The Toy Shoppe

Joy flourished it like a sword, flexing it slightly over her head to demonstrate its stiff, rubbery construction. On closer inspection, I saw that it had a head on each end – a double dong. I was transfixed at the sight, and at the thought that I soon would be. Transfixed, that is.

"Check it out - each end is different," she said, and she confirmed her intentions by having me lie back on a stack of cushions, my bottom higher than my head. Then she opened my knees and set one end to my cunnie. Producing a fresh bottle of oil from under one of the pillows, she drizzled the liquid onto the top-most head of the shaft so that a warm stream ran all the way down it and over me, while at the same time pressing down with the thing. Once she had lodged the tip inside me, she began to twist and push it. As it sank in I was squirming something to see - sometimes clutching at the toy, sometimes the cushions under my head. At one point she hauled it all the way out of me, and showed me the thing, her thumb marking a point on its length, like a dipstick. I caught hold of it and helped her stuff it back inside me, to the sound of applause from several secretaries.

Joy twisted it a bit and slid it in deeper than ever, until finally she decided it was time for the next phase. Releasing her grip, she shifted her position, while I eagerly took over cranking the thing. Then I stopped and opened my eyes, and looked over my belly to see how things stood. Well, it stood pretty tall. It seemed to be waving around in the air a mile. Joy adjusted herself so she was sitting astride my thighs, and I had a brief notion of how boys must feel, to see a substantial cock rear from your crotch to line up with a waiting cunnie.

As I watched Joy drove herself onto her end of the thing, and the impression vanished. I couldn't feel it sliding into her pretty pussy, but the impact forced it another inch or so into mine. That I felt, somewhere up behind my rib cage, which didn't seem possible but felt really, really good! She had swallowed a good bit on the one go, herself, and soon we found a new rhythm. Lying back, she held on tight to the thing's middle until her hands met mine - and then we linked arms and began to buck our hips together and back. As we worked, more and more of the part that stood between us disappeared from sight until, locked in alignment by that hidden dowel, we were hungrily grinding and slithering our cunt lips together.

The explosion that followed beat all the rest – I think mostly because we came at the same time. It was like it fed back and forth, or something.

Afterward, still linked by that big rubber wang, we lay sated in each other's arms, eyes closed - in my case soaking in the afternoon sun, rather like a lizard on a rock.

After a while I opened an eye and drank in the sight my new lover. "You asleep?"

"Death never sleeps," was her murmured reply.

"Could have fooled me."

"You don't need to sleep, either, but it's still nice to lay back and think of nothing once in a while."

No sleep? What else didn't I know? "Just what am I? And I don't want to hear 'zombie' again!"

Joy obliged. "I have another friend," – I knew very well what kind she meant – "who calls herself 're-anime' – uses it on her business cards, the cheeky thing. Nobody has any idea what it means, and they're too embarrassed to ask."

I lay my head on a firm breast, closed my eyes to the peanut gallery above, and tried to think of nothing. Not as easy as it sounds - I'd had an eventful day. I lay quiet for a while, and then felt a feather brush my cheek. My eyes snapped back open ... and there in Joy's hand was a seagull feather.

"Gotcha!"