Sex Toy Tales: Tales

The package was in her mailbox on Wednesday afternoon. It sat there snugly, about the size of a boxed bottle of scotch, the sort she'd buy her father for Christmas. Elana picked it up along with a couple of payment reminder notices.

Upstairs, the apartment door snicked shut behind her. Elana switched on the light and crossed to the table, dropping the rest of the mail in an unread pile. The box was wrapped very plainly. The word ‘discreet’ sprang to mind. She moved to the window and opened the curtains.

The full length glass panes revealed twilight settling in the space between Elana's apartment building and the next. When she had first moved into the new apartment she had been disappointed that her balcony hadn't overlooked either the park or the water, but she didn't mind the view any more.

The gap between the buildings was bridged by a yellow glow as the light came on in the apartment directly across from hers. As Elana watched, a man came into view within the lit square, a familiar character in her own private performance space. She held up the package where the man could see it. At first he held his head cocked to one side, as if he was unsure what it was she was showing him. But then he visibly relaxed into a broad smile. Elana returned his smile, and unwrapped the box.

Beneath the brown wrapper was a cardboard container, and it took her a moment to get to the prize securely packed within. When she finally held it up, she was intrigued to find what looked like a long white microphone. At one end was a soft round ball almost the size of her clenched fist. A power lead trailed from the other end. She plugged it into the nearest wall socket and flicked the switch on the microphone's shaft. Time to sing!

The implement started to purr.

Elana stood in front of the window in a classic singer's stance, her legs apart to support her as she rocked back and forth. She held the white plastic shaft in both hands and mimed for a silent karaoke moment before her eyes caught those of her watching neighbor. She thought he looked hungry.

Elana lowered the vibrating ball of the plastic wand to her chest, resting it gently between the buttons of her blouse. The fabric made a fast sandpapery sound, like a cat scratching too vigorously. She decided the wand might work better without the distraction of clothes. Elana held the shaft in her right hand and began to unbutton her blouse with her left, but it was too awkward. The white plastic stem was quite long, and Elana shoved it, business end first, into the waistband of her jeans, much as a desperado would stash his pistol. With both hands free she was able to undo her top three buttons, before she shifted her weight and the wand wandered lower into her pants.

Whoosh! Elana's knees buckled at the sudden sensation. The low, insistent throbbing of the soft tennis ball head of the wand was too much, pressing at the top of her crotch. She fell to her knees, which only increased the pressure of the sphere against her pubic bone. Elana cried out, the sound of a cat overdosing on catnip, and she scrabbled for the switch to turn off the unbearably intense sensations.

Elana breathed deeply, slowly, feeling her face flush. She knelt forwards, her forehead resting against the window, and removed the dangerous implement from her pants.

She left it lying on the floor, seemingly innocuous now, as she regained her feet and sought the gaze of her neighbor. Elana couldn't tell if he was laughing at her, or whether his grin was recognition of something else. Excitement, perhaps; mutual anticipation of what would happen when she turned on the wand again.

She stood still and counted ten deep breaths, each slower than the last. Her vicarious companion was equally motionless, waiting for the next act.

Elana resumed unbuttoning her blouse, pulling out the crinkled tails and letting them drape loosely. She was wearing a bra with a front clasp, and she unfastened it. The smooth strip of her bare flesh from neckline to waist was bordered by the unbuttoned blouse, and she swayed gently from side to side to let the fabric undulate. One at a time her breasts winked from behind their curtains, nipples snagging on the cloth and betraying the arousal provoked by her sudden encounter with the unexpected vibrations.

She raised both hands above her head, and her blouse gaped open. This was fun, this was familiar, but it wasn't why the package had turned up in her mailbox, and Elana looked again at the wand on the floor. Suddenly she was in a hurry, aching to climb to the next level, to move past the harmless teasing that had characterised the connection between their two apartments up until now.

She kicked off her shoes and unbuttoned her jeans. Her fingers fumbled with the zip before she pushed the denim to her knees. Elana willed herself to slow down, to turn around, to face away from the window and bend over. She felt the cloth of her panties tighten across her cheeks and she tried to peek between her legs back at her solitary audience. She knew he liked this pose, but he was hidden by the bunched up jeans. Elana stayed head down and reached behind her, her hand closing on the smooth plastic shaft. Too bad if he wanted more preliminaries; she was ready for the feature.

Elana straightened, turned back to face the window, and flicked the switch. The humming sound didn't sound so harmless this time. Elana knew it was the hunting cry of the seductive untamed beast, the mating call of the wild white ball.

Forcing herself to do this properly, knowing what those stupid teenage boys who rushed like a bull at a gate must have felt like, Elana touched the trembling tennis ball to her chest again. She held her clothes back from her breast and ran the head of the wand in a large circle around the compact, tender arc of flesh, swirling in ever decreasing concentric circles until the beautiful dull pulse was pressing hard against her nipple. Elana swapped hands and repeated the action with her other breast, feeling the building expectation like an ache in her tummy.

Elana strove for finesse, but the anticipation was too strong to resist. She grasped the handle of the sweetly tormenting device in both hands like a broadsword, then reversed her grip so the head was pointing down. She pressed it against her breastbone, and began the final descent. It tickled across her tummy and her navel, and it didn't even pause as it glided across the waistband of her panties.

Elana gritted her teeth and went for the kill.

The vibrating ball pressed against her clitoris, sending deep, primeval rhythms through her body. She twisted it sideways, then back, trying not to let go too soon; trying not to lose all motor nerve control as those delicious, delectable, irresistible sensations flooded through her.

Once again her knees weakened, and Elana took a couple of hobbling steps forward to rest against the glass. She took one hand from the shaft and pulled her panties away from her body so she could re-sheathe the toy beneath the elastic. It stayed there, humming happily, even when she could no longer find the co-ordination to hold it with either hand.

The wave crested up to engulf her. Elana cried out with the intensity of it and slid down the window to the floor. She rolled onto her tummy, on top of the incessant buzzing, and ground herself onto it, letting herself go completely. Her buttocks wiggled and gyrated and she felt her fingers and toes curling convulsively.

Elana heard herself sobbing, her voice alternating between an insistent whimper and a drawn out slow howl. She couldn't move off the source of her indescribable enjoyment. The peak of her pleasure was followed by another, then another. She continued to bear down on the ball, feeling her whole body flush. Sweat dampened her clothes and dripped from her forehead.

When the waves had merged into an ocean of joy she flung out a hand and wrenched the power cord from the socket to still the pulsations. After a moment, she had just enough energy to roll onto her side off the uncomfortable bulge, and she lay there and let her thoughts drift through a decidedly purple haze.

It took Elana a long time to get up, first to her knees, then to crawl to a chair and drag herself to sit on it with her jeans still swaddling her knees. She grabbed the discarded packaging the marvellous gadget had arrived in. It had come with a catalogue of similar treasures, and Elana leafed through the pages. How could she reciprocate this gift? It was fascinating to see the range of possible toys for boys; the problem would be not to find one, but to work out which one to send him first.

She looked at the description of one item; a butterfly shaped device she could wear that promised to deliver interesting sensations to strategic locations. It had a remote control that operated from a surprisingly long range. Elana looked over at the opposite window and tried to judge the intervening distance. What would he make of it when he received two packages in the mail? Elana was already impatient for the delivery.