The shift was calm, too calm. I was sitting behind the counter, browsing through a new toy catalog, when the doorbell rang softly. I looked up and immediately sensed that this was no ordinary customer.
In the doorway stood a guy wearing a baseball cap pulled so low it almost covered his eyes. A sporty hoodie, worn-out jeans, running shoes.
He looked like a typical straight guy, the kind who, under normal circumstances, would never set foot in here.
He lingered by the door, as if debating whether to run, avoiding my gaze as though just meeting my eyes could give away his secret.
I looked at him with feigned calm, though inside I felt a familiar thrill of excitement.
“Can I help you? Are you looking for something specific?” I asked with a professional, polite smile, as if we were in a bookstore and not a place full of sex toys.
“Um... well...” His voice was quiet, broken. “Maybe something... for me.”
He looked at the shelves, then at me, then back at the floor.
“My girlfriend... sometimes she doesn't feel like it. Or she doesn't have time.”
Ah, the classic excuse.
I smiled to myself and nodded understandingly.
“Sure. In that case, come this way.” I led him to the masturbator section, then reached for the top shelf.
I pulled out a realistic artificial butt, heavy, perfectly modeled, obscenely real.
I lifted it slowly, turning it in my hands so that the customer could see every detail.
“This is our bestseller,” I said in a calm but slightly sensual tone. “The skin is like the real thing. Just add a little lube and... you can feel exactly what you're missing.”
The boy snorted nervously and his face turned beet red.
But his eyes... they sparkled.
Not like someone who was disgusted, but like someone who was already imagining what he could do with it.
I lifted the artificial butt higher, turning it in my hands like something that required focus and respect. In the fluorescent light, it looked almost obscenely real.
“Look here,” I said, running my finger over the narrow opening in a calm, almost hypnotic tone. “The entrance is tight and springy. Start slowly... just touch it, let it accept you. And then you can speed up when you want more.”
The boy stood next to me, mesmerized. His breathing quickened, and I noticed a clear tent in his jeans.
He pretended it was nothing, turning sideways and covering himself with a bag from the display, but his body betrayed everything.
I could feel the atmosphere thickening, as if the smell of desire and shame hung in the air.
“I think... I'll take it,” he blurted out suddenly, as if he wanted to end this torture as quickly as possible. “And... that lube. The best you have.”
I smiled and put the product on the counter.
While I was packing everything into the bag, he pulled out his card and paid.
When I handed him the bag, our fingers brushed lightly.
In that brief touch, I felt his hand tremble slightly, whether from nerves or excitement, I wasn't sure.
I thought it was over, that he would leave soon and I would be left alone with this strange tension.
But he... stood there.
As if glued to the spot.
He looked at me, then at the bag, then at me again, opening his mouth and then closing it.
Finally, he blurted out a sentence that completely changed the situation:
“Um... could you... show me how to... well, use it? So I don't screw something up.”
His face was red as a beet, his voice quiet, almost pleading.
At that moment, I knew that the day was not over yet.
“Come with me,” I said calmly, as if inviting him to a regular training session.
He followed me to the back room, walking stiffly, as if every step were a struggle for him.
I placed the fake ass on the metal table and turned to him with a professional smile.
“First, preparation,” I began, reaching for the bottle of lubricant. “It's like training, you have to be relaxed and ready.”
I slowly unscrewed the cap and squeezed out the clear gel, letting him see every movement of my fingers.
A slippery sound filled the room.
“Slowly at first...” I said in a low, calm voice, spreading the lube on the opening of the fake ass. “Just the tip. The body has to get used to the contact. And then deeper... when you feel like you want more.”
I felt my voice getting lower and lower, more provocative.
He watched, mesmerized, his breathing quickening with every second.
I glanced down, his cock was already clearly hard in his jeans, the fabric stretched tight.
“It's your product,” I said, looking him straight in the eye with a slightly sensual smile. “You can use it however you want. I'll just... show you how to do it right.”
He couldn't take it anymore.
With trembling fingers, he began to unzip his fly.
The metallic sound of the zipper sounded like a preview of what was to come.
His pants fell to the floor, then his boxers, and suddenly he was standing in front of me naked from the waist down, red with embarrassment, but so excited that he was shaking with nerves.
I knew that from that moment on, I was in control.
He stood in front of the table, naked from the waist down, his cock hard, tense, and trembling with every breath.
“Slowly,” I said quietly, almost in a whisper, standing right behind him. “This isn't a sprint. Start at the very tip.”
He rested his hands on the metal tabletop and slid uncertainly into the fake ass.
At first, his movements were clumsy, as if he was afraid of doing something wrong.
“Ahhh...” A broken moan escaped his lips when he felt resistance.
“Relax.” My voice was calm, almost hypnotic. “Breathe. Slower... yes. Now deeper.”
I watched as his body began to surrender to the rhythm.
His back muscles tensed with each movement, and his thighs trembled more and more.
I was so close that I could feel the warmth of his skin and the smell of sweat mixed with the scent of lubricant.
“I want to hear your body working,” I whispered in his ear.
When he made another move, I placed my hand on his back, gently, reassuringly.
He looked at me over his shoulder, his eyes shining with shame and excitement.
Then I moved my hand lower, down to his buttocks, and pushed him forward firmly.
“Come on,” I growled under my breath. “Go deeper. Fill it up.”
“Ahhh! Mmmm... ahhh!” he moaned louder and louder, completely losing control.
He fucked the fake ass faster and faster, as if he had forgotten that I was standing next to him.
I stood calmly, watching him surrender to my words, pretending it was still just a “technical demonstration.”
His hips began to move chaotically until suddenly his body arched in a spasm of pleasure and he came. He was sweaty, his cheeks red, his hair stuck to his forehead.
I handed him some tissues in a neutral, cool tone:
“The product works, doesn't it?”
He nodded, avoiding my gaze, and began to dress hurriedly.
“Thanks... I... I have to go.” He almost ran out of the back room, and a moment later the store door closed with a loud bell.
I was left alone.
I looked at the table where the artificial butt had been just a moment ago.
My hands were sticky with lubricant, and my own cock was rock hard.
The words I had spoken echoed in my head over and over again: “Go deeper.”
I knew it was only a matter of time before I wanted someone alive underneath me.
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