The Toy Box

Ben woke from his nap to answer the phone. "Hello," he said.

"Hey Ben." It was Karen. Immediately upon hearing her voice something slightly electric moved through Ben’s groin.

"Hey," Ben said non-chalantly.

"Whatcha doin’?"

"Uh, I dunno. Just winding down after work, you know. I was gonna nuke a pizza."

"No you weren’t. You were going to take me out." Ben could hear her smile, and he smiled back.

"I was hoping you’d call."

"Of course I called. I’m addicted to your body."

Another electric shock. "You don’t say."

"So are we gonna eat or what?"

"Okay, but I’m picking the spot if I’m buying."

"I’m buying, lover," Karen said.

"Oh really. I didn’t think the girl paid."

"I’d think after last night you’d know what a girl’s capable of. Meet me at Uno’s on Beacon Street. Leave now, okay?"

"Yeah, okay." Ben was so excited he didn’t question what he was told. Then, as he pulled the receiver from his ear, he hear his name shouted. "Yes?" he asked.

Karen said, "Do me a favor before you leave."

"Alright."

"And don’t ask why."

"All... right."

"Change your underwear."

"My underwear?"

"Yeah. Change it now."

Now Ben was practically trembling. If the phone conversation was this sexy, the night must be headed for fun places indeed. "Anything particular you want me to change into?"

"Something... you wouldn’t be embarrassed being seen in public in."

Ben chuckled. "Okay." Whatever, he thought.

Karen hung up the phone, and so did Ben. Whatever she had up her sleeve, Ben could at least hear her out before committing to anything. In any case, wearing clean underwear was probably a good idea. It hadn’t been an issue the night before, but he’d been sitting at a desk for eight hours, so better safe than sorry. He kicked off his shoes, pulled off his pants, flung his briefs across the room, whipped out a new pair of white cotton basics, what his mother called "whitey-tighties." He redressed and headed out the door.

The October wind was surprisingly warm, mostly still chilly but not blowing very hard and so it felt warm. Ben walked the four blocks to the restaurant, wrapped in a long coat and scarf, no gloves. Every so often a quick whip of wind would blow through his close-cropped brown hair and give him a chill. From the first step out the door, Ben’s thoughts were on the night before, a Thursday.

(FLASHBACK!)

Bored, without even day-work to do from home, he had thrown on his coat and wandered for hours, first to Starbucks and then for a few miles to Cambridge on foot. His destination, vaguely, was a club he’d heard about the week before from a few guys at the coffee machine. They were college interns from Harvard, and they made the place sound enticing. It was called Curiosity.

The club moved and shook like any normal Boston club. Neon and strobe light filled the senses. Girls and boys collided at the bars and on the dance floor, and in the corner booths. Ben, a voyeur of the most docile variety, sat at the bar and watched, nursing a longneck for a few hours. Throughout that time several girls sat beside him, but he made no effort to talk to them, and neither did they.

He was staring at a pair of girls dancing with each other on the distant floor when Karen sat beside him. Ben didn’t notice her until she tapped him on the shoulder.

"Buy me a drink," she said.

Ben turned, expecting to see one of the bleached-blonde teeny-boppers that traveled in packs. After all, the voice he heard was a little-high pitched, and the request was more of a demand, very in tune with the Barbie-doll attitude. What he saw, though, was the deepest pair of brown eyes he’d encountered in his life. The unnatural light of the club made them seem opaque, almost hollow. For a moment Ben realized he didn’t spend much time staring into a woman’s eyes. He’d remember to try it again with another woman. She was pretty, about his age, older than the college kids but not by much.

He bought the beer, expecting a friendly banter to follow.

"Don’t mind me," the girl said. "Keep watching."

This embarrassed Ben greatly, but he was excited as well. He glanced at the girls on the dance floor, then back to new woman.

"They’re pretty," she said. "You like them."

Ben could detect no trace of teasing in her voice. Unable to think of anything to say, Ben sipped the beer and looked back at the girls. His heart was pounding.

"You’ve been here a long time," she continued. "You like to watch."

"Everyone does," Ben said. He took a long swig, to fortify himself. "They like to be watched, too."

Without warning, the woman put her hand flat on his chest. She was feeling his heart.

"Do you do more than watch?"

She was controlling him, or the conversation at any rate, and for some reason this made Ben a little angry. He was still attracted to her, but he wanted to put her in her place as well.

He looked her in the eyes and said, "Every time." The words were spoken before he knew his own intent.

The club thumped painfully with the deep bass of the music, but as Ben started into those brown eyes, he experienced nothing but silence. She took his hand and led him to the dance floor, taking his coat from him and tossing it on the bar. Once on the floor, the girl glowed blue in the bright neon lights, flashing like lightening as the strobes and spotlights passed over her. Her outfit revealed every inch of her, a tight black sleeveless t-shirt with a deliciously short white skirt. She pushed Ben’s chest with her hand, separating them, then she spun to the music for a moment, tossing her short brown hair in bobs around her ears. Ben swayed easily as he watched her, then stepped in and grabbed her by the hips. She draped her arms over his shoulders and allowed him to sway her. With expert skill she stepped into his body, pressing up against him, running her hands over his pinstriped work shirt, down his thighs, then back up to his neck.

She pressed her mouth against his ear and yelled over the music. "I’m Karen," the girl said.

"I’m Ben."

"You’re interesting. I like you."

"Let’s get out of here, Karen."

"Okay."

Karen took Ben by the hand and led him out the door and to her car. She pressed him against the door and kissed him fiercely with her whole mouth.

Once in her apartment, Karen possessed Ben physically and mentally, slowly destroying his assumptions about how people should behave behind closed doors. First Karen undressed him, then slowly moved to her sofa and sat down. Ben stood naked and erect, feeling the exposure of a soldier in combat when his foxhole is shallow. Without a word, Karen unzipped her tight denim pants and slid her hand down the front. She moaned, her lips barely apart.

"What do you want me to do?" Ben asked. It was all he could think of to say.

"If I told you," Karen said in an even voice, "to do whatever you want, would you still do what you think I want you to do? Stop being a pussy."

At that moment something exploded in Ben’s mind. He fell to his knees and pulled off Karen’s shoes. He sucked her toes through the stocking fabric, and the girl moaned deeper. Then he pressed the bottoms of her feet against his penis and thrust between them, coming hard and far. Karen, still clothed, sat covered in a thin long stream of semen that also fell on her carpet and couch. She made a sound like an animal calling, then ripped her top off and fell on Ben.

The rest of the evening moved at a similarly fast pace, and morning arrived far too soon. Ben walked home in the post-dawn hours, moving slowly because his wrists and ankles were sore from silk bindings. He showered, dressed, and caught the train to work. By five o’clock he convinced himself he’d never hear from Karen again, even though she had his number.

Now, walking to Uno’s, Ben didn’t know which thrilled him more, the memory of the night before or the prospect of the night to come.

(RACY FLASHBACK ENDS...)

Karen waited by the front door, shivering a little. When she saw Ben, she waved happily. Ben thought she almost looked like a normal girl, not the sort to do all those nasty things he’d seen her do. As Ben approached her, he wondered what the proper greeting would be. A head-nod perhaps, or a brief hug. Maybe even a cordial handshake.

When he reached Karen, she said, "Hello Ben," pulled him closed, and glided her tongue gently inside his dry mouth. She caressed him inside until the saliva was flowing and heat filled his entire body. Then she pulled away and said briskly, "It’s cold! Come on." And she pulled him inside by the coat lapels.

The host asked, "Smoking or non-smoking?"

"We’re picking up an order for Karen."

The host replied, "Sit in the bar, and I’ll check on it."

"Thanks," Karen said and headed for the bar. When she sat, she turned to Ben and said, "Buy me another drink."

Ben ordered two Bud Lights then said, "So we aren’t staying here?" He suddenly wanted to grab the pretty girl by the neck, and so he did. She gasped as she turned sharply to face him. Her breath became labored. Her face drained of all emotion except desire.

"That’s what I wanted to talk to you about, boy." The word "boy" was spat through clenched teeth, like a growl. Her hand slipped inside Ben’s thigh and affected him more stringently than he anticipated. He relaxed his grip on Karen’s neck and looked around to see who was watching.

"You know what I’m open to, I think." Ben took a sip of beer. "Let’s head for your place."

"It’s not my place we’re heading to," Karen said.

Ben turned to her, but she was watching a couple hold hands in a booth. He said, "That’s interesting."

Karen did not turn away from the handsome couple, but instead tightened her grip on Ben’s thigh. "I want to try something tonight, Ben. Something... dangerous. It scares me. And I can’t do it alone."

Her words lit a fuse in Ben’s mind. What wild idea did she have in mind?

"You can’t do it alone?" he asked. He wanted confirmation, but he was probing as well.

Karen smiled at Ben. "Those are the rules, I’m afraid." She sipped her beer.

"But why me? You barely know me."

Karen looked deep inside Ben with those unearthly brown eyes. She was about to speak when the bartender walked up with four large pizza boxes. "Karen?" the man asked.

Karen, lips on the bottle, nodded. She pulled out some twenties and tossed them on the bar. As the bartender went to make change, Karen looked back at Ben. "Hungry?"

"What’s this about?"

"I can’t tell you yet," she said, "but this is your last chance."

"I’m game," Ben said without hesitation.

"I need a boy without limits," Karen said softly. This time she did not look at Ben.

Ben leaned close to Karen’s ear. "Let’s test them," he whispered.

Karen smiled wide. "Yes!" she whispered, again growling. "That’s what I wanna hear." The bartender brought Karen her change, and she tipped him. Ben picked up the pizzas, and the two adventurers left.