On the First Day of Christmas, My Best Friend’s Husband Gave to Me…
...a dick underneath the pantry.
No, really. When I went to fetch the fine china for my lovely guests (my best friend of ten years Sarah and her husband Brandon) within the lazy susan underneath my top cabinet there it was standing tall and haughty and ornamented with a shiny party store pink ribbon--a long purple dragon dildo.
Now, I’d joked on many an occasion with these two about purchasing a draconic member ever since we spotted some risque scaly prints at a Ren Faire kiosk this past summer. Never did I once intend on buying one. I was more of a rose toy kind of girl. Something about dildos intimidated me. It didn’t help that I was only penetrated twice in my life, once by my high school boyfriend of a month and the second by my (now ex)-boyfriend of two years Evan.
There was some kind of power in penises, in their ability to thrust in and out of you like a sword to its scabbard. At times I wished I owned one to be able to harness that energy for myself. Being a hole felt so helpless. Fucking myself on a silicone dick seemed like submission to an alien entity. A factory worker had his or her hands on that wiener, hell probably multiple workers did, not to mention the artists and sculptors and such; if I put it inside me, doesn’t that mean by transitive property I was now touched by a dozen hands? Going even further, if those workers were bepenised themselves: they touched their own dicks, and then the rubber one. So how many cocks have I taken in at that point? Were I more a whore than the average lady of the night by these calculations?
Musings of a barely non-virgin. Twenty-sex years of age and yet so much to learn. Maybe if I hadn’t spent my youth chasing a graduate degree followed by a fledgling career in Law, I could have the sexual resume Sarah boasted. Speaking of which…
“You need me to carry them or something? You never were great at balancing silverware when we worked at Chilly’s.” Sarah’s sharp soprano tone cut through the cascade of thoughts rushing through my mind. I hurriedly spun the shelf around and grabbed a stack of blue floral ceramic plates. “Nah, sorry, just zoning out a bit.” I said. When I brought them to the table Brandon grabbed them from my hands before I had a chance to lay them gently in front of my friends. For a moment I could have sworn his calloused carpenter’s fingertips brushed against mine, but it happened so fast I couldn’t tell.
“Thank you Lana. For having us over on such short notice, and making all this. If it was too much I really can just get something on the way over next time, it really isn’t a hassle.” Brandon’s husky bass smoothed over the crevices between each word like a song and pricked the hairs on the back of my neck. He and Sarah had met back at Chilly’s, she a waiter and he the wealthy lawyer being waited upon. His eyes were a glistening chocolate brown that matched his carefully styled hair and groomed beard. It was still peculiar to me how a man who looked like a stock photo model used for romance novels on Wattpad was as into nerdy stuff as Sarah and I. He’d suddenly asked me the other day if he could come over for some impromptu D&D over dinner. I’d printed the character sheets and cooked a pork roast with potatoes from the grocery store. They would have been happy with pizza, but I felt an urge to cook and present my food to them. To Brandon especially.
“No it really isn’t a problem. Roasts are so easy, just lay out meat and veggies in a pan and toss in the oven. The hard part is not getting so distracted by my phone that I forget to take it out.” I replied with a nervous chuckle as I took my seat at the other end of the table opposite from my guests. Sarah chortled. “Yeah, hard to hear the oven timer over the clips of that video game character you’re obsessed with. What’s his name again? Bet you want him to lay out his meat.”
I feigned shock at my best friend’s trademark bawdy humor, hand clutching imaginary pearls at my throat. “Why, I thought us besties. You really don’t remember Gastarian? He’s the reason I even got into D&D. And I did get to see his meat in game, for the record.” Brandon gave me a wink that felt dreamlike, I nearly fainted and had to sip some ice cold water to bring me back to Earth. We all shared a hearty laugh and dug into our food while building our characters in the sheets I printed out that morning. Through the evening we joined together in many more laughs, smiles and crude jokes. We also planned out our upcoming Christmas party at Sarah’s, making a Facebook event and inviting as many of our friends and past coworkers as possible.
As I went to escort them to the front door upon their departure, Brandon turned around with a quizzical look. “Ah, shit. I think I forgot something in your bathroom. You go and warm the car, Sare bear.” he said back to his blond wife, who entered their SUV at the end of my driveway with a snicker. He went over to the upstairs restroom and beckoned me over. “Uh, Lana. I think I need some help over here.” I ran over obediently, wondering what kind of assistance I’d have to provide him. Before I could process what was happening, he took me through the doorway, arm around my waist and hand gripping my cheek, and forcefully pressed his lips to mine. His tongue found its way through my lips which were agape in shock and my knees crumbled. He held me tight and continued exploring my mouth as one of his hands traveled to my rear and gave it a strong squeeze.
“Mmm, mmm…” I grunted helplessly. His hand was stretching my asscheek apart from the other in a way that also pulled on my pussy lips and I was getting terribly wet from the tension. Just as quickly as he’d intruded upon my body he vacated, leaving me stunned and bracing myself on the sink behind me as I nearly fell. He straightened out his coat and gazed at me for what felt like eternity, longing lingering in his darkened eyes. Eventually his eyes glimmered again and he flashed me a harmless, boyish smile that sent pangs to my heart. “We’ll see you Sunday, Lana.”
“Y...yeah…”
That week at work was impossible to slog through without thinking about him. My thighs kept clenching together and I got so wet during meetings that I’d have to excuse myself to the restroom to relieve myself quickly. Just thoughts of the kiss alone sent my groin into a wild heat. Sarah, oh God Sarah, I’m so sorry, but I am going to be fucked by your husband in your bed on Christmas Eve, I panted quietly to myself in a bathroom stall with my finger plunging into my cunt beneath my sheer pantyhose. It was destined, and I was not one to quarrel with Destiny.
One time after I’d fingered myself for a couple minutes, I pulled the dildo Brandon left for me out of my bag. I studied it in my hands, mentally measuring it against the circumference of my vagina. I then rubbed it against my vulva, prodded, the entrance, and finally, tried to put it inside me.
It was too big. A jolt of pain rocked me as it stretched my orifice too wide too soon. Not one to give up easily, I decided it might work out better if I ride it instead of inserting it standing up. Squatting over the bathroom tile I feel a sense of shame wash over me—this was such a filthy place to fuck myself in. But oh, I was so horny I couldn’t care; Brandon’s grip on me was too strong. After a few awkward attempts, the silicone dick finally shot up all the way inside me and I let out a small gasp of pleasure.