The Dildo

*Edited by Redwings1202

"Hello?"

"Hey Brian, it's me. Listen, are you available Saturday?

"Depends. What time?"

"Like the afternoon, say 2?"

"Sure, I think I can manage that."

"Great! I'll text my address but, listen, you can't say anything."

"You know I never do."

"No I mean when you get here. You can't say anything. Not a word ok?"

"Wait, what do you mea..." but she'd already hung up. I shook my head.

Typical Sandy. Of course I'd do what she wanted, because in this so-called City of Angels, she's the real article. Sandy is a bleach blonde goddess, 5'10", mostly legs that end in a delectable ass. She has the nicest set of DDs that money can buy, and a face that keeps her in consistent modeling work, which is says something in L.A.

Me? I'm 5'1", almost completely bald at 26, and have recently accepted the fact that I am a bartender. Not a stand-up comedian bartending between gigs. Just a bartender. You'd think that with the deck stacked so high against me I'd have some compensatory feature, like super intelligence or being hung like a T-Rex. But, besides my lack of height and hair, I'm pretty much normal. I can't change it, so I embrace it. I shave my head, stay active at the gym, and try to be the best damn bartender in town. Just the same, I'm still not in the same league as Sandy. I thought I was just flattering a customer to earn my tip when I asked her out. I gawped like a fish when she accepted.

We went out for two months, after which she curtly announced that our relationship wasn't going anywhere and called it off. The next Saturday night she was back in the bar with some unctious jackass. I tried not to be the stalker ex, but couldn't help but notice him winking at girls and fist bumping guys while he ground against her ass on the dance floor. When she took a break to go to the ladies' room he hit the bar and ordered two Heinies. "That's a beautiful woman you're with tonight," I shouted over Lady Gaga's enthusiastic moans.

"Fuck yeah she is," he grinned, "I'm gonna tap that 'till she can't walk straight." I gave him a thumbs up, but pulled Sandy over first chance I got.

"Where'd you find this creep?" I asked just loud enough for her to hear. She smiled and slapped me on the arm. "I never thought you'd be the jealous type!"

"Seriously," I said, "you can do better." She laughed, told me to get over it and went back to dancing.

The following Wednesday she was back, this time alone. "You were so right," she whined while she sipped her complimentary Alibi. "Todd was a

total

douchebagel. I'm going to have you check out all of my boyfriends from here on out."

I thought she was kidding, but she wasn't. My "reviews" were pretty frequent at first, but tapered off as the months went by. Sandy'd bring in a guy and send him to the bar for drinks. I'd serve him, exchange a little small talk, and scope him out. None of them deserved her. They didn't even come close. Then again, I

did

have an ulterior motive for killing her relationships. No boyfriend meant no sex, and Sandy took to alleviating her libidinal frustrations on me. We weren't a couple; just fuck buddies when neither of us was in a relationship...which for me was practically never. I tried not to abuse my position but the tool bags Sandy always came in with made the job pretty easy.

That is, until Alex.

I hadn't seen her for a while, then she breezed into the bar, beaming like a glostick with 225 lbs. of beefcake in tow. If Sandy was a real life Barbie, Alex was every inch her Ken; he had the hair, the height, the body builder's frame and dazzling pearly whites. They were out on the floor a long time and he was making me nervous; he was fully focused on her. He had his hands on her the entire time, but they were always on her shoulders, her waist or the small of her back, but never further. When the time came for his unwitting interview it all checked out. He was respectful to her, even in her absence, and babbled about qualities even I had never appreciated in her. I couldn't find a single thing wrong with him.

"Well?" she asked when he excused himself to the men's room.

"Far as I can tell he's the real deal," I said. I wished to God I could have said something else, but it would have been a lie.

"Really?" Her eyes sparkled. "I thought for sure you'd say no but he's so great, I waited six weeks to bring him in and I was sooooo nervous! You're positive? He's really a good guy?"

I explained that a five minute conversation was sometimes enough to tell if a guy was a total prick, but hardly enough time to see if they were matched on 31 levels of compatibility. So, as far as I could tell, everything I'd seen checked out. She bounced up and down, hugged me, gushed her thanks and "buh-byes," and that's the last I saw or heard from her.

Then, a little over a year later, I got her call.

Naturally, I assumed Sandy and Alex had finally broken up and I was once again her booty call. Her stipulation for silence? Strange, but whatever. I shaved, scrubbed, brushed, deodorized and got psyched up for the visit.

But nothing could have prepared me for that Saturday.

Her apartment was a new place, nicer than what she'd had before. Beautiful landscaping, huge pool, on site gym and a killer location. A place that said, "I can afford a house, but I prefer to live in the city." There went the idea that she and Alex had broken up. Either this was combined incomes territory or Sandy had landed an extremely lucrative gig. Doubts picked at me while I found a parking space. Was I getting laid today or not? We'd always had a strict "no cheating" policy and I still wasn't comfortable breaking that. And if she had hit it big what did she want from lil' old me? Hopefully the same thing she'd always wanted. I climbed up to the third floor and rang the bell, and hoped for a quick answer. Instead I got more confusion.

"Oh good, here it is!" Sandy called over her shoulder after she opened the door. I kicked off my sandals at the entryway, looked inside and saw the most adorable redhead ever. Crystal blue eyes, tiny pixie nose, hair just brushing her shoulders and cheeks that were dusted with freckles. She sat on a luxuriant leather couch, not the Ikea one Sandy used to have, with her brows furrowed like she didn't know what was going on. That made two of us.

Sandy grinned and held out her hands like she was Vanna White and I was a new car. "It's my dildo!"

I almost broke the silence rule right there but she held her finger to her lips and shot a warning glare in my direction. In the meantime, the other girl was apparently not under the same restrictions.

"What?!" she spluttered and stood up, "I didn't think you meant an actual

guy

! There's no way I can do this! What are you thinking!"

"Um, I think you should go make us some drinks," Sandy said to me.

I silently complied, but as I exited the room for the kitchen, I couldn't help but sympathize with the strange girl on the couch. What the hell

was

Sandy thinking? I tried to eavesdrop but the cute redhead wasn't shouting anymore and the walls were too good. Looks like I was still in the dark.

I located the liquor cabinet and took stock. Jose, Goose, Jack, and Malibu. No vermouth, no gin, but there was a half empty bottle of Cointreau. A quick peek in the fridge verified that Sandy kept cranberry juice. "Yep," I said to myself, "Cosmos it is," and got to work, wondering how she could introduce me as her dildo. I guess it wasn't entirely inaccurate, but I had let myself believe I was a little more to her than that. "Well," I thought while I sloshed the alcohol and juice together in a shaker, "so much for petty fantasies."

When I brought the drinks in, the redhead had calmed down. Sandy took her Cosmo without so much as a glance in my direction, and the other girl only flicked her eyes at me before resuming voicing her thoughts.

"It's just that I'm not that pretty," she said. Sandy made an unladylike snort.

"Not even true," she said, "guys look at you all the time."

"Yeah, and what do they see? Freckles. All over my face and arms. The moment I step outside I'm covered with them."

"Oh stop, your freckles are cute."

"No, they're not. And I have these stubby little horse legs, and no hips, and no ass, and no boobs." She'd started at a reasonable decibel level, but now her voice built into a wail. "I look like a little boy! And no one-"

"Susan, you're being ridiculous." Sandy cut her off, but Susan wasn't deterred.

"No I'm not! I'm ugly and bad at sex and I can't keep a boyfriend!"

"Hey! Calm down! I think this has gone long enough. Brian, take off your clothes."

Wait, what? Even when the request registered I was hesitant, but Sandy insisted.

"Now please, before we all freak out and join a convent?"

Wow, this had just become

very

awkward. I peeled off my shirt and someone made a little noise while my eyes were covered. It must've been Susan because Sandy said, "I know right?" My shirt cleared my head; they both eyeballed me like I was a piece of steak. I blushed hard, feeling objectified, which is simultaneously flattering and insulting. I guess this is what a girl must feel when a guy checks her out. I briefly considered making a little show of it, but I hadn't started that way and technically Sandy had said "take off your clothes," not "perform a striptease," so I eased my shorts down and nudged them out of the way.

"All of them," Sandy flatly ordered, so I pulled off my boxers and held my breath. I should have been rock hard, being naked and alone with two beautiful women, one of whom I knew quite intimately, but the situation was so weird I wasn't erect at all.

"Turn around for us," Sandy said . So, feeling more and more like a dog in a show, I did. "Very nice," she said after about ten long seconds. Maybe it was just me, but I though the A/C was cranked up a little high.

Sandy announced, "Alright Su, now it's your turn."

Susan looked startled, and then it was her turn to blush. "There's no way. I can't do this."

Sandy, the bubbly, almost flippant cheerleader type, got dead dog serious. Voice level, looking right into her eyes Sandy said, "Yes you can, and it's important that you do. You are totally safe here, and it will be ok." They held each other's gaze for a minute, like they were doing some form of girl-telepathy, and then Susan nodded. She took a swallow of her drink and stood up.

Eyes fixed on the floor, she pulled off her top to reveal a simple, utilitarian bra. Still staring at the floor she unzipped her shorts, and did an adorable hip shimmy as she worked them off, then with just a moment's hesitation, deftly unhooked her bra and shrugged it off, leaving her standing in nothing but her light pink cottons. She was right, she didn't have much in the boob department, but what she did have was perfect. Two small swells tipped with quarter sized areola, pale in color but distinct from the rest of her skin, with eraser sized nips that were clearly erect. I'd like to think it was because she was turned on, but more likely it was because of the cold air.

She hooked her thumbs into her panties but Sandy told her to stop. She stood up and walked behind her naked friend, pointed toward my pelvis and whispered "look." Susan dragged her eyes off the floor and fastened on my cock, which had grown to full size.

"

That

is why we're using a real guy today," Sandy murmured in the redhead's ear. "You did that to him. You are a beautiful, sweet, sexy woman, and whoever says otherwise is lying to you." Susan stared at my cock, not saying a word. "Ok punkin?" Sandy chirped and patted her friend on the ass. Susan nodded and sat back down.

Sandy grinned sweetly. "Great, let's get started then. I think you should blow him." Susan was in a constant blush, but Sandy's mention of oral made it deepen.

"I thought you were going to show me?"

"Nope. I have a boyfriend so I don't use dildos, but I'll walk you through it."

"Um, ok," Susan stood up and tentatively stepped toward me and dipped down to her knees.

"What are you doing?" Sandy barked before her knees hit the carpet, and Susan popped back up like a whack-a-mole.

"I thought you said to give him a... Blow. Job." She was clearly uncomfortable saying it.

"Yeah, but not like that. It's hard on your knees and neck. Sometimes I do it to be all submissive and Alex gets a kick out of it, but that's an extra special thing. Here, bring him over to the sofa."

Susan cautiously took me by the hand and guided me to the couch, and Sandy arranged cushions and told me to lie down lengthwise. Then she positioned Susan, still on her knees, between my legs, but in a more comfortable position. I'd never considered that before. I'd thought blowjobs were all about hands and tongues and lips; necks had never entered my mind but it made sense. No girl I'd ever dated expected me to give head from my knees, why should it be any different for them?

In the meantime, Sandy delivered a tutorial like a seasoned instructor. "So remember what we talked about with the date? It's the same thing with sex, any kind of sex. Tease him until you're sure he wants it, then give it to him a little at a time. If he's already naked that means that he's going to get off. That's a given. There's just no point in rushing it." Susan listened attentively, hands resting on her pale thighs. "So," Sandy continued, "this is a good time to get acquainted with his cock. Look at it, touch it, move it around. It's all yours."

I was afraid Susan would take her friend's advice too literally and start hauling and twisting on my junk, but she was quite delicate. The lull in activity had caused my enthusiasm to wane a bit, but she smoothly traced her fingertips over the shaft's surface, followed veins and lightly stroking under the head. My cock quickly returned to full strength. "It's growing!" she sounded amazed, pleased with herself. Sandy replied "Yep, this is exactly where you want him."

I closed my eyes and relished the sensation, a long continuous feather touch, from the base to the tip and back, circling the ridge of the head, down the underside, and around. She fluidly switched from fingertips to the backs of her knuckles, then lightly scraped with manicured nails and returned to fingertips, sometimes one finger, sometimes two or more. I shuddered when she used all four fingers with both hands, stroking up in a gentle petting motion. It was always light, always soft, not rushed, not overly eager. She wasn't trying to get me off, just curious about my cock and what she could do with it.

"Hey look, precum," Sandy's voice interrupted my reverie. "Take your fingertip and spread it around." Susan did, adding new sensation on my sensitive head, painting it in my own fluid. "Now blow on it," Sandy pressed, and Susan did, and I groaned.

It went on and on, small touches, small motions. Teasing, pushing, never grasping, not moving to the next level. There was no commitment, she just flirted with me. Well, she just flirted with my cock, naked, beautiful, and patiently stroking. The feeling was wonderful, but she was pushing me past the stage of reason. Around the shaft in slow spirals, back and forth, a slight squeeze to milk more precum, more spreading over the head, and that was all. I wanted, no, I

needed

more; this light petting just wasn't enough anymore, but, sworn to silence, I couldn't ask.

She gently cupped my balls with her left hand and softly traced with her right. Maddening caresses, sweet agony. I clenched my fists and bit back a whimper, mentally pleaded for her to give me more, to press harder, to stroke more firmly, but she continued as before. Gentle touches, feather strokes. I fixed the thoughts in my head and stared hard at her, trying to communicate with my eyes, but she wasn't looking at me. He eyes were fastened on my cock, casually playing with her new toy while I burned up inside.

"Alright, now get your hand around and squeeze it."

Sandy's order was pure bliss. Susan's small hand wrapped around me and pressed, gently at first but harder with Sandy's encouragement, stationary but pulsing. "Know what? Your hands are pretty small. I'll bet you can get both of them on him. There ya go. Now squeeze and kind of jack him off at the same time, but slow."

After the erotic torture I had just endured, the feeling of Susan's hands firmly pushing, moving the soft outer skin over my hard cock, up and down, squeezing and releasing, it was amazing.

"More precum," Sandy intoned softly. "What I want you to do is stop.

"Now look him in the eye.

"Now lick it up."

Susan leaned in close and stuck out her tongue, broad and flat, against the head of my cock. With her bright blue eyes locked on mine, she slowly licked, using the entire length of her tongue, flicking the tip and lapping the clear, sticky liquid into her mouth.

"How's it taste?" Sandy asked.

"Kind of weird," Susan answered, and went back to jacking me. Up and down, squeeze and release, steady movement, no aberration. She built me up, unconsciously moving harder, adding pressure, giving more. Oh, fuck it was good, but after that brief contact with her tongue, even this was no longer enough. I needed more again, but she didn't seem as if she were even thinking about giving it.

She went on for what felt like ten minutes but was probably closer to two or three, because it always feels longer when you have no idea when it will end. Both hands on my cock, jacking me, squeezing me, milking more fluid out of the tip. I hoped that she would lick it up again, but she just let it trickle down and lubricate her manual activity, which added to the pleasure but still wasn't enough. I wanted to thank Sandy when she said. "Ok, I think we've made him wait long enough. This time I want you to kiss the very tip."

Again, with those gorgeous eyes fixed on mine, she leaned over and tenderly kissed the tip of my cock.

"Kiss it again, but take more of it in."

The tip of my cock pressed through warm, soft lips, and gently slid back out.

"Again, more, and so on until you can't take any more of him."

With unwavering eyes, she took more and more of my cock in. First the head, then softly back out. Down about an inch, then back out. Not just bobbing her head, she rocked her whole body forward as she filled her mouth with me, breathing through her nose, blinking her eyelashes, laving her tongue over me until she was about three quarters of the way down. Then she stopped. It was everything I needed, and it was incredible.

"Is that all you can take?" Sandy asked. Not daring to pull off until instructed, Susan nodded, rubbing my dick back and forth in her mouth. "That's not very far," Sandy said, sounding a little worried. I wanted to shout, "It's enough! Let's go!" but I wasn't allowed. "Never mind, maybe we'll teach you deepthroat some other time. Grab the rest of it with your hand, squeeze him like you were before. Keep going as far as you can and use your tongue."

Susan went back to work, just as Sandy described, still looking up at me.

My god she was good! Maybe it was because she had me so worked up, or maybe it was because a pretty girl I hadn't even known existed twenty minutes ago was naked with my cock between her lips. Maybe it was just the unfamiliar and strangely erotic haze of being treated like a male blow up doll, while my ex-lover coached her friend through giving me head. Maybe was the simple fact that my cock was being sucked into a hot, wet, eager mouth.

Whatever. The whole thing had my mind buzzing and my blood rushing faster and harder. More, oh god I wanted more.

Her tongue was circling and pushing and lashing and slurping. It was soft and pliable, but the roof of her mouth was ridged and firm. All of it was rubbing, caressing, sliding and fucking my hard, greedy cock... and it was heaven. I looked down at her, listened to her soft, feminine grunts as she worked it in her mouth, the smack of broken suction as she pulled off and then devoured me again and again, feeling her tight lips squeeze around and suction resume, tongue undulating.