Broken Seals Ch. 05

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While gaining some much-wanted sexual experience from Matt and Ro, my relationship also resulted in a flood of new confidence. I felt connected to myself and my body; I wanted to wear clothes that showed off more of it and became more outgoing, slowly but surely learning that almost no one (certainly no man, even a gay one) was going to be miffed at a busty, young coed trying to talk to them about something. It’s not like I flirted (intentionally) or chatted people up randomly; I just got more assertive when I needed something and discovered it was a lot easier than my internal anxiety made it out to be.

Make no mistake, this wasn’t a “change” or a metamorphosis, I just got a great bit more comfortable in my own skin and voice. It was imperceptible to most people, even ones who’d known me for a while, but it was noticed by one of my besties I met my very first semester in college, Quinn.

By pure coincidence, she and I shared several classes our first year despite randomly picking things that fit our schedule and would knock out GE requirements. We connected really easily, and, being freshmen, really started to cling to each other for mutual support at parties and in clubs. Quinn was more slender than me, Filipino, but born and raised in the US, a couple of inches shorter, and with long black hair that she either kept in a simple, tied-back way or some extremely elaborate, feathered-out way and nothing in-between. At first, she seemed a little intimidating because she had multiple piercings in her ears, and always had her nails painted some bold, defiant color that changed frequently. But we were pretty similar in how we grew up and what our values were, though she might be described as a bit more artsy in her expression.

She and I would get lunch together at least twice a week and chat about everything. We got pretty close, and when Matt and I started dating, I filled her in on the ups and downs of the relationship, though I never mentioned anything about cheating with Ro. Still, it was a little after the end of my relationships with both of them that Quinn and I got into this conversation over sandwiches:

“So are you still seeing Matt?”

“No. No, he and I are, I think, finally done-done.”

“Well, it’s a good step. You’ve been sounding like you’re ready to move on for awhile.”

“So ready. But you know…I’ll miss him.”

“Of course.”

Maybe it was my time of the month, but I felt a wave of self-pity wash over me and my eyes got very wet. I was so horny and wanted to scream from lack of sex. Almost anybody could have offered me a hard dick and I would’ve taken it in that moment. Quinn saw me drop my head and heaved a little sigh, moved over to my side of the table, and hugged me. Holy shit, the physical contact…I just exploded.

It was such a pure hug, but I was so starved for touch that my crying reflex erupted. I remember thinking in that moment that Quinn was such a great friend and beautiful person. I wanted to trust her with what I was really thinking and feeling, but was so ashamed, and if I didn’t say anything, this could just be the crying fit of a girl who just broke up with her boyfriend. After a minute, I detached my face from Quinn, whose pink top now had a big, dark wet spot. I composed myself and looked at her, and all I could see was compassion; she even had tears for me in her eyes.

In that moment I decided “fuck it.” Not just because I felt I could trust her, but because it felt wrong to let her think Matt was some giant emotional thing when it wasn’t. I stopped sobbing and then looked her in the eye: “When you and Paul split up…how did you handle…the…physicality?”

“The what?”

“Dude…I’m sorry, but…I miss getting laid.” We both cracked up: me more because of her reaction of shock and mirth. “Really though, like it’s been a year, but what did you do then?”

“Well, we weren’t really too physical…it wasn’t anything to be missed, to be honest.”

It was as if I was struck by lightning, and the words flew out of my mouth before I could even stop to think about the consequences: “Let’s go to Ophelia’s.”

“Are you serious?”

“Do you ever use toys?”

“Me?! No!”

“I think I just need a good one…”

“I mean…sure! But, well…”

“Don’t you…?”

“Of course! But I just use my hands.”

“Me too! But for awhile I’ve wanted one, and now…I feel like I *need* one.”

Quinn was avoiding my eyes, but I’d learned through trial and error that eye contact bent people to your will so I moved my head to catch her stare. Quinn wasn’t a prude—I’d confided in her enough to know that—but I can say now, a decade later, that she was still shaking off some of the conservatism of her upbringing. It took a few seconds, and then: “Alright, yes,” she said with a stern furrow of her brow, as if to add “Of course I’ll go dildo shopping with you! We are modern, independent women, illegal bahis and nothing is wrong with masturbation, and therefore I will accompany you on this venture!”

Resolved as we were, it didn’t keep us from giggling the entire time on the trip to and once inside Ophelia’s Dildoria and Pornporium (the actual full name of the business). I never learned if Ophelia actually existed, but if she did, she was God’s gift. The store was a ten-minute drive from campus in a fairly boring part of town, “tucked away” one might say. I had heard rumors about it when I got to college, random jokes where “Ophelia’s” was a punchline that I had to have explained to me. So by then, I knew what it was and even where it was, but I’d never done more than drive past it. Quinn and I were biting our lips to keep from giggling as we tiptoed in the parking lot to the entrance, looking over our shoulders as if we might get “caught” doing something that, in hindsight, every girl at that age should be doing.

Opening the door, consumers were greeted with an overlain table of beautifully arranged lace panties, between which were little troughs of single condoms and lube. The walls were painted a very seductive shade of mauve, but not dark: the entire place was well lit. It was supremely comfortable. When we got around the table, amusement was replaced with awe: carefully arranged, lining shelves that were ten feet tall, were all the sex toys, lube, and lingerie on heaven and earth. If this was a movie, this is where the choir’s singing would chime in.

My eyes were drawn straight to the dicks, and I propelled myself there like a bee to his favorite flower. Probably not knowing what else to do, Quinn followed close behind. I just remember thinking, staring at that particular wall of dildos, “how glorious.” It was like most any other sex shop, with various colors, sizes, and styles, but I’d never seen anything like it before; after all, even hardcore porn featured real people, not disembodied phalluses lined up passively for review. I like to think that I was maintaining some poise, that my mouth was not agape, but something surely gave away my vibe, or maybe Quinn’s, or both, and before we could even look at one another to say anything we heard: “Hey there!” and jumped a little. “Welcome! Do you have any questions?”

Before us stood a girl with a blond buzz cut and dazzling smile, maybe mid-twenties, slightly shorter than me, dressed in black and purple, and chubby but still looking good, confident. I hesitated at the question—I’d trained myself for years to say “no, just browsing” to any sales associate I’d ever encountered in a store so they could leave me alone to my internal dialog, but I realized in the moment that not only did I actually need help, I wanted help; the choices were, in fact, overwhelming. “Yes, um…what um…what would you recommend for uh…a first time, or not a ‘first time,’ but to like…get started…?”

“Well, first of all, congratulations! This is amazing, and I’m so happy to be here. I’m Veronica,” she said as she put her right hand at her chest. She wasn’t overly enthusiastic; she seemed normal, and maybe that was cultivated, but even so, it put me at ease. I could sense the act of intimacy and reflexively did the same.

“I’m Esme.”

“I’m Quinn.”

“Glad to meet you. Is it your first time here too?”

“Yes. Uh…yes.”

“Well that’s great. SO! First toys ever, or…?”

“Yeah,” I said. “First ever.”

“Great, follow me over here, just to this shelf here. So depending on what you like to do, we have a few options.” She led us over to the vibrator section, which actually had very few of the realistic-looking dicks that I had gravitated toward at the beginning. Instead, what covered the walls here were brightly-colored, smooth-shaped toys of all sizes, and many with two heads—one short, one long. Veronica plucked a purple one of comparatively average size off the shelf that was meant for testing. It looked nothing like a cock: just two smooth phallus shapes of silicone, with the shorter one sporting a pair of short, thick antennae. She switched it on; it hummed in her hand. “The advantage to these, is that they can kind of do whatever you want. Feel that,” She held it out holding the base between her thumb and forefinger, and so I grabbed, holding it more like a sword than anything. With my left hand, I touched the vibrating penis part of it, first with my finger, then wrapping my whole hand around it like a cock I might let fuck me.

“Wow,” I said and paused. Remembering Quinn, I turned to her and offered it to her, but with my hand still clasped around the handle so all she could do was feel the vibrating penis part. She took the bait and did the same double touch, tentative and then a firm grasp, as if to test if it would keep vibrating in a tight grip.

“So can I ask you girls some questions?” Again, I like to think I was wise to all this, illegal bahis siteleri but clearly I wasn’t, and remember feeling the deer-in-the-headlights look and just quickly nodding. “So when you do it yourselves, what do you like to do? Like, do you put fingers in, or just rub outside, or…how?”

I smiled, and was actually eager to answer, but I jolted my face over to Quinn because I wanted to know her reaction, and she was already looking at me. “You first!” I said, as to avoid a jynx.

“No…you first. I’m here with you.” She turned her glance to Veronica: “I’m not getting anything.”

Veronica smiled: “It’s okay, I understand. So,” she turned her gaze only to me, “What do you like to do?”

It felt kind of like talking to a doctor, like she was just inquiring about an ailment in my vagina rather than the thing that titillates and amuses all of us, so I felt comfortable answering in the moment: “I like just…rubbing…” at this point I raised my index and middle finger up, pressed together, literally how I masturbated, and moved them in awkward little circles. I regretted it the moment I did it, but Veronica was unphased.

“Well, this here is the lowest setting of vibration, but if you push this here, it just kind of makes the head move,” she demonstrated, and vibration stopped, but the head of it started rotating and I know at that point, I couldn’t hide my face, which had my eyes popping out of my sockets. I looked back at Quinn and guffawed; she was biting her lip. “I think a lot of girls just want the vibration stimulation directly or near their clit, but some also just like some steady rubbing motion, so if I just turn it up,” she clicked a button at the base twice and it started to wiggle at the rhythm I’d indicated, “There, feel that,” she offered.

I held it as it moved and I kind of fell in love.

“Oh…okay…so um…how much for one of these?”

“One-o-nine, ninety nine.” I’m sure my shoulders visibly dropped, because I’d only brought eighty bucks in cash. But then, what seemed like Veronica doing the nicest thing in the moment (but not really, as the shop was otherwise deserted), she said, “we do offer a first timer discount of 20%, and then another 15% if you sign up on our email list, so…even with tax, it’s like 75.”

My shoulders probably perked back up, and sensing the opportunity:

“But she’s gonna get something too,” she looked at Quinn.

“Oh um…”

“What do you like to do? Fingers, or…?” I so admired her balls; she went there. Quinn didn’t want to disappoint me, but I also felt bad because she probably didn’t plan on spending a hundred bucks hanging out with me that day.

“Thanks!” I said putting my hand on Veronica’s shoulder and making eye contact. “I think, we probably need to try it out first and then you know, figure out if we need more…”

“Ohhhhhh…” Veronica nodded in understanding. “So you’re…together?”

“Yes!” I said, happy for the way out. Quinn said nothing to protest.

“Totally get it! So, need any lube or anything?” At that point, I understood Veronica was only trying to upsell, and my instincts kicked in.

“Thanks, I think this is exactly what we came here for, so we’ll take it,” and I gestured toward the register. Veronica was professional, and walked casually behind it in order to ring us up.

She pushed some buttons, took my cash, and a receipt started to print. She took a furtive look around, and seeing no one, reached down behind counter and threw a fist full of packets, then another, in the black bag that contained my new sex toy, “Just make sure you use this, and anything else you use should be WATER based.” I nodded and she handed me my change. “Good luck and come back, okay?” She winked.

“Of course. Thank you.” I said with more sincerity than I had ever done at a sales associate.

Quinn and I walked out and got back into my car. We said nothing for the first twenty seconds, as if to just get clear of the place, and as we came to a stoplight some distance away, she said, “First trip to Ophelia’s…”

“Yeah.”

“How was it?”

“You were there!”

“Yeah but…” she never finished her sentence. A minute passed, we got a little closer to campus. “I mean, I wanna say ‘how was it’ but, like you said, I was there. But I guess, I mean, uh…”

I smiled. I knew exactly what she was getting at but delighted at watching her squirm, and so resolved not to finish the sentence even if we stewed in silence all the way back. She sighed, and looked a little annoyed. She wanted me to jump in, but goddamn if I was going to—I wanted her to own it.

She somehow managed to maintain silence until I got to campus. I asked her where she parked and took her to the structure. The bitch waited until I stopped right in front to finally get out with it: “Let me know how it goes.” And she popped the door and started to leave.

“Wait! canlı bahis siteleri Um…are you okay?”

“Yeah of course!”

“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable or anything, I just…you know, I trust you.”

Quinn sat inside, swung the door closed and told me to find a parking spot. I went into the structure and we had a long talk. I can’t make a lot of the details public because they involve her and I haven’t talked to her in awhile, but she talked about some stuff, and ultimately, thankfully, she still was really cool about this whole thing, and more importantly for my own sanity and urge to bond with her, she really did want to know how “it” went with my new toy. I promised I’d use it that night and text her.

Fast forward a few hours: I was still fully clothed, and wasn’t even “in the mood,” but I took out the bag. Though I wasn’t alone in my house, no one saw me smuggle it in, and the walls were fairly thick unless someone put their ear right up to my door. When I looked through it, among the packets of lube Veronica had thrown in was a single, small, narrow, black plug with a finger ring at the end. I only knew it was a butt plug because of porn, and I’d never thought of putting something in my ass because my pussy made me orgasm so wonderfully, but…now that I had a plug, why not? “Maybe later,” I thought as I tossed it back in the bag and took out Andre (what I named him. Don’t ask).

I played with the settings, combination vibration and gyration, marvelling at the blur the little prongs made. I started to think about how I would use him: he had a long, bulbous shape: compared to Ro (my biggest at that point), he was bigger at the widest point, but also narrowed to be way smaller. I wondered if he could fit, if I would find it at all comfortable. My phone buzzed and startled me out of the daydream.

“How is it?” – Quinn

I grinned so hard. I really did want her to be into this, at least in some small part. This was the perfect encouragement. “Have it out now, about to do it.”

Thirty seconds passed “Okay. Let me know how it goes.”

“Goddamn, bitch!” and we exchanged emojis.

I got undressed, totally naked, and lay on my back, on my bed, trying to think sexy thoughts. I couldn’t tell you what my particular fantasy was that day, as I was into all kinds of porn, fantasies, and whatever else: I just wanted to use Andre. I didn’t turn him on at first, and just rubbed him against my vulva. It felt weird, so I set him aside, and started to just masturbate like I normally do, fingers on my clit, legs clenched tight.

I got myself good and turned on, and was super wet when I made a conscious (not sexy at all) decision to try and get Andre into the mix. Now that I was wet and could get some of my girl cum on him, he felt beautiful, like…this is how these things are SUPPOSED to feel.

Pushing him in though, ouch…no, definitely not like a penis; even when those penises rushed in, they weren’t a) this big, or b) this dry. And then like the eureka moment: LUBE, dummy. I tore open one of the packets with my teeth, put half the contents on the head, decided it wasn’t enough, and then put the other half on the head, slathering it with my hand. It was so smooth and shiny, and then I positioned it, and…

She SWALLOWED it; it slipped in with no effort and I even made a weird noise from my mouth. It was truly ridiculous, and I can laugh now, but holy shit. So yes, WAY bigger than Ro at the middle, but also, SO much narrower at the end! So it was like my lady just held onto him, and couldn’t let go!

I pulled him out (ow), and pushed him in (ow!), pulled him out (ow), and pushed him in (ow!). This was not doing it for me…

I was letting it sit comfortably in my vagina, thinking that I needed to “get used to” the feeling of a giant purple thing in there, when I remembered its stupid settings. I clicked the button to start the giration, and dear god…

It’s not just about the orgasm. Andre’s gyrations inside my pussy would never get me to orgasm, but what a fucking relief…it was like a massage, even if I wasn’t sexually excited, but he was definitely getting me there. You can only be so relaxed with your genitals stimulated and massaged before the mind starts to wander to…massive orgies and sprays of cum…right? It felt wonderful to have something like that inside me, to feel that fullness again. Of course, I missed a sexy man’s body on top of me, but this was substituting the most important element at least.

When I withdrew Andre from my lady she didn’t protest at all, but that was because everything was soaked and moved like butter on butter. He continued to gyrate and I looked at him twisting, all shiny with white lines, and I…strangely admired it. That’s when I had the idea…

With one hand holding the vibrator up spotted and streaked with my girl cum and lube, I used the other to search for my phone around me on the bed. I found it and managed to snap a picture of it. In retrospect, it was too bold, even reckless, but…Quinn asked for a review and…the results spoke for themselves, so I just sent her the pic with the caption, “fuckin awesome.”

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