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As I twisted at its end, the device suddenly come came to life. Its quiet hum seemed awkward against the dark and candle-lit setting. Touching it against her skin, she let out a quiet yelp and pulled away. Approaching slower, I worked my way inside her folds to nestle the toy up against her clitoris. Moments later, the oscillating pleasure had taken over her body as she moaned and shook her way through an orgasm.
And so that’s how the first experience with a sex toy went for Caitlin and me. It was certainly a titillating adventure for the both of us. While I knew she certainly enjoyed what she felt, Caitlin was usually very shy about such things. So as I got dressed and prepared to leave, I questioned her, and was a little surprised by her response.
“So, what did you think?” I inquired.
“That was GOOD, like really good.”
“How good?” I asked back.
“Like, ‘I wish you would hurry up and leave so I can do it again’ good – that was the strongest orgasm I’ve ever had.”
“That’s exactly what I was afraid of,” I murmured, “I’m probably never going to get laid again” as I managed to give a puppy dog frown.
Caitlin came over and hugged me assuring me that “it’s just different” and there was nothing that could compare to my warmth and the feeling of me against her skin. It was a desperate attempt to cover up that she just had the time of her life, in a way, I, or no other man could give her.
Unfortunately, I had to go, or I probably would have stayed to give her a second round. I kissed her goodnight, cautioned her against vibrating her clitoris numb, and went on my merry way…
…To say that Caitlin and I were shy and innocent at the time would have been an understatement. The mere act of walking in the adult video store to buy the vibrator for her on that Valentine’s Day 2000 was undoubtedly the most fearful and embarrassing moment of my life. My only solace was that I didn’t see a soul I knew, and she seemed really impressed with my gift “for her.”
Caitlin and I met in high school when we were juniors, but nothing really happened at the time because I had a girlfriend. We talked some, and I kind of kept her “in reserve” in case anything happened. When I ended up going to a different college than my previous girlfriend, Caitlin quickly appeared on the scene.
Since I was going away to college we agreed our “relationship” should be primarily physical as a means to prevent heartbreak at the end of the summer. It quickly became just the opposite, within two weeks we were dating, and by summer’s end we had agreed to try a long distance relationship.
Now that first summer before college was quite the experience. I had only had one serious girlfriend previous to Caitlin. She was zealously religious and needless to say, I received only minimal sexual attention. I found some comfort in the fact Caitlin was as inexperienced as me. She had only kissed another boy before, and it was exciting to open the doors to new experiences together.
That summer, we certainly did ALOT. But the emphasis was on quantity more than experimentation. This was all fine with me, after all, Caitlin was still very conservative. She didn’t like the lights being on, was uncomfortable with me going down on her, and wasn’t very open to new locations. I didn’t care much at all, for the first time in my life I was getting laid, to an attractive girl, at that.
Caitlin was a small girl, about 5’4″ with a slender build. She was a brunette with these large brown eyes. More than anything, she had that “girl-next-door” cuteness to her. She wasn’t the type of girl you’d see in a magazine or as a model. She had an average body, but a shapely face and tiny little mouth that was undeniably “cute.”
Since Caitlin was so conservative, the success of our first tryst into toys came as a bit of a surprise. I knew that slim pink vibrator had to rock her world for her to be so forthcoming about how she felt. I was afraid I had created some kind of addict. It turned out, however, that she didn’t end up using it that much. Only when I wasn’t around or in situations of extreme horniness would the toy come out to play. What she never denied, however, was the fantastic way it made her feel.
As that first summer ended, so did the first real chapter of my sexual life. Unfortunately, we were both still virgins. You see, Caitlin had a “hymen of steel” as we joked; it was a genetic thing whereby her hymen was just too strong to be broken naturally. At just 18 years old, Caitlin wasn’t about to ask her parents to get the medical procedure done to enable her to have sex. But that’s a whole different story…
Our first summer was one of incredible hook-ups. Unfortunately, the vibrator never came back out in my presence again, despite my pestering. That was just her nature, and it’s something I learned to begrudgingly love and accept…
… And so here we are now, five years removed from that first rendezvous. Caitlin and I got engaged, have rented our first apartment, and settled down in a rural part of North Carolina. And this is where our story really begins.
At bahis firmaları 23 years old our sex lives remained plentiful, but admittedly in a rut. We had been doing the same thing for five years, and both Caitlin and I acknowledged that things were in need of improvement.
We had brainstorming sessions in the past to think of things to try, but because of a lack of creativity or an unwillingness to admit to our secret desires, things never really changed. I’ll admit, there were certainly things I thought about that I never suggested, but I certainly didn’t want to expose any fantasies to Caitlin she wouldn’t approve of. I was in a constant battle to find something that was hot and innovative, but also within the bounds of what was possible.
My genius idea finally struck late one night. Katie had to work the night shift at her job on a Friday, leaving me all alone at the apartment. All my friends were out of town on vacation, so I showered early and took a bit of a pajama night since Katie wasn’t expected home until about 2:00 AM.
Around midnight while flipping through the channels I stumbled on some soft-core late-night Cinemax porno. The poor dialogues, attempts at a plot, and cheesy music aren’t exactly my cup of tea, but the visuals certainly did create a little twitch in my pants. I flipped off the television and went into the computer room for some more hardcore enjoyment.
I pulled up the Internet and went browsing through one of my site, watching some videos as I stripped down. As I watched video after next, there was one that caught my attention; A petite little girl atop a Sybian machine.
Now, the Sybian machine wasn’t a new concept to me at all. I had seen videos of the device in action since I was a young teenager. Sybian machines and toys in general had always been a weakness of mine. There was something very hot about a girl getting herself off without some sweaty guy grunting and pounding away at her. Watching videos like that was one of the few times in the porno industry you could be assured that the girl was actually enjoying herself and not faking orgasms.
After all, these toys were unselfishness machines that could vibrate, thrust, and stimulate thousands of times per second. At such rates of speed, the machines could contort faces, create screams, and generate orgasms like no man. It was incredibly arousing just for me to watch the girls at it; I can’t imagine how it has to feel for them!
Yet, these Sybian experiences also seemed to have an innocent nature about them. The girls do little more than sit atop the device and enjoy the ride with their eyes closed. It wasn’t like the double penetrations or anal sex that also appeared so appealing.
Even after I had finished the “task at hand” to the videos on screen, it was that same idea of innocence that kept crossing my mind. More specifically, I saw the opportunity for it to fill the void that Caitlin and I had in our sex life. I found it extremely arousing, and it comes across as kind of innocent. After all, if she loved the little pink vibrator, what wouldn’t be too like about the most luxurious of all sex toys? Now, the challenge would be convincing her of that fact…
… Right on schedule Caitlin arrived home at about 1:55 AM to find me half asleep on the couch, waiting up for her. I drug myself to bed, as she put on a pair of pajama pants, turned off the lights and snuggled underneath the covers with me. After about a minute of lying there spooning her with her eyes clothes, she rolled over and looked right at me.
“You beat off tonight, didn’t you?”
I kind of rolled up into a ball against her and said “Who?? Me??”
“Yes you, silly. I can tell you’re guilty from the look on your face.”
“Now what makes you think that,” I snapped back.
“Well, we’ve been laying here for more than 30 seconds and you haven’t humped me or tried to get sex tonight. So I know what you’ve been up to…” she explained. “Now what did you use when you did it?”
“Nothing honey, I just laid here in bed and imagined being with you.” I half-sarcastically responded.
“Mmmhmm. Sure. At least you just admitted to what you did. Now do I need to go check the computer history or are you going to fess up?”
“OKAY-OKAY,” I quickly and emphatically shot back, “Girls. I looked at girls.”
“Mmmhmm, and what type of activity were these girls involved in?”
“Toys,” I found it safest to stick to non-descriptive one-word answers.
“Mmmhmm, what type of toys?” her predictable interrogation continued.
“Sybians” I figured if I was going to sit here and get grilled on the topic, I might as well see if I could cleverly work in my ideas from earlier. Caitlin herself was no stranger to the Sybian. I had described the device to her back in our teenage years. In her naivety she was clueless as to what thing did, and I happily obliged to provide a sexual history lesson.
“And does that turn you on?” Now, Caitlin is usually really laid-back, but she never hesitated to humiliate me in situations like these. It’s like she almost got some kind kaçak iddaa of satisfaction from getting me into an uncomfortable situation.
“Yep it sure does” I responded in an overly-proud tone of voice. “But you know it would be much hotter if you would do something like that for me.”
“Whelp, you never ask, maybe you could get things like that if you were bold and took some initiative.” Admittedly, I was a bit shy, but so was she. In reality, this was just some attempt to look bold and try to pinpoint me as the cause of all problems.
“Fine then, consider this me asking.” I retorted back.
“Haha. Okay. Well you better go find a second job, the things only cost like $2000. But if the things cost that much, it HAS to be worth it. So if you love me enough to go get me one, then sure, I’ll be happy too…” she remarked with a big shit-eating grin.
“It’s a deal then,” as I extended my hand. She shook it.
Now the only reason she could act so confident was because she doubted that I would call her bluff. Now, I had a mission…
… I wasn’t about to go out and spend $2000 on some sex toy that costs just as much as her engagement ring (Although, undoubtedly, it would make me happier). So I prepared to get creative in obtaining a Sybian for her to try.
But where in the world do you look for a thing like that? It’s not the type of thing that grandma sells at a yard sale when cleaning her attic. Neither will you find one stolen somewhere on the streets of New York. A slightly more hopeful, but similarly dismal search of eBay didn’t find a one. This was going to be slightly harder than I originally expected.
After doing some research on the Internet, I did find some hope. Online, I found groups of Sybian owners who rented or permitted usage of their machine to people they called “riders.” I was hopeful to find someone near our area that would let us rent a machine to try in the comfort of our own home.
However, it turned out there were no such “renters” within a 250 mile radius of our home. I didn’t think convincing the misses to take a 4-hour haul just for some toy would be too successful, so I dropped that idea.
There is, however, another similar group of Sybian owners who let people use their machines. They come to your house with the machine, or vice versa. And, for free of charge, they will let you use the machine – the stipulation being that they are allowed to watch.
Now, scrolling through the list of individuals who participated in this program. I have to admit, I was FAR LESS than impressed. Reading the profiles and descriptions it seemed like nothing more than a bunch of middle-aged perverts who bought the machines as a way to seduce women. Needless to say, the idea of some 60 year old beating off while watching my wife get off didn’t set well with me.
Near the bottom of the page was the one listing that caught my eye; A Sybian that was owned by a lesbian female in her mid-30’s. Now the idea of a lesbian looking on might not appeal to my wife, her profile was professional and comforting. The female, “Anne,” as she called herself was a sex therapist who owned the machine through her business. After hours, she would let the Sybian curious try the machine, provided she could watch. Despite her attraction to the fairer sex, she promised to be discrete, provide no interference, and simply watch. Furthermore, everything could be done in the relative safety of her office.
I sent Anne an e-mail to see if she really existed, and discuss the details of a possibly exciting experience. I knew the bigger challenge laid in convincing my fiancé…
… Meanwhile, Caitlin knew I was up to no good when I came gleefully skipping through the front door, laid a big kiss on her and said, “Good evening honey!”
“What are you so excited about?” she questioned.
“Well, remember that deal we made a few days back…” and then I just smiled.
“What?! You went to the bank and took out a loan?” she joked “What did you tell the lender you needed the money for? But no, seriously, what did you do? Win the lottery?”
“I found a machine… now a deal is a deal, *right*?” And I carefully scrutinized her face as she went from scared, to nervous, back to scared again. “Come on, I finally took some initiative, now it’s your turn to hold up your end of the agreement.” And I think that statement struck a chord with her. She realized if she rejected me, then somehow she could be to blame for a lack of adventurousness.
“Sure, a deal is a deal, but I promise you it won’t be as good as what you expect,” she reluctantly responded trying to but a damper on my success.
Over the next several minutes, I hashed out some of the details to her, and they were met with continual criticism. Her lowly attitude made me question how bad I wanted to go through with this. Whenever I hit a potential snag, like the fact we’d have to go downtown to someone’s office to have the experience, I always played the “come on, be adventurous” card and she begrudgingly came into agreement. So it was settled, now to arrange the meeting…
…Turns kaçak bahis out, Anne did exist and she was more than accommodating with her “services.” Through our brief email exchange she seemed to be a rather well-spoken individual whom we could trust. In our subsequent emails we arranged a Wednesday evening to be our time of meeting, and she gave us directions to her office. I was excited; I just wished Caitlin would feel the same way.
In actuality, with her negative attitude, I would have probably given up on something like this a long time ago. However, it was such a fantasy of mine; I was almost determined to see it through…
…Later that evening, just two days before we were to meet Anne I managed to corner Caitlin and inform her of the plans and discuss with her feelings towards all of it…
“Honey, I just don’t understand how you can be so supportive of trying new things, and then have such a negative attitude when such an opportunity comes about,” I prodded. “You agreed that things had been a little dull, I am just trying to spice things up a bit.”
“I don’t know.”
“Yes you do know; now tell me what’s wrong! On the rare occasions we do something adventurous, it always turns out great, but you’re in such a hurry to crawl back into your shell.”
And so continued my prodding and questioning for about fifteen minutes, until she finally gave in with an adequate response.
“OKAY – OKAY, you really want to know why?”
“Well first of all, I am scared. It’s not often we try new things, and every time we do I am scared that I won’t perform to your expectations or I won’t be able to go through with them. Secondly, I don’t want to be thought of as a whore. Lastly, I hate how much this turns into a competition sometimes. I just wish these things could come more naturally.”
One by one I answered to each of these fears, and in a persuasive, yet heartfelt way was able to calm them. By conversation’s end I felt a lot better about where we stood.
“You want to know something else?” she asked.
“I am actually really excited about Wednesday. Really really nervous, but also excited. Part of me was too proud to admit that to you, and the other part too embarrassed.”
This brightened my mood, and that night before bed we had some very passionate sex. Ironically, it was in the missionary position, but I wasn’t complaining…
… And so rolled around Wednesday. All throughout work I was practically counting down the hours in my head. Truthfully, as 8:00 got closer and closer, I was even getting nervous. As 4:00 rolled around, I grabbed my briefcase, sprinted for the door, and hurriedly drove home.
Cailtlin’s nervousness was evident as we were both getting ready a few hours later.
“What should a girl wear to a thing like this?” she asked. “Do I wear comfortable clothes, I mean, c’mon, they are going to come off anyways. No, maybe I should wear something nicer; I don’t want to come off as a piece of white trash…”
“Clean underwear,” I interrupted her. “Put on clean underwear, you know, in case we would get in a wreck or something,” and I smiled.
The nervousness only built on the short 6-mile drive into town, and it gave me some time to think things over…
…I should probably mention at this point there were a few key details that I neglected to tell my fiancée. First, I didn’t make it at all clear that Anne intended to watch the proceedings. I hoped that I could dismiss such concerns by assuring Caitlin was a professional, and did this type of thing all the time, and was just watching to help us. If that failed, I just hoped she enjoy the feelings so much, she really wouldn’t care what was going on.
Secondly, I didn’t mention the fact that Anne was a lesbian. Caitlin would probably be a little apprehensive about all of this if she knew it. However, in our discussions Anne promised to be “discrete” and “watch unless told otherwise” so I was confident she was being honest with us…
…And so after about ten minutes of driving, we had arrived in the vicinity of Anne’s office. It was kind of eerie, with the usually busy streets of the business district dead. Empty parking meter after parking meter lined the long streets. Anne had sent us careful directions, and we easily found her building
Parked right in front us was a nice little red Mercedes, I assumed it belonged to Anne, as there were no cars around for hundreds of feet. I thought to myself “at least she is doing well for herself, so she must be legitimate.” Caitlin wasn’t about to be the first one out of the car and lead the way inside, instead she just sat in the passenger side and anxiously looked towards me.
I got out and opened the door for her. She followed as we walked inside the building and up the first flight of stairs. We followed the directions on the name placards in the wall to her office, but we could have simply followed the lit hallways, as the remainder of the building was pitch dark. Reading the names on the doors, I finally read one reading “Anne Haddox.” Looking back to make sure Caitlin was still behind me, I told her “Looks like this is it,” and gave her a peck on her already blushed cheek. I gave a short knock and pushed open the opaque door.
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