The doorbell rang softly. I looked up from behind the counter, and a young man entered the store, looking as if he had found himself here by accident.
He was perhaps twenty years old, with slightly messy dark hair and a face flushed not only from the cold but also from embarrassment. His hands were in the pockets of his sweatshirt, and his steps were uncertain, as if every inch of the store was burning his feet.
“Hi, can I help you with anything?” I asked calmly, smiling slightly.
“I... um... I mean...” he began, but the words got tangled in his mouth. “I'm looking for... a gift. For my girlfriend.”
“For his girlfriend.” Classic.
I raise an eyebrow but nod my head as if it were the most natural answer in the world.
“Sure. For your girlfriend,” I repeat slowly. “Is it more for fun... or, you know, for learning?”
He blushes even more, lowering his gaze.
“I don't know... I've never...” he mumbles under his breath, then takes a deep breath. “It's not for my girlfriend. It's for me.”
I don't pretend to be surprised. I've seen it before, the shame that bursts in an instant when someone finally tells the truth.
“For you,” I repeat quietly, as if it were a secret that only I have the right to hear. “And what exactly do you want to try?”
He swallows, looking everywhere but at me.
“My first time... anally,” he blurts out in one breath.
The silence between us thickens. He looks like he wants to run away, and I slowly take control of the situation, speaking in a calm, composed voice:
“Relax. We'll find something perfect. Something that will make you feel safe... and that will be enjoyable.”
I see his shoulders relax a millimeter. He's taken the first step.
Now the rest is up to me.
I lead him to the shelf with the smallest models.
“For starters, there’s no point in going for something big,” I said calmly, picking up a slender black dildo with a gently rounded tip. “The idea is to let your body get used to it slowly. It's not a race.”
The boy stared at it with wide eyes.
“That... that seems okay,” he muttered, nodding with exaggerated seriousness.
I also handed him a bottle of clear lube.
“You can’t go without this. Trust me.”
We went to the checkout. I could hear his breathing quicken as he took out his wallet.
I handed him the bag with his purchase, and our fingers brushed for a second, a small thing, but enough to make a familiar warmth appear in my stomach.
He stood still instead of leaving. He looked at me, then at the bag, then at me again.
As if he wanted to say something but didn't know how.
Finally, resigned, he blurted out the words that immediately thickened the air between us:
“Could you… show me how to use it?”
There was a moment of silence, only the hum of the demo vibrator in the background.
I took a step toward him, measuring him with a careful gaze.
“Okay,” I replied calmly. “But I need you to trust me. Come to the back room.”
He swallowed, nodded, and followed me.
I knew he had just crossed a line that could not be undone.
The light here was brighter, harsher, reflecting off the metal table and shelves full of new merchandise.
The boy stood still, holding the bag uncertainly, as if it would protect him from what was about to happen.
“To explain this to you properly, you need to completely relax,” I said in a calm, almost professional tone, even though my cock was throbbing in my pants.
“Take off your clothes.”
He froze, his face turning red.
Slowly, as if every movement weighed a ton, he unbuttoned his pants, then slid the fabric down. His boxers joined the pants, then he took off his T-shirt as well, leaving him naked, covering his cock with his hand.
“Turn around and lean against the table,” I ordered quietly. “Stick your hips out. That's it.”
He obeyed.
He stood in front of me, tense, his back and thigh muscles taut as strings.
I took out the dildo he had bought and a bottle of lubricant. There was a soft splash as the gel ran down the toy, and he shuddered at the sound.
“The tip first. Slowly,” I explained, placing the toy at his entrance.
He immediately gasped for air.
“Ahhh!” a moan escaped his lips.
“Calm down. Breathe. In through your nose, out through your mouth,” I said in a calm voice, guiding him with the rhythm.
Centimeter by centimeter, I moved the dildo, controlling the movement.
His breathing became more and more ragged, and his body slowly got used to the new stimulus.
“Mmmm... ohhh...” His moans filled the back room, mingling with my rapid breathing.
“That's it.” I praised him, holding his hips so he wouldn't pull back. “Your body is learning to open up. Just a moment more and you'll be ready for more.”
When I finally pulled the toy out, his thighs were trembling and sweat glistened on the back of his neck.
I knew this was just the beginning.
“Now we'll try something more natural,” I said, and he looked at me with a mixture of fear and curiosity.
“Now you take control,” I said in a calm but firm tone. “I'm just holding the toy. You decide how deep you go.”
I positioned the dildo upright, steady on the table.
He stood on the table in front of me, spreading his legs uncertainly, then slowly bent his knees.
His thighs were already trembling from the position alone.
“Breathe. As you exhale, lower yourself a little further,” I instructed, watching his face and the tense muscles of his abs.
When the tip touched his entrance, his body trembled violently and a short, loud moan escaped his lips:
“Ahhh!”
“Calm down. This is just the beginning.” I whispered, holding the toy still. “Breathe again. And slowly lower yourself.”
He lowered himself inch by inch.
“Aaahhh... mmmm... ohhh...” His moans became more and more desperate, his body tensing and then relaxing with each movement.
I had a perfect view of his buttocks and trembling thighs, of the beads of sweat running down his back.
“Good. That's it. Look how smoothly it goes in,” I said calmly, though inside I was boiling.
“A little more.”
Suddenly, he lowered himself deeper than before.
“Ahhh! Aaaahhh!” His voice turned into a muffled scream, his hands clenching my shoulders.
He was flushed, his hair stuck to his forehead, his breathing completely ragged.
“That's enough,” I whispered when I saw his legs start to shake. “Slowly up.”
He stood up, trembling, tossed the dildo and lube into the bag, then stepped aside, grabbing his boxers and pants.
“Thank you…” he mumbled, not meeting my eyes as he fled to the sales floor, and a moment later, the store door closed behind him with the sound of a bell.
I was left alone, in silence, with a throbbing cock and the image of his red, sweaty face before my eyes.
I knew that what had started as “professional help” was slowly becoming something I would no longer be able to stop.
If you enjoyed this story, consider supporting the author on Patreon.
To get in touch with the author, send them an email.
