Free Varian Krylov by Hurt Page A

you a toy."
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    The idea, the feel of his lips brushing faintly against her lobe as he spoke, the feel of his hands sliding over her shoulder and down to her arms, everything had her feeling vaguely drunk. Hot and soft, unsteady.
    "But first, I want you to take me around the store and tell me which toys you've used, with who, and how you liked them."
    Clearly Mr. Galen Ross had not yet gleaned that she wasn't . . . whatever . . .
    whoever would have tall tales to tell about an assortment of objects to be found there.
    Or maybe he had. Maybe the point was to make her blush and squirm and stutter as she confessed her innocence, or attempted to cover it up with thinly woven fabrications about a more illustrious sexual history.
    "Well, it's going to be a short tour."
    "Is it?"
    He sounded aroused. Through the center of her body a cord of rousing tension felt like it had just been pulled slowly, taut. Feeling a tad ridiculous, she led him around as she glanced over the various articles until she saw something that looked . . .
    intimately familiar. Taking the sample item from the shelf to which it was tethered by a piece of shoplifter-proof nylon cord, she held up for Galen's amusement what was probably the most ordinary item in the entire store: a plain old vibrator of modest size and beige color.
    He raised one eyebrow, grinned, and waited for the story. She smiled, blushed for some reason, and narrated her relationship with the doppelganger of the off-white plastic rocket in her hand.
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    "Right. After . . . guy number one, when I was single for a while, I bought a book on masturbating, and orgasms, and . . . inspired by something in that book, I bought a vibrator. I used it off and on for a while. It never had the . . . effect I was going for, and after a while I reverted to my usual M.O."
    "Which is what?"
    Funny how embarrassing the idea of answering that question seemed. Everyone does it, right? And she'd slept with the guy. But still. . . . She looked around, checking to see if anyone was listening to their conversation. None of the six or seven people in the store seemed to have the least interest in them.
    "I just . . . use my hand."
    "How?"
    "Just . . . over my panties."
    "And?"
    "I just massage myself. Rub my clit."
    "You don't put your fingers inside yourself?"
    She'd tried that a few times, but really, it hadn't done much for her.
    "No."
    "What about the wax job? I thought you said you did that because you liked the feeling of your soft, bare skin when you touched yourself."
    "I . . ."
    Fuck. She hadn't meant to lie. It was true, about touching herself over her panties. That's how she always started. She looked furtively around. It was just so embarrassing, talking like this, here in public.
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    "After a while," she said, lowering her voice even from the whisper she'd been using, "when I'm close, I go under my panties and touch myself."
    He put his hand to the back of her head, pulled her close, whispered in her ear,
    "dip your finger in, between your lips, into your wet cunt, and slide your finger over your clit, and get yourself off."
    Fuck. Damn. Her sex was pounding.
    "Yes."
    He let her go, playfully tugging a strand of her hair as he withdrew his hand, grinning at her mischievously. Sudden heat touched her cheeks. He was hard.
    Deliciously, obviously hard.
    "Any of your lovers use it on you?"
    "A few times. Yeah."
    Her voice probably told him clearly enough that she preferred the real deal to having a tapered hunk of vibrating plastic drilled into her by the guy she was with.
    "Ever use it on them?"
    "No," she answered softly, unsure what emotion it was making her feel suddenly giddy. Shock? Embarrassment? Arousal? Hell, Eric and Jason hadn't even liked having their nipples touched.
    "Well," he purred, "shall we move on?"
    "That's it, Mr. Ross. Tour's over."
    "Really? You're not just teasing me?"
    "Um . . . no."
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    "Well then, this is going to be fun." He roamed the room with his eyes. "So many