Why?

by Sarah Bayen

Why Can't a Woman be More Like a Man?

SCENE ONE

 

"And this one's a little different," the demonstrator said, pulling out a sample from her bag. The device was black, and interestingly shaped. Ten sets of eyes around her were still looking at the last sample, as it was handed round, buzzing away to itself, its tip wobbling in a gentle spiral. She coughed in an attempt to gain attention to the latest showpiece. "We call this one the Extender."

"Oh I've heard of them!" one of the women gasped. "There was something about them on telly the other day! They're a bit kinky aren't they?"

"Not really," the demonstrator said with studied patience. "It's just a different design."

"Oh my goodness!" another woman gasped, as she clasped the previous sample, feeling its shaft.

"Bigger than your Peter is it?" the hostess suggested, to much mirth. "Come on Sandra, what about this Extender then?"

"Well," she said, "This is the bit you use, do you see?" She turned the sample upside down to show them the business end , the bit that you pressed against yourself. "It's got a whirly thing in it. It's quite good."

"Let's see." Three or four of the women stood up to get a closer look. "Is it electric then?"

"No, that's the beauty of it," Sandra went on. "You make it work by moving this bit here." She started to pull on the two-inch long plastic spike that came out of the front of the device. "That sets the whirly thing, well, whirling."

"Oh that looks good!"

"Here, you try it," Sandra said, smiling, and handing the extender over to the enthusiastic watcher. She looked at it curiously, and began to twang the spike.

There was a giggle. "It's a bit like having your own Willy!"

The woman with the device pulled a face. "Yes, it would look a bit like that if you were using it wouldn't it?"

There was another giggle. "Yeah, they said that on the telly. Can I have a look?"

The sample was passed around between the women, and all tried the spike and checked on the movement of the 'whirly thing' with some interest. "How do you keep it from falling out?" one asked

"How do you think?" another said. "That's why we did all those pelvic floor exercises after our babies!"

"Oh my goodness!" There was another salvo of giggling.

"Well I like it," one eventually said. "But I'd feel a bit funny having something poking out at the front like that."

"Yeah," her friend agreed. "It'd be a bit funny, like being a lesbian or something, you know."

"Yes," the other agreed, and, her face becoming serious, she handed the Extender back to Sandra. "Well, very interesting, I'm sure, but not for me."

"Yeah," two or three of the others agreed.

Sandra went on with the demonstration, and made sure that the hostess liberally supplied wine to her guests. She handed out the anonymous order forms, and settled herself down to listen to the women's gossip as the party drifted towards its end. As the guests left, they handed her the order forms, and she smiled, and thanked them for their business.

"How did we do?" the hostess asked her, as the last of the guests left.

"I'm not sure, I'll have to have a look." She shuffled the forms, and went through them. She smiled. A fair bit of lingerie, four vibrators of different sorts, and seven of the Extenders. Whatever women said, these were proving more and more popular this year.

"We did well," she said, "Very well indeed."

 

SCENE TWO

 

Viv closed her eyes, as Billy bounced up and down on her. They had been married seven years now, and this twice-weekly ritual held no excitement for her. She shuffled her feet to try and bare his weight more evenly, but it was still uncomfortable. He grunted, and lifted himself up on his arms, holding his breath. It was nearly over now, thank God. "Oh, oh!" she gasped with practiced realism. Then he exploded into her, grunting like a sweating animal, and his head fell onto her shoulder. Thank God for that, she thought. No more of this until Saturday now. She ran her fingers through his hair, as he panted out the last of his spasms.

"Was that good for you?" he grunted.

"Oh yes!" she said, while she thought, come on, get off me you brute I want to finish myself off as well while I'm still hot, and you never know how to do it!

Still he stayed on top of her, crushing her body as he crushed her spirit. She wriggled her hips, to try and hint that he should dismount. He didn't get the message; God, she thought, let's hope he doesn't fall asleep there! "I haven't finished with you yet!" he suddenly announced, dismounting. "Let's see if we can make you cum again!"

"It's all right!" she said quickly. "I'm fine!"

"No you're not," he said, in what he thought was a seductive tone. She had to think quickly! She didn't want him touching her, not again.

"I know," she said, pushing him away. "Let me try that thing I got from Mandy's party!"

He frowned. "What the vibrator? Aren't I good enough for you?"

"You're fine," she assured him, reaching out and opening the drawer of her bedside cabinet. "And it's not a vibrator, it's an Extender."

"Whatever," he muttered with disinterest.

Shit, it was already out of its wrapper. He was going to see that she had already tried it out, more than once! And God was she pleased with it! It gave her sensations that she didn't know she could have! At first, she had simply twiddled the little spike that came out of the front, like the demonstrator had shown them. On about the third time, probably Wednesday, while the kids were at school, she had discovered that you could rub the spike against the bedclothes, and leave your hands free.

"How does it work?" Billy asked, his eyes shut on the pillow next to her. What did he care?

Viv gritted her teeth. Did she really dare to use the Extender with Billy in bed next to her? She thought about it, and nearly put the thing away. But damn it, she was entitled to her enjoyment as well, even he should realise that! She pulled it into bed with her, and inserted it into herself, with a long sigh. Her body readied itself for a level of excitement that she had never experienced in the same room as Billy.

She began gently to twitch the spike, slowly at first. God, if he wasn't here, she'd be able to turn over and start rubbing it into the bedclothes. Nice as it was with finger twanging, it was better that way! She glanced over at him. He seemed to be asleep now, but any big movements might wake him. She twanged the spike harder and gasped to herself. Now this was real sex, not the pleasure-less activity they had just engaged in. She bit her bottom lip, and twanged harder and faster, bringing herself towards the brink.

"Can I do that?" she suddenly heard. Billy was awake and watching her. She shook her head, unable, as well as unwilling to speak. "Come on," he pleaded, grabbing her wrist, and moving her hand away, just as she was about to peak. "I'll do it."

He found the spike, and gingerly twanged it once or twice. He was so bloody clumsy! No sense of timing, no sense of rhythm! "Not like that!" she gasped. "Look, let's try something else." She moved his hand away, and turned to face him. She shuffled herself forward until the spike was resting on his flabby stomach. It wasn't as firm as the bed itself, but it would have to do. "Just stay still a minute," she said, closing her eyes once more.

Then she began to thrust against him, pressing the spike forward. His stomach had just about enough resistance to do the job. His hands had frozen onto her shoulders in surprise. But sod him! He had used her, now she would use him! She began to thrust faster and harder, alternately gasping and grunting to herself as she did so.

"I'm not sure about this!" he muttered.

"Shut up for a minute!" she snapped between grunts, and pressed further into him. Further, faster and harder she went, oblivious to anything except the sensation surging through her from where the Extender touched. She flung herself forwards and backwards, wallowing in the passion of the moment. Then with a screech, she exploded inwardly, and felt her breath taken away. She jerked forwards and backwards a few times more, and then, the tension draining from her body, she collapsed back onto the bed.

"Oh God that was good!" she said, for her own benefit rather than his. "That was just so good!" She felt herself drifting into oblivion, a warm comfortable oblivion that she deserved.

"It seems to work then?" Billy asked her. She could not reply for a moment. "I said, it seems to work," he repeated.

"Yes," she said with unmasked irritation. "It works fine."

He coughed. "Well," he said cautiously. "I'm not sure we should use it like that again. It felt a bit odd you poking something at me, instead of the other way around."

She did not want to have this conversation now. What an arrogant shit he was! Not sure that they should use it like that again, indeed! It was her toy, and she would use it when she wanted, and in the way she wanted, whether he wanted to play or not.

"I'm going to sleep now," she said, with finality. "See you in the morning."

She was aware of him looking at her for a few minutes after this, as she feigned the deeper breathing of sleep. Eventually she was able to ignore him, and concentrate on the memories of lust the Extender had put into her mind.

 

SCENE THREE

 

Alan was a real marketing professional. He had learnt it the hard way, not the way of the soft stupid kids he had to manage these days, with their bloody degrees and masters! He had left school and gone out and sold things, and he was bloody good at it! His philosophy in life was simple. If you played, you played to win! That applied to everything; to his golf, his driving, and even his conversation. Nobody, but nobody won an argument with him unless he didn't care enough, and let them. He liked to throw a few crumbs to the rest of the human race now and then, otherwise they might not tolerate such a superman living amongst them.

"Well this is the new prototype," Jenny said, holding one of the new Extenders out onto the Board table. "As you can see, we've made a few modifications to the spike in the light of what the demonstrators were telling us."

Alan looked at the thing. The Extender had been an incredible success, outselling all the other product ranges over the past eighteen months. He had been dubious of it at first, but heck, what did he know about women and their orgasms? All he knew about was marketing, and he knew more than anyone about that.

"We've made it longer, and a bit thicker."

"A lot longer," Alison, the Chair observed.

"Yes," Jenny went on nervously. "That's what our customers were asking for. A longer spike, and one that wasn't so, well," she giggled, "spiky!"

Alan held out his hand imperiously for the device. He was the only man on the Board, and he liked it that way. Women were even easier to bully than men, and, apart from times when Alison wanted to show her authority, that time of the month he called it, he could normally get his own way. "Christ," he said, to an anxious looking Jenny. "I don't know about anyone else, but it looks even more like a Dick now! I can't see women buying something that looks so much like a penis!"

"They buy the vibrators all right," Dorothy, the finance director pointed out. Alan looked at her contemptuously.

"Yeah, but they don't stick them out of the front of themselves like this!" He pulled his chair back from the table, and placed the device into his groin. The women looked away in horror at this unnecessarily phallic display.

"Stop it Alan," Alison said. "We get the point."
"Well exactly!" he crowed. "Our customers will think we're making them into blokes, or even worse, lesbians, if we try and sell them this!"

Jenny looked across to Alison before speaking. "Well Alan, your Department's research suggested that a longer and thicker spike might sell well."

He snorted. "Yeah, but I'm sure it didn't say that you should make it look like a bloody cock! I reckon you development people were fantasising a bit when you drew up the plans for this!" He held the new Extender prototype in the air like a trophy.

"Let me see it," Alison asked. Alan shrugged, and threw the thing across the table to her. She picked it up, and turned it over once or twice. "You've made some changes to the insertion piece too," she observed.

"Yes," Jenny said, breathlessly, distressed both by Alan's comments and his presence. He couldn't help being fat, but a bit of soap surely wasn't beyond him. "We've made it easier to hold onto, and to make sure the wheel stays in contact with the clitoris."

It never ceased to amaze Alan how easily his colleagues would talk about women's bits like this, and then get upset if he mentioned anything crude at all; typical female double standards, he thought to himself. Alison passed the prototype over to Dorothy, who looked at it carefully.

"What about the production costs?" she asked.

"It's more expensive to produce than the original," Jenny admitted. "But I think we'll be able to charge a higher unit price."

"Hah!" Alan exclaimed. "I'm not so sure about that!"

Dorothy turned it over and over in her hands. "Well the original has been successful," she began.

"Exactly!" Alan exclaimed. "No point changing horses mid stream, especially when you're winning!"
"But we've got to keep ahead of the market," Jenny stuttered. "You've always said that."

He glared at her. How dare she use his own truisms against him! "Ahead of the market, yes, but not off on a bloody tangent! We'd be not so much changing horses, as switching from a horse to a bloody donkey with this thing!" Jenny looked near to tears, and Alan felt pleased with himself.

"Mind you," Dorothy mused, "I can see the attraction of the spike being bigger."

Alan stared at her in astonishment.

"Yes," Alison agreed. "The original is good, but you have to be very close to press against anything."

"Exactly!" Jenny put in. "By making it six inches long like this, you not only get better leverage for the mechanism, but you've also got more scope to use it imaginatively!"

Imaginatively, what on earth was that supposed to mean, Alan thought?

"Yes," Dorothy murmured, still holding the prototype as if it was some precious artefact. "I can see that."

"Well women just won't wear it," Alan asserted. "Not looking like that. It'll make them look like bloody men. God, you'll be adding balls to it next!"

"I don't know," Alison mused. "You might be right for the middle aged housewife sort of type Alan, but that's not necessarily our market."

"No," Jenny agreed. "Didn't your research suggest that it was the younger single women who were most strongly in favour of a longer spike?"

Alan didn't answer. He had no idea what his department's research had turned up. Research was something the soft college educated minions did. He didn't research, he sold!

"I think it did," Dorothy added, still staring lovingly at the hideous device. "And we might be able to get the older woman interested as well, if we work at it."
Alan paused briefly, before speaking. "No we won't, believe me. This just isn't a runner! I tell you what Jenny, why don't you take this back to the boffins, and tell them to come up with something that will really sell? What about that nipple enhancement cream they were working on?"

Jenny opened her mouth to speak, but Alison shook her head. "Well I'm not so sure we should write this off as quickly as that," she said thoughtfully. Oh God, it's her time of the month, Alan suddenly realised. "Why don't we produce a few and trial it out in one of the Regions?"

"Good idea!" Dorothy exclaimed. "What about London?"

"That's what I was thinking!" Alison agreed.

Alan shook his head in pity. These stupid women were going to throw money away making a product that would never sell. He wondered what had got into them. This was Jenny's baby, so he wasn't surprised that she was keen on the idea. Alison, well, it was that time of the month again. Dorothy could normally be relied upon to be sensible. Christ, at her age she certainly didn't have to worry about menstruation! But today, who knew what had got into her?

The three women were beaming at each other, as Dorothy passed the prototype reluctantly back to Jenny. "So it's decided then? We'll trial it for six months in the London region?" Alison said.

"Against my better judgement," Alan muttered sourly.

"Well if needs be," Alison agreed.

Alan snorted. There were ways to make sure the product failed. Distribution problems, insufficient training for the demonstrators, even fiddling the figures if needs be. He'd make sure he won in the end, and that was all that really mattered. Alison stared at him, with his ruddy cheeks, and bloodshot eyes. Four words came to her mind, in groups of two; heart attack, and early retirement.

 

SCENE FOUR

 

The three of them laughed loudly to hide their nervousness, and Jim pulled the door of the bar open with more force than was really required. Let the men inside know that he and his mates were strong, and let the women in there know that they were prime shagging material! It was still quite early, and the bar wasn't all that full. With practiced eyes the three of them stared around the room, homing in on any groups of girls that they could find. Tonight's harvest was a little disappointing; only a few female groups were there. Never mind, thought Jim, there was time yet.

The worst thing about being in a group of three on the pull was that in all fairness to your mates, you had to find a group of three girls. There was a party of about eight girls, making a fair amount of noise at one of the tables. One of the girls, pretty foxy looking, stared at them, and smiled. If he could lose Pete and Jez, then maybe, Jim thought, just maybe.

"Let's get some drinks in!" he declared, eagerly rubbing his hands in alcoholic anticipation. Pete nodded his agreement, and walking tall, with their chests pushed out, they made their way to the bar.

"I'm just off for a slash," Jez announced, as they neared. Jim made some joke about him avoiding buying a round, although to be fair, Jez had bought the last one in the pub they had just left. He was nervous, was Jez, more nervous than he should be, and almost always had to test out the urinals before settling in anywhere they went to.

Jim and Pete found an empty space at the bar, and leant against it, trying to attract the attention of the rather attractive blonde barmaid. Jim tapped a pound coin on the wood. It made a satisfyingly loud noise. "Here, look over there," Pete said conspiratorially, nodding along the bar to where a group of three girls stood talking.

"Tasty," agreed Jim. "Three pints of lager," he shouted to the barman, who disappointingly had responded to his need rather than the barmaid. The small, rather sullen looking man nodded in response, and went off to get some glasses.

The girls were paying no attention to them, which rather surprised Jim. He was good looking, he knew that, and available. Two of them were sitting on stools, the one with her back to them had long dark hair, and was showing a fair bit of flesh on her back. They didn't know it yet, but for these three girls, this might just be their lucky day.

The barman returned with three foaming glasses, and with a flurry, Jim handed over a large denomination note. He was in banking, and it was always a good idea to let women know you had money. None of the girls noticed his gesture, however, engrossed as they were in their own conversation.

"Come on," he said to Pete. "Let's go and cheer them up!"

"What about Jez?" Pete muttered, looking anxiously at their quarry.

"He'll catch up. Leave his pint here," Jim said, dismissing his friend's doubts. He coughed to make sure his voice would be deep and resonant when he spoke, and, straightening his collar, sauntered off along the bar towards the girls.

"Well hello!" he said brightly, smiling at them as he arrived. "My name's Jim, though people who know me call me the Stud."

The three girls looked at him dubiously, and in passing at the tall gangly Pete, before signalling acquiescence in Jim's offer to buy them a drink. He asked them their names, places of birth, and occupations, before treating them to liberal doses of his wit. They paid sufficient attention for him to think that further effort might be worthwhile. Of particular note, he reasoned, was that one of them, Sharon, lived quite nearby, and had a flat of her own.

He was in full swing with his impersonation of Robbie Williams dancing when Jez returned from the gents. He shuffled up nervously, seeing the chat-up in progress, clutching the drink he had retrieved as if it offered some mystic protection. He was a sad case, thought Jim, especially when it came to women. It wasn't as if he was particularly ugly. He was short, it was true, shorter than both him and Pete, and his hair was rather untidy. It was his insecurity that made him such a loser, that and his wardrobe. God, he spent more on clothes than a bloody girl, with his poncey shirts and jackets, and smartly pressed trousers. Jim hoped that Jez's arrival wouldn't put the girls off too much.

He was surprised then when all three girls stared at Jez when he eventually shuffled forward, and not in disgust. They cast knowing glances and nods at each other, whispering into ears and giggling, and introduced themselves to him. He coughed nervously, and told them his name. The girls ignored Jim's attempts to renew his devastatingly amusing stream of anecdotes, and instead, engaged Jez in conversation, complimenting him on his girly shirt, and his uncomfortable trousers.

In spite of this, the evening went well. They bought the girls another round of drinks, and then another, and left the bar to find a table where they could all sit. Much to Jim's chagrin, the girls wanted to sit next to Jez, rather than him. Nevertheless, they had succeeded in finding female company, and as the drinks flowed freely, Jim began to think that they were in for a treat that night.

As closing time approached, Jim began to think how he could engineer a trip back to Sharon's flat for the three of them. He tapped Kirsty, another of the girls on the shoulder, to draw her attention away from Jez. "So what shall we do when the pub shuts?" he asked bluntly.

She blinked at him, and looked over to the other two for guidance. "Well we're going back to Sharon's place," she told him.

"Oh right!" he said with interest. "Why don't we come along and make a night of it? We could pick up a couple of bottles of wine on the way if you like."

Kirsty giggled, and turned to Sharon. She looked at Jim and shook her head. "No," she said. "We don't want you thanks."

Jim was crestfallen, but worse was to follow. Sharon turned to Jez, and took his hand. "But you can come along if you like. I've got some good music and," she paused, and leant closer to the shaking boy. "A big comfy bed!"

The three girls giggled outrageously at this. Jim's mouth fell open. This was unbelievable! How could these girls want to take Jez back to their place and not him! That little creep was going to spend the night alone with three girls, while he, unless he thought of something quickly, was going to spend the night alone with his palm!

"Oh come on!" he said, looking now at Sharon, who was poking her tongue into Jez's ear. "He won't be able to go all night with all three of you!"
"Oh I don't know about that!" Mel, the third of the girls retorted, causing all three to fall into giggles again.

"He can't keep a stiffy up for more than half an hour!" Jim told them.

The girls simply giggled again. "He won't need to," Sharon told him. "We can do that!" The three girls nearly split themselves with laughter at Jim's obvious discomfort.

"It's not fair!" Jim protested.

"Look," Kirsty said, feeling a little sorry for him now. "Let me look at your wrist." He held out an arm. "Not that one, the left one." He swapped over, and she turned his arm around, and pulled back his cuff. "I thought not," she said. "If you'd been wearing one, you'd have made sure we'd seen it."
"Yeah," Mel agreed, putting her arm around Jez's shoulders.

"Lovely Jez here is wearing one!" Kirsty announced, picking up the boy's arm to show Jim. "See?"

Around Jez's wrist was a thin pink string. Jim had never noticed it before, and blinked in astonishment. Kirsty giggled once more. "It means he can take it as well as give it! That's what we like, isn't it girls?"

"Oh yes!" Sharon and Mel agreed, canoodling with Jez, and laughing again.

Jim felt himself blushing. He had read something about this in a magazine the other week, but he had thought it was just one of those stories. Something about some new woman's sex toy; they liked to rub it against you or something, to get themselves hot.

"I can take it as well!" he protested.

All three girls stopped and looked at him, appraisingly. "Nah, you wouldn't!" Sharon said dismissively. "Come on then," she said, picking up her bag and Jez by the arm. "Let's go party!"
"Yeah!" Mel agreed. "See you later boys! Thanks for the drinks!"

Only Kirsty stayed sitting, while Jim and Pete looked mournfully on. "You coming Kirsty?" Sharon asked, as they shuffled out from the table, and began to make their way to the door.

"In a minute," Kirsty said. "Maybe this one can take it," she said, looking back at Jim.

"Sure I can!" he replied, anxious to do anything to stay with the girls.
"Well I don't want him at my flat," Sharon said contemptuously. "He talks too much anyway."

Kirsty glanced at her, and then back at Jim. "All right," she said. "I'll see you up there."

Sharon shrugged, and left, holding one of Jez's arms while Mel held the other.

"Do you really take it?" Kirsty demanded.

Jim felt his cheeks burning. Well if this mad chick wanted to rub a sex toy on him, prior to getting shagged, he wasn't going to stand in her way. "Sure," he replied.

Her eyes widened, and she grinned. "Come on then," she said, picking up her bag.

"But Sharon said I couldn't go to her flat!" Jim protested.

Kirsty threw her eyes upwards in despair. "Don't be such a girl! We don't need a bed. A dark alley will do."

Jim gulped. "Okay," he said standing. "Sorry Pete, I'll see you tomorrow."

Pete nodded grimly, and drank the last of his pint. Kirsty was already heading towards the door, and Jim fought his way through the crowds and had to trot to catch up with her. She led him out of the pub, and down the High Street till they came to a back road, and then, up a dark alley between two houses. This was more like it, Jim thought, he knew the rules of this game.

He grabbed her arm, and leant forward to kiss her, pressing her gently against the wall. She turned her face aside. "Not so quick sunshine!" she said, putting her bag down on the ground. "If you're taking it, you get your arse against the wall!"

Jim hesitated. This sounded all wrong. Still, if she wanted to be in the driving seat, then that was all right by him, He turned around, and lent his bum against the wall, holding his arms out to her.

"Well drop your bloody trousers!" she said, looking for something in her bag. Jim unfastened his flies, and pulled his trousers down a little, allowing his erect penis to bounce into the night air. Kirsty was paying him no attention, but had lifted up her dress, and was fiddling around with something. Obviously satisfied at last, she slipped her panties down, and stepped out them delicately, and then turned to face him.

Jim's mouth fell open in horror. Sticking out of the front of her dress was a massive plastic erection, dwarfing his own. Instinctively he drew his legs together. She frowned at him. "What's the matter?" she asked. "Cold feet?"

"It's so big!" he stuttered, unable to take his eyes off the thing.

She looked down at it. "It's a mark three," she said proudly. "Twelve inches!"

Jim felt himself shudder. This was against nature, surely! She smiled, and moved forward, looking down at him. She laughed. "Come on," she said coaxingly. "You'll have to drop your pants further than that! I need to be able to get right underneath you!"

Jim trembled a little, and moved his hands reluctantly towards his waistband, and pulled it further down his thighs. Kirsty laughed once more. "Do you know what?" she said. "It'd be better if you boys who take it started wearing skirts or dresses. It'd be a lot less fuss that way, and it'd be easier to see which of you was really willing."

Jim's nerves suddenly failed him. "No!" he shouted, pulling his trousers back up. "This is all wrong! I'm not doing this!"

Kirsty frowned. "You fucking little tease!" she sneered. "Sharon was right about you, she said you wouldn't do it!"

"No!" he shouted, fastening his flies with shaking hands. "I won't. I can't."

"You'd have been happy enough to do it to me," Kirsty protested, the huge Extender bobbing in front of her. "What's sauce for the goose is sauce for the gander!"

"No," he said once more, lifting himself off the wall, and beginning to stagger down out of the alley. "No, I don't want it like this!"

"Bastard!" she shouted at his retreating back. "You fucking bastard. You said you were game for it, and now you're chickening out! No girl's ever going to want to shag you unless you learn to take it you know! It's equality, that's what it is!"

"I'll be all right," Jim muttered quietly, as he began to run. "You'd have to be a poof to let a girl do that to you!"

"It's you that's the fucking poof!" she screamed after him. Then her face turned from sneer to evil smile. "And I'll make sure everyone in this town knows it!"
Jim ran away from his tormentor with tears in his eyes, and round the corner of the alley. He didn't stop until he reached the now nearly empty High Street.

 

SCENE FIVE

 

Brad tried to hold himself back, but he couldn't. Molly's coaxing fingers stroked the small of his back, and pressed his buttocks to urge him forward. He tried to think of other things, but couldn't. Nature took over, and he came. Molly's hands fluttered across his back in congratulations, and she squeezed him with her legs in triumph. He let his head fall onto her shoulder in resignation. He hated this.

He had tried to avoid sex recently. Molly was getting just too demanding. That bloody Extender thing made him sore! He knew he was supposed to enjoy having the area between his balls and his arse massaged, and he knew that the new Mark Five had a softened pad on its head to make the massage more user friendly, as it said on the packet. But the force that Molly used made it less of a massage, and more of a battering. She said she had to press hard to get the right effect, but he felt like a punch bag when she used him these days, and was constantly bruised between his legs.

Then came the words he had been dreading since she brought him upstairs. "My turn now!" she whispered in his ear. He sighed to himself. He had to do this, however much it hurt. He loved Molly, he really did, but he wished she could moderate these urges of hers. Still, she had taken him out that night and bought him a lovely meal, together with a bottle of wine. If he could bare it for the three or four minutes it normally took, then they could have a nice cuddle, and fall asleep in each other's arms. Three or four minutes if she stuck to one, he reminded himself.

He lifted himself off her, and slipped over to one side, laying himself face down on the bed, opening his legs wide to allow her access to the area she craved. She laughed. "Aw not like that darling!" she said, leaning over to find the cursed Extender from the side of the bed. "I want you the other way up!"

"It hurts like that," he whined. "Take me this way."

She laughed once more, inserting the device into herself. "No," she said, leaning over and kissing his ear. "I want to be able to see your face when I'm doing it."

He sighed once more. "Please Molly," he said. "It's better this way."

"We did it that way last night!" she said, stroking his shoulders.

"No we didn't!" he reminded her. "You came in from the front then as well!"

She laughed. "Well the night before then. Come on, I like it from the front!"

This was what he hated about sex these days, the demands she made on him.

"I tell you what," she said, whispering playfully in his ear once more. "Let me come in from the front, and I'll buy you that shirt you liked!"

His eyes opened. They had been shopping that afternoon, and he had seen a nice purple silk shirt that he had really wanted. It cost far too much though, he knew that, more than they could afford, even on Molly's salary. Still, it was a nice shirt.

"And if you let me tonight, I'll come in from the back tomorrow," she coaxed, kissing his shoulder gently.

He sighed. "All right," he said at last, turning himself over. "But be gentle!"

"I'm always gentle!" she protested. He felt the tip of the Extender brush against his thigh as he rolled over onto his back. She grinned in triumph as he lifted his knees apart, ready to receive her. She climbed between them, and placed her arms on either side of his head, grinning down at him. "You're so good to me!" she exclaimed, as she lowered herself to kiss him.

Then he felt it. The padded tip of the Extender knocked into his balls, and he shuffled forward, trying to get it to the right place. Molly put her hand down between his legs to guide it, stroking him as she did so. He shut his eyes, and prayed that it would be over quickly. She thrust forward, slowly and gently at first. She always started like this, with the best of intentions, but once the friction from the Extender did its magic on her body, she lost control, and hurled the thing forwards at him with no regard for his sensitivities.

"I love you Brad," she hissed, as she pushed herself forward again, and then retracted. She always said that. It was the last thing she said before she lost herself in a well of lust and passion, and the first thing she said when she emerged from that same well.

Brad gritted his teeth as Molly got more into it, lunging herself forward at every stroke, trying to bury the tip of the Extender into him. She grunted to herself, and sucked in a lungful of air. Not long now, he hoped. Then the tip slipped forward, and her next stroke bashed into his scrotum. He winced in pain. "Just a minute," he whispered, trying to lift himself further upwards. "It's hurting."
"It wouldn't hurt so much if you didn't keep shuffling about!" she muttered in irritation. Her eyes were wild with her passion, as she glared down at him, angry at the interruption.

"I'm sorry," he muttered. "But it really did hurt."

"Just keep still will you? It puts me off my rhythm."

Satisfied with his position, he gently pulled on her shoulders to let her know she could resume. She surged forward with renewed passion, and the Extender found its proper mark. He held himself rigid, although it meant his hips were barely on the bed, holding himself up with the muscles on his back, and trying to provide her with an easy target. She did not miss as she thrust forward again, and again and again against him. She became frantic in her movements now, grunting and gasping for air as she arched her back above him, barely noticing he was there. She had said she wanted to see his face while she was doing this, he recalled, but she didn't even open her eyes. He could have been anyone lying there beneath her.

She shouted out wordlessly, thrust further against him, pressing the tip of the Extender into his soft flesh, and then screamed, and fell against him. It was over, thank God. She prodded him a few more times as the spasms echoed around her body, groaning as they did so. The tip slipped once more, and caught his vulnerable testicles. He winced, but tried not to cry out. It seemed to make her so cross when he did!

"Oh that was just so good!" she spluttered at last from his shoulder where her head had fallen. "Just so fucking good! I love you Brad!"

She lifted her head around, and placed her mouth on his, thrusting her tongue deep inside. Thank God it was over, he thought to himself again, as he let her explore the recesses of his mouth. And tomorrow she had said she'd come in from the back, he'd hold her to that if he could. She kissed his cheek, and then his ear. "You're so good to me Brad," she whispered once more. When she wasn't using him, she could be so gentle and kind. He loved her for that.

She lifted herself up above him once more, and smiled into his face, leaning forward and kissing the tip of his nose. "I think you've earned that shirt you know," she said, smiling. "And it'll look good on you."

He smiled back. Yes it would. The shirt would look very nice on him indeed. He stroked her arms lovingly. For all that she was ten years older than him, and had a much better paid job, she did seem to love him. "I love you Molly!" he said, rather desperately. She laughed.

"I know you do honey!" she replied, kissing his nose once more. "I know you do!"

He felt happy, and waited for her to dismount so that they could snuggle into each other's arms. She was taking her time about it today. He closed his eyes, relishing the closeness of her, his gentle loving lover.

Then he felt it again, the tip of the Extender began to move once more. He opened his eyes in alarm, but hers were already shut. Oh God no! She was going to go for seconds, and he already felt so sore!

 

SCENE SIX

 

Terri knew that there was something wrong with Alison as soon as she got home from school. She knew her daughter well. The girl came in and threw her book bag onto the kitchen table in a fit of anger, and stomped off upstairs. Terri sighed. Alison was barely twelve, but that was no guarantee against teenage tantrums and moods. There had been a number of them lately, and a couple of weekends before, they had gone off together to buy Alison's first bra. The storekeeper had told Terri off in no uncertain terms. She had left it a good three months too late! Didn't she care about her daughter's development, the storekeeper had asked accusingly? Well of course she cared, and she had a good idea what this latest mood swing was likely to be about as well.

Making sure that the dinner would be safe from harm in the absence of supervision, she sighed to herself to try and find some inner strength, and climbed the stairs to her daughter's bedroom. It had a picture of Alison's current favourite boy band on it, and another notice that said 'Keep Out' in menacingly large red letters. Shaking her head, Terri knocked on the door.
"Go away!" Alison's tearful voice shouted from inside. "I don't want to talk to anyone!"

"It's me, " Terri announced somewhat unnecessarily. "Come on, let's talk."

There was a pause, and then the shuffle of mournful feet as Alison came over to the door, and pulled back the bolt. Terri looked at her framed in the doorway, her hair a mess, and tears streaking down her face. "Oh my poor baby!" she said, and grabbed her daughter and hugged her.

Alison sobbed, and Terri waited until the tears subsided. Then she gently led her over to the bed, unmade as usual from the morning, and sat her down on it. "Do you want to tell me what the matter is?" she asked.

Alison hesitated, and then, after blowing her nose loudly into the damp tissue she was holding, nodded vigorously. "I started bleeding today!" she exclaimed. Terri hugged her again.

"Well we talked about that didn't we? You had the things with you?" Alison nodded. "And a spare pair of panties?" The girl nodded again.

"Yes, I was prepared like you said," she told her mother. "But Billy Westerman saw me, and laughed about it!"

"Oh dear," Terri responded. "Boys can be a bit insensitive about this sort of thing." Alison nodded again. "More than a bit!" she went on. "He told all his friends about it, and they followed me around all day giggling." Terri shook her head. She remembered her first period, and the mixed emotions she had had at the time.

"Well they're jealous," she told her daughter soothingly.

"Jealous? It's hardly something to be jealous about!" Alison snapped.

Terri laughed. "Oh I don't know about that darling. It means you're a woman now."
"What? And they want to be women?"

Terri laughed again. "No, not that. But they're not men yet are they? They're jealous because you're all grown up, and they're still babies!"

Alison smiled. "Yes, I suppose they are. Especially Billy Westerman. He's a real baby."

"Of course they are!" her mother confirmed, and the two of them sat on the bed, grinning at each other in sure and certain knowledge of superiority.

"It is a bit of a pain, though," Alison confessed. "Bleeding every month! I wish we didn't have to do it."

"We all wish that," her mother told her. Then a thoughtful look came over her face. "There are compensations though." She hesitated for a moment, and then stood up.

"Where are you going?" Alison asked.
"I'm just going to get something," Terri replied. "I won't be a second." She walked out of the door, and across the corridor to her own bedroom. She sat herself on the big bed she shared with Alison's father, and opened the drawer on the cabinet on her side of the bed. She looked at the Extender she had used the night before, and smiled to herself. Yes, there were compensations. Pushing this to one side she found the box she was looking for, and picked it up, taking it back into Alison's room.

"Here," she said, handing it over to her. "Now you're a woman, you'll be needing one of these."

"What is it?" Alison asked, looking at the long white package.

"It says what it is on the bottom," Terri told her.

Alison looked wide-eyed at her mother, and then turned the package upside down to read the label. "Oh my God Mum!" she exclaimed. "A mark seven!"

Terri smiled. "Yes. They're better than the mark six. They're a bit longer, and you can hold them in easier."

Alison looked up at her Mum open mouthed. "Oh Mum, thank you! My own Extender!" she gasped.

"That's all right," Terri replied, a little embarrassed. "You deserve it. It's every woman's right, and you're a woman now."

 

SCENE SEVEN

 

Todd got home from school, and threw his bag onto the coat stand behind the door. He could smell the evening meal cooking from down the corridor. Dinner was going to be on time today. Good, he was going out tonight; going out with John to see if they could get some girls.

"Come in here Todd!" he heard his mother calling from the kitchen. He winced at the tone of her voice. It sounded like trouble. He really wanted to go and have a quick shower before dinner so that he was ahead of schedule for going out that evening. "Come on!" she shouted once more.

Todd sighed to himself, and walked dismally down the corridor towards the kitchen. His mother was there by the sink, preparing vegetables. She looked at him in the doorway, and wiped her hands on a tea towel.

"What?" he asked her petulantly.

She didn't reply, but went over to the sideboard, and opened a drawer. She pulled out a piece of white cloth with blue flowers on it. Todd recognised it instantly, and the blood rushed to his cheeks. "I found this in your bedroom when I was tidying up," his mother said, her eyes fixed inquisitorially on him. "What have you got to say for yourself?"

There was a lump in his throat. He thought he had hidden it well enough to avoid discovery. He breathed deeply, to try and steady himself and his voice. "It's a skirt," he muttered.

"I can see what it is!" she shouted, holding it up at arms length in front of her. "I can see it's a skirt! I want to know what it was doing in your room!"

Oh God, now I'm for it, though Todd. He had only bought the skirt on Saturday, when he had gone down into town with John. There was a new shop there that had just got a stock in of skirts for boys, and as soon as they had saved enough money, they had gone straight there. Todd felt his cheeks burning. There was only one thing for it; he had to brave it out. He shrugged as nonchalantly as he could. "It's mine. I bought it on Saturday!"

"You bought yourself a skirt!" his mother screamed once more.

He knew his parents would react like this. They were just so old fashioned it was untrue. They still liked to pretend that men did the chasing, and women did the running away, like it was when they were young. Well things were different now. If you wanted a girl, you had to show yourself willing.

"No son of mine is going to wear a skirt!" his Mum declared with some vigour.

"Oh but Mum!" he protested, getting over the initial shock of discovery by now. "Everyone wears them now. It's no big deal!"

She glared at him. "Maybe in London, but not here!"

"But they look really good. And the girls like them!" he protested

Her eyes widened. "I've read the papers! I know what it means when a boy wears a skirt, especially one as short as this!" She brandished the offending garment at him once more. He winced. She was right of course. Wearing a skirt meant you were up for it, as they said, and that made girls a whole lot more interested in you.

"I don't know what you mean," he stammered. "Girls just think they look nice."

"Oh I'm sure they do! Showing off your legs and a whole lot more!" Her face softened for a moment. "Look Todd, I know it's hard, but no girl's ever going to respect you if you wear something like this."

He frowned. "What do you mean?"

She sighed, and sat herself down. "I'm not stupid Todd. I know things have changed since I was young." Todd doubted this statement, but didn't challenge it. "I know girls are more," she hesitated. "Well, more forward than they used to be."

"Not all of them Mum," he said, coming to join her at the table. "Some of them are nice."

She flashed him a glance. "Well nice girls would understand if you said no!"

He stared back at her. "But Mum, they just ignore you if they think you can't take it!" Oops, he thought to himself. He shouldn't have used that phrase to her. She blinked a couple of times, and sighed once more.

"I just can't bare the thought of them rubbing themselves against my poor baby!" she wailed. There were tears in her eyes. He put his arm across the table, and stroked her arm.

"It's not like that Mum," he whispered.

"Then what is it like?" she demanded.

He grimaced again. "Well you don't have to let them do it," he said quickly. "Not unless you want to. But it makes them think you might, and then they treat you a whole lot nicer."

She sighed once more. "I would have thought they'd prefer a boy who knew the meaning of the word 'no'."
"I know what 'no' means," he said with a hint of defiance. "I'm not a," he hesitated. His mother wouldn't know that word, he decided. "Well I'm not the wrong sort of boy."

"You mean a post." She had said it for him. His mouth fell open. His Mum really had been reading the papers! "Oh I know what it means," she went on. "Posts are really popular aren't they? They just stand there and let any girl who wants to rub herself against them. I know what a post is Todd."

"Well I'm not a post," he muttered.

"I should think not." She sighed, and picked up the skirt once more. "Well this looks like the sort of skirt a post would wear," she said.

"Oh no Mum!" he protested. "Not at all! Posts always wear black!"

She glared at him once more. He was right. She had read that in the papers. Posts did wear black skirts; that's how you knew who they were in clubs apparently. They normally got in free, and were taken off to the girls' cloakroom as soon as they arrived. At least Todd's skirt wasn't black. She fingered the flimsy material in her hands, and looked at the floral patterns. Todd had some taste, if nothing else.

"I suppose you thought you could wear it to the youth club," she said, still looking at the skirt.

Todd blushed again. "Well," he began. "I was sort of hoping I might."

She sighed again. "I don't know what your father would think!"

"He doesn't know does he?" Todd asked anxiously, his eyes betraying his panic. She stared at him for a few moments, and then shook her head.

"No. I've not told him. He'd probably have a heart attack if I did."

Todd sighed in relief. "Thanks Mum."

"Don't thank me!" she snapped, and stood up. "I don't like deceiving him, and I don't like you deceiving me."

Todd's eyes followed her. "I haven't deceived you Mum!"

"So when were you going to tell me about this?" she demanded, holding the skirt out towards him. He turned his face away in shame.

"I don't know."
"No, nor do I!" There was a note of triumph in her voice. She paced around the kitchen, thinking about what she should do.

"Please Mum," he said softly, in a voice that penetrated her heart. "Let me wear it. I'll be careful, I promise!"

She sighed again. It was so difficult, this parenthood, and changing times made it ten times worse. Her mind went back to a similar scene from her own youth. She had secretly bought a boob tube when she was fourteen, just as Todd was now. Her Mum had been incandescent with fury, calling her a slut, and a prostitute, and all sorts of things. It had been one of the biggest rows they had ever had, certainly the first serious one. She bit her lip. Her Mum had died the year before, and memories of her face filled her mind for a moment. Todd's Grandma had given in about the boob tube eventually, she remembered, telling her she had to be careful, and how fashion wasn't that important, and how nice boys preferred you to keep yourself covered.

She looked at her son, sitting at the table, his face flushed, and biting his lip. "All right," she said suddenly, throwing the skirt at him. "You can wear it if you like, but don't let your father see you in it!"

There was astonishment in his face. He blinked twice. "Are you sure?" he gasped.

"Yes. Take it before I change my mind!"

Hesitantly, he picked up the garment, and then stood. He ran around the table and hugged her. "Thanks Mum!" he whispered in her ear as he kissed her cheek. "I'll change into it round at John's so Dad won't see!"

"I don't want to know!" she replied, smiling through her tears. He was a good boy really, and sensible. It was only clothes, after all, and this strange fashion would pass. "Now go on," she said, pushing him away. "I'm supposed to be making dinner."

The look on his face was reward enough. There was genuine delight on his face, as he ran out of the kitchen, clutching his skirt, and up the stairs to his bedroom. She shook her head at the folly of youth, and went back to the vegetables.

Todd shut the door to his room, and leant against it with his eyes shut. That was a close run thing. He hugged his precious skirt, the talisman that would make him attractive to the girls at the youth club at last, and smiled to himself. He walked across to his chest of drawers, and opened the top one, slipping it off his runners, and out. He put it quietly onto his bed, and reached into the dark space it had vacated.

No, she hadn't found them. He clutched the brown paper bag, and brought it out into the light, his eyes dancing with excitement. He glanced inside. Yes, they were still there. God, all that fuss about the skirt; what would she have said if she had seen these, the new split crotch panties he had bought to go with them?

 

SCENE EIGHT

 

Jordan reached across his chest, and played with her boyfriend's budding breasts. She stroked the firm mounds, and playfully ran her fingers across his dark protruding nipples. She smiled.

"Thanks for agreeing to share the breastfeeding with me," she said, kissing his ear. Share indeed, she thought to herself. He was going to do the lot if she had her way! No way was she going to let having a baby interfere with her social life!

"It's all right," he replied sleepily. God, he was so pretty! She pushed his hair behind his ear, and kissed his cheeks. "It's just a pity we have to wait so long!" They were on the waiting list for pregnancy, but they had another four months to go! The health service was falling apart, no doubt about that. Her mother had only had to wait three weeks!

He smiled dreamily, and looked up at her adoringly. He was so trusting, that was another thing she loved about him! Mind you, she thought, if they could wait another year or so, he could carry the baby as well! She had read that in a magazine. Male pregnancy would be a reality in a year or so, and that would be excellent. He was so much more suited to motherhood than she was, they both knew that.

He frowned a little, creases forming on his face. He wanted to say something, but was too shy to do it. She knew him well. He used that look when he wanted a new dress, or a pair of shoes. She wondered what frippery he could possibly want now.

"Jordan?" he said, biting his lip, and stroking her shoulders.

"Yes?" she replied indulgently. God, he cost her a fortune already, but he was worth it.

"Jordan," he repeated softly. "Maybe we don't have to wait that long."

She was startled. What was he talking about? He saw the confusion on her face, and continued. "Well maybe we don't have to wait for the hospital for the pregnancy thing." He paused, biting his lip once more. She smiled at him and raised her eyebrows.

"What do you mean honey?" she asked, playing with his nipples once more.

He shuffled uneasily. "Well there may be another way you could get pregnant."

She stopped, and sighed. "We can't afford to go private," she told him. "I just haven't got the money, I wish I had. I know you want a baby of your own, darling, but we'll just have to be patient!"

He pulled a face, and she bent down to kiss his forehead. "No," he insisted in his soft little voice. "I don't mean that. But I was reading that in the old days, you could do it differently."

"Differently?"

He nodded nervously. "Yes," he said, almost breathless. "Apparently a long time ago, boys could get women pregnant without having to go to the hospital." He stared at her anxiously, waiting for her response. She had heard something about this as well, a long time ago in school. She and her friends had giggled about it, like some implausible joke. Apparently if you let a boy put his little thing inside where your Extender goes, you could get pregnant!

She looked at him aghast. He was always really passive in bed, and this kinky suggestion was totally out of character. Out of character, but perhaps interesting! She looked at him once more. "Tell me more," she said, teasingly. He pulled a face, and she laughed. He could be so coy sometimes. He looked away.
"It doesn't matter," he said.

"It does," she insisted. "Tell me what you had in mind."

She could see the colour rising in his cheeks. "Well," he began, hesitantly. "You know my penis?"

She shook her head, straining to restrain her laughter. She knew fully well what his penis was, but it was much more fun to pretend she didn't. He sighed. "It's that little thing that hangs down on my front, you must have seen it." She shook her head once more, amused at the tension this seemed to cause him.

"Show me," she suggested.

He looked away. "No," he whispered.

"Go on," she coaxed. "This could be interesting!"

He looked at her nervously, and pushed the bedclothes down off his legs. He had such lovely legs, she thought, as they came into view; nice and smooth and long. He looked nervously at her once more, and lifted the hem of his nightie, revealing his pretty pastel panties. She smiled at the sight of them.

Breathing hard, he slipped them down, and revealed himself to her. He picked up his cute little penis, and lifted it up a little. "This is my penis," he told her shyly.

"Oh is that what it's called?" she exclaimed. "It's sweet!" She put her hand down onto his, and stroked the little thing. He pushed her hand away.

"No," he said. "Don't do that!"

"But it's pretty!" she protested.

He looked pained for a moment. "Please Jordan, I'm trying to be serious!"

She laughed, and kissed him again. "All right, I'm sorry. Tell me what you were going to say."
He sighed, and fluttered his eyelashes fetchingly. She nearly kissed him again. He was so cute when he was trying to be serious. "Well," he began hesitantly. "I read that if we used my penis, you could get pregnant."

She smiled to herself, and shook her head in mock wonder. "How?" she gasped, as if in amazement, meeting his stare. He looked excruciated by having to discuss such matters.

"Well," he began nervously again. "If we put it in," he hesitated, and breathed deeply. "In where your Extender goes, I think it works like that."

She blinked a couple of times. He had obviously heard the same playground stories as her. "Are you sure?" she asked him, stroking his nipples idly once more. He nodded.

"I think so. We could perhaps give it a go anyway."

She smiled, and bent down to place his nipple in her mouth, teasing it gently with her tongue. He breathed deeply as she did so, and she felt an urge to take him once more. She resisted it, however. This kinky suggestion of his was fun; it was turning her on, and she wanted to try it.

She lifted herself off him. "Well," she said, musing. "It sounds a bit kinky doesn't it?"

He visibly blushed once more, and looked away from her. "Well if you don't think we should."

"I didn't say that. I just said it sounded a bit kinky." She grinned, and looked at him squirming in embarrassment next to her. "Okay," she said slowly. "Shall we give it a go then?"

He pouted, and shrugged. "I don't know," he whimpered. She smiled, and reaching down, began to pull out her extender slowly. It finally came free, and she put it on the bedside cabinet. She looked down at him, as his big eyes looked anxiously up at her. She felt strange without her Extender, especially in bed. Strange and somehow unwomaned. Still, experimentation kept a relationship alive.

"Now what?" she asked him.

"Well," he said, looking anxiously around. "Perhaps I should get on top of you?"

She laughed. "Now that is kinky!" she exclaimed. "Okay, let's give it a go!" She turned over and lay on her back, while he tentatively lifted himself up and looked down at her. He bit his lip once more as he hesitated. "What?" she asked, stroking his hair away from his face.

"I think you have to open your legs," he said. "You know, like I do for you."
She frowned as she thought about this. This was really kinky, beyond kinky even! God, she didn't know he had it in him! He always seemed so prim and proper, especially in bed, and now he was suggesting this! "All right," she said uncertainly, and lifted her knees apart into an unaccustomed position.

He shuffled himself around between her legs, and then moved himself forward, placing his arms on either side of her for support. Wow, he was behaving just like a woman for God's sake! This felt really weird. But that was as nothing to the feelings that came over her next. His little penis had become hard. She had noticed it doing that once or twice before, when she was kissing his nipples, or just after she had shagged him, but this was different. It was doing it almost of its own accord, as if he had proper sexual urges like a woman!

Then it began brushing against her, searching for its target, just like an Extender! He closed his eyes, and used his hips to move it, like he was a woman, and she was his man! Abruptly she pushed him off her, and pulled her legs together. There was kinky, and there was too kinky, and this definitely fell into the latter category. "No," she said. "I don't like the feel of that."
"I'm sorry," he whimpered. "It was just an idea."

"Yes," she told him. "Don't worry. It was worth a try. You'll just have to wait a little longer for your baby. That's too perverted for me, and it probably wouldn't work anyway."

"Yes," he agreed. "Sorry, I shouldn't have mentioned it."

There were tears glistening in his eyes, and she held him for a moment and kissed him. "It's all right honey," she assured him. "I know you want a baby so badly. I do too."

He nodded in her arms, as he sniffed his tears away. He was so gorgeous, so beautiful! She reached her hand out sideways, and found her Extender once more. She pushed him away for a moment, and reinserted it, feeling at once more powerful and complete. He blinked anxiously at her as she did so, and, seeing the look on her face, lay down onto the bed, and slipped his panties off his legs. He was such a good boy, anticipating her needs.

She climbed on top of him, and the tip of the Extender found its mark without delay, not like his silly little penis! The sensations burst from the device into her clitoris, and then around her body. She thrust herself forward to amplify the ecstasy. God, she would never take it off in bed again! It was a part of her body and a part of her soul.

  

  

  

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