleshlights, of course. I'd even seen them sold in novelty stores. For some reason, I'd mentally categorized them as something other people used. It never occurred to me that I could buy one for myself. It was strange—even at 25-years-old I sometimes still operated as if I expected my parents to yell at me. I hadn't lived with my parents for six years. It was time to assert some independence.

I'd approached the purchase with the same consciousness I'd apply to anything. I read reviews, I scrolled through Reddit threads. I even watched a porn vid of a chubby guy with a hairy belly jerking off furiously in front of his Xbox and cat. Some of the fleshlights I reviewed were bizarre: alien-like insides with truly alarming twists and turns. Some came in neon colors. I couldn't imagine who these models would appeal to. At the conclusion of my research, I'd settled on the Fleshlight: Zenith. It was a newer model and purportedly highly realistic (both reflected in the price—the cost approached my textbook bill for this semester). It came in a range of skin colors and its texture was modeled after normal, human women with non-geometric vaginas. It had the additional benefit of feeling less stigmatizing. It wasn't a toy, it was practice. I was investing in future relationships by increasing my sexual skill. Perfectly rational.

Back in my apartment, I locked the front door behind me and put the box on the kitchen table. I took a tall glass from the cupboard and set it to fill with hot water. The website claimed that soaking it for a few minutes would create a more realistic experience. While I waited, I removed the toy from its packaging.

The plastic casing looked like the heavy-duty flashlight my dad kept in the garage. I unscrewed the top and was faced with a hyper-realistic vulva in warm teak. It was molded into intricate folds, a firm clitoris nestled between two sets of lips. The inner lips hung limp and uneven, much like the genuine article. I probed it with two fingers. It certainly didn't feel like rubber; it was soft as gelatin. I wet my fingers in my mouth then pushed them slowly inside. The internal texture was puffy but rich with uneven bumps; it even curved slightly where the bend of the pubic bone would be. I was so taken aback by the realism that I withdrew my fingers almost immediately. Did they pay someone to make a mold of their vagina?

The glass was full. I unscrewed the back of the fleshlight and withdrew the soft insert. It was transparent and jiggled in my fist, almost Jello-like. I placed it in the water entrance-up and set it to warm in the sink while I changed out of my clothes.

I was still soft. So far, this felt like a scientific experiment. I had to set the right mood. I closed the blinds and turned off the overhead light. I opened a browser on my laptop and started to watch one of my favorite videos. It was a wide-screen shot of a pair of full, natural tits jiggling while their owner bounced lightly on her heels. After a few minutes, she drizzled them with warm oil from above. Thick rivulets arced over the swells of flesh and dripped from her pointed nipples in two, unbroken streams. She began to grope herself. Glossy pudge swelled between splayed fingers, tender nipples were rolled and stimulated. A soft, solitary moan broke the silence. Then the hands disappeared, and she set to bouncing again.

My cock bobbed to life.

When I was fully erect, I went into the kitchen to reassemble the fleshlight. I patted the insert dry and maneuvered it back into its case. I squirted some water-based lube into a small bowl and warmed it for 20 seconds in the microwave. I took both to my room.

I kneeled on the bed and restarted the video. Even untouched, my cock was sensitive and aching to be fondled. I looked at the fleshlight and felt my first, genuine pull of yearning. I wondered briefly if my expectations were too high.

"It's just an imitation," I said aloud, to myself. "Just a tool for self-improvement."

I scooped a generous portion of warm lube with two fingers and swirled it around inside the toy. My heartbeat quickened. It was irresistibly warm, and with the addition of the lube, more realistic than I'd anticipated. I removed my fingers and wiped them on the sheets.

Huge tits wobbled a foot from my face. I stared. My cock gave an impatient, almost painful twitch. The conditions wouldn't get any better than this.

I exhaled and slowly pushed my cock into the waiting fleshlight. The silicone innards morphed to contain my girth, rolling snuggly over the base of my head and molding down my shaft as firmly and absolutely as a second skin. I bottomed out and held it there, hardly daring to believe. My cock quivered in its snug, plump casing. This wasn't just a toy.

This was the softest, gooiest, pussy I had ever known.

I wasn't able to stay still for long. I slowly slid in and out, the slick, velvet sleeve sealing around my cock with each motion. The gelatinous bumps stimulated every square millimeter of my shaft; while rough, they were also unbearably silky. Vibrations passed into the toy from my shaking hands, creating a sensation like pulsing flesh.

Oh, fuck.

I wanted to weep. Never, not once, had I imagined my cock would know feelings like this. It was also clear that this would be over very soon if I wasn't careful. I could already feel my heart hammering in my head. Each slow, teasing thrust was excruciating. The suction was the most voracious, juicy blowjob, the compression the tightest of virgin pussies. The internal nubs alone felt like so many lapping tongues.

And then the slurping. Oh, God. The slurping.

The woman in the video cupped and lifted her massive tits, sending their tops jiggling wildly. I whimpered, my cock pulsing inside the fleshlight. Gently, I rocked back and forth, straining against the attentions of at least six hungry mouths and one shivering pussy. My cock was intoxicated with aching pleasure but the effort of denying its inevitable culmination was proving simply too much to bear. I began to massage my balls as a distraction but they were so sensitive that the sensation forced my eyes into the back of my head.

I rode the absolute knife-point of pleasure for thirty seconds more. And then I heard it.

The moan.

All thoughts of stamina training flew from my mind. I grabbed the fleshlight with both hands and pummeled its gummy depths with sheer desperation. Before my eyes, the great, succulent tits bounced and bounced and bounced and bounced—

I let out an incoherent howl and smashed the fleshlight all the way down. I exploded into the gluey, luscious, pudge with a devastating pleasure, throbs contorting my cock and sending a gush of cum deep inside. I slammed it up and down again and again, pleasure shattering my senses and drawing wild moans as I was wrenched through a dozen layers of mindless ecstasy.

Sweet Fleshlight! The throbbing was beginning to slow, but why stop? It still felt good. For the first time in my life I continued my furious thrusting, my own cream slicking the way, until a second, equally exquisite, orgasm proved imminent. This time, I held the toy still and groaned while its warm, squishy walls milked my cumming cock. Agony. Heaven.

The pulses gradually slowed and the sensation ebbed. Weakened by satisfaction, I slumped over onto my slide and pulled the toy off with a loud squelch. Cum puddled on the sheets. I settled into my pillows, already half asleep.

I was going to get a lot of practice.