Gettin’ Buzzy by Absinthia Vixen
By: Date: 2024.07.03. Categories: Sex Stories Tags: , , , ,

“You want to watch me?” she asks, knowing full well that I do.
She’s trying and failing to suppress that sly little grin that
makes my mouth go dry with need.

“Of course,” I say, trying not to show my eagerness like some
kind of perv. “I was wondering when you were going to try it out.
That is, if you haven’t already when I was out.”

She pulled another pillow on top of hers and plumped them up,
settling back slowly like a sultan and pretending not to hear my
last comment. “Sit down there, at the foot of the bed, sweetie.”
I obediently settled there, watching her heft the giant vibe like
a dumbbell.

“I could work on my triceps with that thing,” I said, watching
her grin widen.

* * *

Her new toy arrived a few days ago — I know, because I was the
one who signed the UPS guy’s little electronic tablet. The box
was a lot heavier than I thought it would be — maybe she was
even naughtier than she told me and bought some other sex toys
too. It was all I could do not to rip open the shipping box and
investigate, but I knew she’d kill me if I did. Better to wait
till she got home from work and watch her open it.

I have to admit, I was a little hurt when she told me she’d
placed the order. She’s got two damn vibrators already, both
gifts from me to cheer her up when her trusty coil model bit the
dust. One’s your basic rubbery pink dick-shaped model, and the
other’s more high-tech looking, with six-speed control box
attached to a weird rippled wand. We’ve played with both of them,
so I know she likes them. But she confessed that she was used to
something with a little more, well, horsepower. So to speak.

She thought the booklet of warnings and instructions that came
with the thing was a scream. “The massager is designed for
refreshing relief at the end of a busy day,” she shouted from the
living room, loud enough so I could hear her in the kitchen.
“Listen to this! After work, before or after sports, and for
removing everyday dullness, your Hitachi Magic Wand is always
ready to help you. I bet it is!” She plugged it in and tried both
speeds. The thing sounded like a Weed Whacker. “Yep, guess it’s
all ready to help me,” she said.

“You going to use it tonight?” I tried to sound casual, neutral.

“I don’t know,” she said. “Hey, is dinner almost ready? I’m
starving.”

Guess she wasn’t as keen to try it out as I was to witness the
maiden run, because the damn thing sat on her nightstand for
three days, looking decidedly unsexy, like some kind of power
tool or something. Who knows, maybe she gave it a test-buzz when
I was in the shower or something, but if she did, she didn’t tell
me. If it’d been me, I would have tried it right out then and
there. I love getting new toys — new anything, really. And she
seemed so damn-fired eager to replace her existing two with this
model — the wymmyn-owned Web site where she bought it calls it
“the Cadillac of vibrators.” Whatever. I wasn’t going to nag her
about it.

* * *

“Aren’t you going to undress first?” I asked her.

“Uh-uh, not yet.” Damn, I thought. What a tease.

“Here goes nothing,” she said, flicking the switch on the side to
L. “Mmmmmm, nice” she said, though I could barely hear her over
the buzzing whir the toy emitted. Her eyes closed and her face
relaxed. I watched her leg muscles flex as she rubbed the head of
the machine around the edges of her pubis, experimenting with
angles and pressure.

I wanted to ask her to describe how it felt, but didn’t want to
break her concentration. She seemed to forget I was there,
jamming the vibe hard into the spot where her thigh kissed her
cunt and holding it steady there. Women were so subtle, it kills
me. A guy would be flailing his dick around, making a big show
out of it for his partner, but with girls it was like they sank
into their desire and just wallowed in it. I lightly stroked her
calf, eliciting a happy-sounding mew. Guess she didn’t mind some
extra attention after all. I just wished she’d taken off her
sweater, at least, or better yet, slid out of those jeans so I
could tell if her cunt was getting all hot and perfumey.

It was weird how sexy she looked anyway, despite the way she was
gripping the vibrator like a plunger or some heavy-duty mixer.
Watching closely, I noticed how she twisted the head of the toy
so that it nestled ever-closer to her mound. The cord was
starting to wrap around the handle; I wondered if she’d end up
completely tangled in it by the time she came.

She opened her eyes halfway and caught my gaze, and if I didn’t
think she’d be pissed at me for disturbing her fun, I’d have
yanked her clothes off and devoured her on the spot. My dick felt
huge, making my pants uncomfortably tight in the crotchal area.
Still stroking her leg with one hand, I squeezed my erection with
the other. I was getting a little light-headed, watching her eyes
lose focus and haze over with pleasure. She kicked the toy into
high gear and groaned dreamily over the machine’s whine. Maybe
she was feeling a hundred times better than I ever could. I
wanted to crawl inside her and see. I wanted to fuck her
senseless.

I noticed that she was squeezing her thighs together rhythmically
around the head, her arms shaking a little from the effort to
hold the toy at the angle she’d decided was optimal. Come for me,
I thought. Like a fucking mind-reader, she gasped, sat up a
little, and gasped three more times. I thought she was gonna
hyperventilate — she didn’t seem able to breathe or cry out or
do anything but suck in air and shake, her face beet-red, her
eyes wild. She relaxed a little, still holding the buzzing toy to
her pussy, then shook again as she clicked it back down to low
speed and shivered some more. I was gripping her ankle and didn’t
even realize it until she turned off the toy and let it fall. Her
loopy grin made me ecstatic, proud of her for some reason, and I
crawled up to lie beside her and give her a hug. “How was it?” I
asked. I pushed my needy cock against her strong thigh.

“Pretty . . . great, actually.” Her voice was soft, as if she
couldn’t quite muster enough breath to push the words out. “How
was it for you?”

“You’re about to find out,” I said.

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