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When Henn returns, he gleefully lays out towels onto my bed and places the machine on top of them. He plugs in the power cord, lays the control panel next to the box, and pulls out a bag from the box. “Pick your prick, cowgirl.” He’s holding up a hygienically sealed bag of rubber dicks. They’re of varying sizes and colors, but all have been crafted realistically with veiny shafts and mushroom tips.
As I take the bag from Henn, I can’t help chuckling. “The struggle is real,” I say, surveying my options. “How am I supposed to pick but one prick?”
“You’re not limited to one for the duration,” Henn says. “We’ve got this thing for three days, baby. All you have to do is pick the lucky prick that gets to kick off our fun. The lucky kick-off prick.”
I twist my lips. “Aha. Winner, winner, pricky dinner.” I pull out a dildo that looks a lot like Henn’s—Caucasian-colored, circumcised, and average in terms of length and girth. The only thing noticeably unlike Henn’s dick is how unnaturally straight it is. Henn’s penis isn’t bent, but this thing is stick-straight in a way human penises can’t replicate. Other than that, however, this fake dick will serve as a nice stand-in for my boyfriend’s real one.
“You don’t want to try something totally different than your usual fare?” Henn asks. “This is meant to be fantasy fulfillment, and you’ve got my dick in real life, any time you please.” He takes the bag of dicks from me. “What about this purple one? That looks fun. Or maybe pick one that’s way bigger and thicker than mine?”
“No, this bad boy is perfect as a starter kit. If I get really comfortable with your stunt double, then maybe we can experiment with something like ol’ Nessie here after that.” I point to a massive dildo that rivals the ratios of the Loch Ness monster, and Henn chuckles.
Henn puts the bag onto the bed and embraces me. “We don’t have to do this, you know. You said this is a fantasy of yours, so I thought it’d be a fun surprise for you. I’m not hell-bent on it, though. Don’t feel like you have to do it for me.”
“I don’t. I genuinely want to do it. But that doesn’t mean I’m not also nervous about it.”
“Fair enough.”
I smirk. “And by the way, let’s not pretend this isn’t a huge fantasy for you, too, even more than it is for me. That much has become abundantly clear, sir.”
Henn snickers. “Guilty as charged.”
“Guilty in the first degree.”
“So guilty, I’m probably on death row.”
“Oh, for sure. You’re a dead man walking.”
We both laugh.
“Seriously, though,” Henn says, “no matter how excited I am, it won’t be fun for me if you’re only doing it for me. I don’t want to force you.”
“You’re not. I want to do this, as long as we take it slow. This is way outside my comfort zone.”
“Slow-going it shall be, my pretty Plátana. If you want to stop at any time, say so and I’ll press the instant kill button.”
“You’re going to be working the control box?”
Henn looks surprised. “Well . . . yeah. That’s kind of the whole point. That’s not okay with you?”
I take a deep breath. The look on Henn’s face makes it clear he’s dying to control my pleasure, and not merely observe it. “No, yeah, that’s fine. Unless it turns out it’s not. At which point, I’ll tell you so.”
“Deal.” For a moment, he looks like the adult version of a kid on Christmas. But, quickly, he clears his throat and assumes a more neutral facial expression. “Okay if I set it up?” When I nod, he gets to work, anticipation wafting off him like a physical thing. He attaches my chosen dildo and slathers it in lube. He tells me to straddle the box, still in my clothes, so he can adjust the height on the vibrating pad that’s going to press against my clit. He slathers that sucker in lube, too, and, last but not least, reminds me to pee before we get started, like the guy at the sex-toy shop instructed.
When I return from the bathroom, the only thing left for me to do is take off my clothes and board the thing. But I’m frozen in place. With a smile, Henn pulls me to him in the middle of the room and kisses me deeply. After a moment, his mouth travels to my cheeks. And then my neck. When he returns to kissing my mouth, he slowly begins removing my clothes. And by the time the last article of my clothing hits the floor, I’m aroused and wet as can be, despite my nerves. Henn reaches between my legs and strokes me to full arousal, making my knees buckle. Finally, I stroke the bulge behind his pants and whisper, “Get naked with me.”
