The Real Thing By Dchatterly ?1999
1 It was August the twelfth, 6 days before my wedding day. I sat with Tom, my best friend and soon to be best man. He inquired as to what arrangements could be made for my bachelor party. But I was unsure, telling him it wasn't important to me. We had been sat sipping beer for the most part of the afternoon.
"So how's your sex life with Jane then?" he asked. "You know Alan," his eyes raised in an almost caricature manner, "she really is very hot - really."
Jane was my fianc?e, and he was correct in his observation; she was `hot'. I had known her at that point for only four months, but from the first moment I saw her I knew I wanted her as my wife. We were introduced to each other at a Church fete that I was forced to attend by my community-spirited parents. I had spotted her before our introduction, watching over a stall that sold clothes for some greedy charity. Despite her choice of clothing on that day were far from flattering - but perfect for a church event - I could see she possessed a slender yet curved body, carefully concealed. And her apparent shyness upon meeting furthered my interest. Her sidelong glances bolstering my own confidence, which is normally my downfall in these situations. Her ****** had recently moved into the area and had become friends with my parents through `churchy' activities. Our meeting started with a simple handshake but the day ended with me attempting clumsily to ask her out on a date - which to my surprise she accepted.
"Well, we haven't gone all the way, " I told him with slight hesitation brought on by how personal the conversation was becoming. "I thought I would leave that until after the wedding." To be truthful, this hadn't been through choice - both of us came from very religious families and during out short courtship had never gotten the opportunity to try out what normal young couples take for granted. "We've done a lot of other stuff though," I lied, trying to regain some credibility in the `macho' stakes. He smiled, as if waiting for all the details, but I sipped on a beer in silence.
Tom had a different perspective of things; although we had grown up together, he'd went off to college whilst I'd opted to go into the ****** business of selling lawnmowers. Throughout our childhood we had shared about everything there is to share and had been as close as any two boys could be all from an early age. I was devastated when our paths ran different courses
The times when Tom came home from college his conversation was constantly about the girls he bedded and the wild parties he'd graced with his precence. He'd changed; whilst I had remained quite innocent when it came to all the subjects he preferred broadcasting about. Still we remained friends - good friends - I looked up to his worldly-wise attitude and envied his countless stories of women and more women.
"So you're going to wait until the big night then?" Tom proceeded to ask, unperturbed by my choice to remain silent. I wasn't sure if it was a statement or a question. "Think you'll be up to it?" Well that was a question, but I continued to sip my bottle of beer and refrain from a retort. "Come on now Alan," he went on. "We both know that the only time you've ever done it was with that tart at your 21st. Now that was 2 years ago." Tom was correct; my first and only time had been at my 21st Birthday party with a well-known local girl - and she wasn't well known for her good manners.
"Yea maybe so," I replied. "But what's that got to do with it."
"Well don't you think that maybe your lack of practice will be pretty obvious?"
"I don't think that matters Tom. We can't all be as well traveled as you." I looked at him distastefully. "Don't worry about me."
"Ah but I do Alan," he gave me a huge smile. "I have your best interests at heart."
I gave him a look that screamed `shut up' and opened another bottle of beer.
"Well if you don't want to talk about it then never mind."
"What exactly are you saying then Tom?" I said, suddenly interested in what pearls of wisdom he may have to offer.
"Put it this way, " he replied. "Do you wank a lot?"
This wasn't a conversation I would normally wish to continue; I put it down to the effects of the alcohol and my own nervousness about the week ahead that I chose to humor him.
"A few times a week I guess." I laughed to conceal embarrassment and lighten the response.
"Come on Alan, don't get embarrassed," He had seen through my nervous laugh. "Hey I wank all the time. I am the world's number one wanker. What else are hands for?"
My laugh this time was more confident. "I've known that for years Tom."
"So how long does it normally take you to cum when you do it?"
"For fucks sake Tom, shut up."
"No come on, tell me, I'm trying to give you some advice here."
I did wonder exactly what kind of advice he was trying to impart. "What do you mean?"
"Do you go in for a quick-finger-fumble, or do you make it a bit more exotic than that?"
"I try not let it rule my life," I told him.
"So it's just a routine get-it-out-of-the-way kind of thing then?"
"I guess it is. A few minutes, a few tugs and hell, Bob's your uncle."
"Well there's your first problem mate."
"Please get to your point here Tom." I said. "What in hell are you on about?"
"Right, " he sunk the remains of his latest beer bottle and laid it down at his feet. "If you're used to a quick wank then when it comes to having the real thing you'll be finished in a matter of seconds." He looked at me for a response. "You see sex is a bit more overwhelming than wanking. As soon as you enter that velvety cushion between her legs, it'll be too much for you to hold onto and you'll just let go, and Bob will be a very embarrassed uncle - if you get my drift"
I had to admit he did have a point. I had read in problem-pages of men suffering premature ejaculation, and my one and only encounter after turning 21 had been exceptionally brief - I had actually cum as soon as my over eager cock had touched that velvety area that Tom spoke of. I had put it down to being first time nerves and had never dwelled upon it - in fact it was one memory that was a favorite to draw upon when going through the short lived motion of pulling myself off behind the locked bathroom door or beneath the crusty sheets of my single bed.
"Yea well, " I felt I should offer some kind of response. "Let me worry about that when and if it happens." I smiled at him, dismissing the apprehension he was throwing my way.
"It will happen Alan, I can assure you of that."
"Well I've got six days to get it right and maybe prolong those wanks a bit." I tried to once again make light of what was rapidly becoming a somber analysis of a sex life that hadn't even begun yet. But admittedly, as we spoke, I was developing a nervousness inside that I knew was a result of a fear that I, and I'm sure many men, try to keep held in a subconscious area. I was always of the understanding that the more you thought about these things then the worse they became - anxiety breeding anxiety and all that.
"There's more to it than that Alan," he said, ignoring my attempt to alter the mood. "You'll never change what you've inadvertently trained your body to accept for all these years. Maybe if you had the next six days in bed with some understanding wench who didn't mind your ups and downs." He grinned and shook his head. "But those babes are hard to find, and what with your track record, I'm afraid, well." He cast his eyes downwards.
"I think Jane will be understanding and accept things as they are, if there is a problem. But I think I will be alright-on-the-night." I suppose I was trying to convince myself with this response, but the niggle was still ominously present.
"Yea mate, I'm sure Jane will be understanding, but as she's a bit short of experience herself, she'll never be able to help you sort it out. I guarantee it. You need to start as you mean to go on."
There was some sense in what he was saying, but it was hardly a topic I thought we should have been discussing, a bit more personal than I was used to. But the drink was taking effect. And yes, Jane was still a virgin - and here was I in charge of the responsibility to ensure she had a memorable first time. The pressure was well and truly on. Here was a guy I had always looked up to convincing me that I had a sexual related problem even before I had tried it out. Was he right? The question was reeling around my head.
A silence ensued around us, but the casual sipping of beer continued. "I want to get this right," I stated, wanting him now to offer me some potential solutions; seeing his offer of advice as at least a starting point in alleviating my growing disquietude.
"I can maybe help you out mate," he told me right on cue. "This might sound a bit weird, but keep with me." Once again he downed his latest bottle, a sure sign he was ready for a stream of words, hopefully helpful ones. He clasped both his hands out front. "Right, he began. "The problem is your lack of real sex. You have to get used to the feel of a cunt clamped around you." I was surprised by his phrasing of the words but continued to listen. "Once you're used to it, you'll have no problem whatsoever." He cleared his throat. "But we don't have any available females who would willingly serve as your practice doll, so." He paused..letting me wait, upping my curiosity. "Here's the solution; we get a doll and you do it with that as many times as required."
"What?" It's not that I hadn't heard or understood what he'd meant, but I felt it necessary to shout out `what'. What else could I shout?
"I've seen them before, my room mate when I was at college used to have one. It was very realistic. Seriously."
I couldn't disagree, it was a sound idea in theory, but in that instant I dismissed it as a bit extreme. I shook my head slowly. "I don't think so mate," I told him, "I couldn't shag a rubber doll - no way."
"Come on Alan, lots of guys use them, I can even get one for you; save you the embarrassment."
He gave me a serious look, which helped. I was half expecting him to bust out laughing, so I waited him out for a moment, tried a hysterical laugh myself then joined him with my own serious look. The look lingered; I laughed again then nodded very slowly. "Right then mate, you present me with the doll and I'll give it a try."
2 The next morning, my sore head kind of dulled the memory of my conversation with Tom. I awoke with an erection, and it was only when I began the process of pulling it up and down that I recalled my agreement with him to have a go with a rubber doll. As I curled my fingers tighter around my tool, the thought actually got me quite worked up. I had no idea why this was, but a few rapid tugs and I felt the hot flesh in my hand pulsate and let go a tiny torrent of fluid onto the underside of my duvet. Oh hell, I remembered; this was exactly why I was to use the doll - to stop this happening so damn quickly. I felt guilty, or maybe annoyed that, despite my conversation with Tom; I had started off so badly with my self-control. Roll on the doll, I thought, roll on the doll.
Tom didn't let me down either, that evening he visited me with a plain brown cardboard box under one arm. The usual pleasantries were swapped between us, the mysterious box, unopened, was abandoned on my bed.
It was me who broached the subject first. "So what's in the box?" He smiled brightly, I think glad that I had remembered. "Is that what we were talking about last night?"
"Told you I wouldn't let you down," he crooned. "So have you wanked today?"
"No," I lied. Truth was I had only knocked off the one, but I couldn't admit it now. Although tempted when I came home from work, I had curbed the craving and promised to save myself until I found out if Tom remembered his promise. He definitely had.
"Good man, `cause that's important." He gave me a wink. "So, do you want to meet her?"
I laughed out loud. "Do you really think this will work?" He never replied, just grabbed the box from the bed and opened the folded lid.
"Well get me a foot pump then," he called out before revealing the contents.
I busied myself under the bed, reaching to the far side where I kept my football pump.
"This is Mandy, apparently." Tom now said, looking at the flesh coloured item still half concealed by the box. "Maybe you shouldn't see her like this." He proceeded to stuff Mandy back in her box, looking at me with a sly smile. "Give me the pump and leave the room for a few minutes." He waited. "Go on then," he yelled.
I handed him the small foot-pump and exited my bedroom. The only place to go was the bathroom. I viewed my face in the brightly-lit mirror. The anticipation was profound; my heartbeat was significantly raised, but the strangeness of the situation didn't strike as I knew it should have. I knew I wouldn't be able to pee; my cock was rock hard.
A light-knock on the door and Tom's voice whispering through the crack; "Mandy's ready."
The bolt on the door snapped back loudly. I was face to face with Tom in the hallway outside. "Listen man, " I told him. "Do you think we could grab a few beers before I go back to the bedroom?"
"Sure mate," he responded, as any friend would or should in a situation such as.
I didn't bother telling my parents we were outward bound; thinking that seeing them would spoil the whole scenario. We lived in a large house, where, thankfully, I could come and go as I pleased without noise of my departure echoing into the midst of my mum and dads haunts.
The bar across the road was busy, even for a Saturday night. We chose to sit in the lounge area, where the art of conversation was being practiced by a few familiar, but mostly unfamiliar faces.
"So are you screwing anybody right now?" was the first question I opted to ask Tom.
"You know, he replied, "that girl Samantha."
"Wow, you still seeing her?"
"Her and about three others," he swooned.
He began to recount tales of recent conquests - the more he told me, the more I wanted to know - but all the time Mandy was in the back of my mind. "So what the hell do all these girls see in you?"
"I've got a ten inch dick." He remarked casually. Growing up I had often seen Tom in the shower and knew he was the proud possessor of an organ not to be ashamed of - but ten inches - I had to doubt it. "Have you hell, " I told him. I've seen it - it's not that big."
"Ah but my friend," he went on, "you've never seen it hard. I hope" We both laughed at this, but I suddenly saw my friend in a different light.
"Well I better not divulge the length of mine then," I told him.
"Come on mate, we're friends. I've told you mine." I wasn't suitably prepared to avoid answering him on this, but I reminded myself that our newly found openness could be a good thing to keep going - especially with his gesture of the doll.
"About five inches on a good day." I said under my breath.
He raised both hands out front. "Ah so what" was the extent of his response.
Tom continued his bed time tales until we'd sunk over six bottles of beer. The evening was good; talking this way was new and such a refreshing change form lawn mowers.
"Tell you what, " he said. "You go over the road and see what's under your duvet. I'll wait here until you return after ridding Mandy of her plastic hymen." I had to laugh at this; I laughed and nodded at the same time. Now I was eager to begin.
I thought it best to keep the light off when I went back through my bedroom door. Standing in the darkness, looking over towards where my bed lay, I realised my hands were sweating. Maybe if it hadn't been for the alcohol recently added to my body chemistry I would have changed my mind about going through with whatever it was I was going to go through with. But Mandy beckoned. In my head I dismissed the fact I was going to discover a plastic woman in my bed - she became real (still Mandy though - the name had grown on me). I slowly shed my clothes and tiptoed across the room so as not to wake her.
Under the duvet it was cold, but I discovered I was not alone as my side touched what was there. I allowed one finger to trace the shape of what my side was in contact with. This gave nothing away - nothing abnormal sprung to mind - it felt pleasant to touch - so far so good. My hands got a bit bolder, palms down easing over the surface - meeting the shape of a well-developed breast. It's peak revealed a nipple, which I tweaked as any man would. Then over this surface to a second breast - equally sized, equally pleasing to touch.
Hair brushed my brow as I cuddled in closer, soft and tickly. I planted a gentle kiss on the area where I felt the hair. There was no returned kiss, but instinct allowed me to continue with my mouth moving to where a mouth would anatomically be located. Slightly shocked to discover the outline of lips - abnormally open wide - but so they would be if a deep-kiss were being reciprocated. My mouth took this as a welcoming gesture and opened in response to kiss. My lips were now wrapped around a cavity, my nose finding a nose exactly where a nose should be. The cavity required a tongue to explore the hollowness - I obliged, encircling it around the circumference, pressing in harder and closer. I slowly and skillfully maneuvered myself half on top of the motionless object of my attention. The stiffness of my cock against my mattress began to make me feel the beginnings of a familiar arousal pattern. Whereas usually I would reach down, grasp it and rub furiously, this time I knew my luck was in. I had to find out where I was going - so a single finger went on an exploratory assignment to get my bearings. It poked between another area of soft hair, probably a bit clumsily, but hey this was no mission of mercy. A bit of extra force by the coming together of a few more fingers and I had found an opening. There was a different feel to this cavity - a waxy-like texture - allowing an ease of movement. I upped the motion, thinking I might as well practice this part as well - even warmer now, the friction was causing heat and...fuck my cock was hard and straining now. I helped myself to some more free movement, letting my knees take the strain as I began to position the lower part of my body over the shape that was now almost completely under me. My free hand forced apart the legs and I dragged my cock over and atop the opening. But just as I pulled back to gain a position in which to plunge, my internal anal muscles twitched and I felt the climatic surge of semen outpouring from the tip of my raised cock. I had cum. Shit! Shit! Shit! I had cum.
Lying very still, I waited until my breathing took on a normal tempo. I was still on top of Mandy only I felt a stickiness between us; from the end of my troubled penis - appending to her very own pubic area where earlier I had stroked the soft downy hair. Oops. I felt myself blushing and almost blurted out an apology before remembering that Tom would be waiting for my return. Should I lie to him? Should I tell him that I damn well prematurely ejaculated with a rubber doll? It seemed that I needed more help than I imagined. I didn't want to suffer this same short-lived fate on the night of my wedding to Jane. I would have to tell him.
I flung my clothes back on; still keeping the light switched off. I couldn't bear to face the female I had just let down so badly. Mandy lay, as ever, motionless, but as my eyes were now well adjusted to the dark, I could just make out her outline naked on my bed. She looked every inch a fine female form; the dark outline of her gravity defying breasts would be the envy of many women I was sure.
Back at the bar, I found Tom entranced in conversation with a couple of girls. He was surprised to see me, but thankfully didn't ask for a blow-by-blow account of what had transpired.
"Hey there Alan, this is Rachel," he said pointing to a very tall red head. "And this is Toni." Toni was an extremely cute blonde dressed in the tightest leather skirt I had ever seen. Her breasts struggled to stay confined in the equally tight top that was manually tied at her cleavage. "This is my very good friend, Alan." All eyes were upon me, the girls smiled warmly. "I know Rachel from college," he continued. "And she's the tallest girl I know with the best legs in the land."
"Oh Tommy stop it," the tall red head said coyly.
"What are you drinking Alan?" Tom asked me.
"Eh just a beer please,"
Tom stood up. "Sit down Al. They don't bite, well, Rachel does but that's a long story." They all laughed again; I sat down next to the smaller of the two girls and Tom disappeared from view.
"What do you do Alan?" I was asked.
This always embarrassed me, but I was too honest for my own good. "I sell lawnmowers."
The two girls looked at each other, stifling a giggle I am sure. "Well I'm a nurse and she's still at college," Toni said. I couldn't help watching her prominent cleavage as she spoke. I tried to ascertain if they could be the same size as the ones I had moments ago had in my grasp - they must be close. The polite banter soon dried up after an explanation of how, with the lawnmower business being seasonal, we had to do other equally exciting things such as renting carpet cleaners and industrial equipment. Although I tried not to make it obvious I had breasts on the mind, when Toni yawned I cast my eyes downwards once again and took in as much of the shadowed area between them as I could.
Thankfully Tom returned to bolster the conversation and protect the girls from death through boredom. They greeted him with gratitude for the drinks that he spread about the table. Then he was off and running: charming and outspoken, holding the constant attention of the two young girls.
We kind of turned into a foursome for the rest of the evening and I was nervous of being seen by anyone who knew of my relationship with Jane. I would have packed myself off for an early night to lessen the chance of being seen, but I just couldn't tear myself away from opportunity of being in the line of sight of Toni's tits.
Finally last orders were called and a decision on what to do next was to be made. Tom made it quick: "Right, its all back to Toni's place to continue the drinking!"
By this time I'd had enough alcohol, so attempted to request a coffee when we arrived at her third floor flat. The place was decorated as only a girl would decorate - but pleasant and very cozy for this time of the evening. The coffee was refused on the grounds that it would be too boring. Who was I to fight off that ever-present peer pressure, so I opted for a small measure of whiskey that once in my hand turned out to be filled to the rim and void of dilution.
Upbeat music was chosen but lasted only two songs when Rachel changed it for a slow softer sound. Her intention was becoming obvious as she took residence on the same seat as Tom. By natural selection, I tried to keep Toni entertained, wondering if I should mention my looming marriage. I chose not to and continued to treat her to some lawnmower selling anecdotes. She sat on the floor by the fire, close enough for me to keep a budding interest on her breasts, but too far to emulate what Tom and Rachel were starting. They were treating each other to the whispering of `sweet nothings' and occasional stolen kisses. Rachel's legs were stretched out to full length as she sat on Tom's knee, turned in to face him.
I could see that Toni was taking more of a passing interest in events on that side of the room. Even as I spoke directly to her, she watched her friend enjoying the closeness of Tom. I shut up and joined her in observing our respective acquaintances.
Silent moments passed, broken only by soft murmurings and sighs from the couple within our view. I turned to steal another look at Toni, sat with her legs curled under her rear; the tightness of her skirt gripping her thighs, giving me a fresh voyeuristic fortuity. Her sex appeal stung me as overpowering; the relaxed and warm atmosphere in the room, along with the added incentive of alcohol induced confidence, spelt out the next move I was to make. I made for the floor, smiling as I lay in the proximity of Toni. She was startled, but not enough to send me on my way. Perhaps she too thought that this was the right thing to do given the circumstances. She relaxed and I suppose awaited my next brave move. When no move was forthcoming, she helped me out by stretching out her legs and moving into a more comfortable position. My mouth became uninvitingly dry as I took in the sight. I'm not sure if it were her or me that brought our bodies even closer to a point of significant contact. Fact to face, side by side, suddenly one of my hands was on her skirt, feeling the coolness of the material. She sensed me tremble but helped me out again by guiding this hand upward to come to rest on one of the breasts I had spent the evening eyeing so blatantly. She circled my hand for me, demonstrating the way she wanted it touched. A wicked smile appeared and she signaled me silently to turn and observe the goings on to the rear of me. There was Rachel with her skirt hem now waist high, kneeling across Tom on the chair. It was difficult to see for sure, but it was pretty obvious that he was actually fucking her. His trousers were still on but his fly was undone and they were truly joined at the hips, gyrating very slowly; grinding and swaying gently. The expression on Tom's face was one of concentration. I could only see the back of Rachel's head, but by the sound she emitted, we both knew what she thought of this activity.
Whilst I continued watching my friend skillfully fucking the lean redhead, I didn't notice Toni slip a hand through my own now open trouser front. Then I was aware of her touch directly on my cock. Her other hand had unclipped the back of her skirt and she was peeling it down over her bare legs. Tom had seen this happening and managed a smile in acknowledgment.
As shell-shocked as I was, once Toni's semi nakedness was finally revealed to me, I complied with the directing of my hand to the top of her raised thighs. She then left me to me own devices, with decisions to be made about what direction to take. A kiss was now upon me, so my hand took the only course of action left open to it - slipping under the elastic of her tiny panties to the warm area inside. This area was decidedly damper than that of the object that lay at home in my own bed. Her thighs clamped around my hand, drawing it upwards. She squeezed nonchalantly on my cock to indicate approval of my interest in the inner areas of her body. But the squeeze took me to the point of no return and I spurted a small quantity of fluid across her wrist. This time she was startled and showed no sign of regaining the composure she'd shown when I'd first lain down beside her. She quickly withdrew her hand and sat bolt upright, giving a thunderous expression of disdain.
I quickly fumbled my bewildered penis back into my trouser front, turning away from her as I did so. I saw Rachel looking over from on top of Tom, her hand over her mouth to conceal the most obvious laugh I'd ever witnessed. She quickly concentrated back on her own situation, not before whispering something into Tom's ear.
Toni had run out the room and I was left alone, ashamed and emotionally exposed. I stared expressionlessly at the floor, listening to Rachel's moaning increasing in volume and frequency. My plight was bad; the future loomed gloomily - instead of evoking the excitement a marriage to the woman you love should do.
Rachel let out one final wail, and I couldn't resist looking over. Her head was thrown back and she was biting hard on her top lip. Tom's eyes were closed and his face contorted as he stopped himself from joining in the sexual chorus. She flopped forwards and they hugged stilly for a moment. When she began to move off Tom, her long legs merely inching backwards, I saw Tom's cock unplug itself with a pop from her grateful body. They were both smiling contentedly, watching each other's eyes closely for endorsement of their mutual satisfaction. They both found what they were looking for, and Rachel smoothed back down her skirt, her eyes still not leaving Tom's. "I'll just go and check on Toni," she said in a hoarse whisper like she had almost lost the ability to speak properly.
Tom nodded and remained silent until she had left the room. Once the door closed, he looked towards me as he made the effort to tuck back his cock inside his trousers. I saw now the difference he'd spoke of earlier; his cock, even now a disappearing hard on, was immense, quite significantly larger than the times I recalled seeing it flaccid, and much over twice the length of my very own. Right now to think of my cock was the worst thing to do, I was definitely not going to speak to it for a while - after all - it had let me down in public.
"What's with you mate?" he said, once safely tucked away.
"Well I wasn't expecting this to happen. I guess I lost it a bit. Must be the drink."
"But if you had went through it earlier with Mandy, then you should have been a bit desensitized, surely."
"Well I didn't exactly have much luck there either."
He looked confused, but I thought that now wasn't the right moment to go into the details of my liaison with Mandy.
"Tom!" Rachel shouted for Tom from behind the shut door. He walked over to open it, adjusting his crotch crudely as he stood.
"What's up Rachel?"
"Could you help Toni out a minute?" She asked.
I could hear Rachel's voice, but she remained outside the room. Tom hesitated, considering something. "What do you mean honey?"
"Well she's in a kind of bad way you see," she continued. "I thought you might be able to do something for her."
Tom turned to look back at me. "Oops mate," he said. "It would seem that my services are required for a female in distress." He gave me a wink and shut the door behind him.
From the room and the crouched position in which I remained, I could hear Toni's distress being relieved. She was certainly nosier than Rachel had been. But perhaps the privacy of a bedroom had allowed a more creative session to ensue.
I wondered where Rachel had gone off to, when she opened the door and entered the room with two steaming cups of coffee.
"Here you go Alan," she spoke to me. "They'll not be too long I hope." She smiled on hearing a particularly loud scream echoing down the hallway.
As we waited, conversation was scarce, eye contact was even rarer, but I committed myself to drinking the coffee as hot as I could to take my mind off this painful episode.
When they both came back into the room, I was glad to see that an effort was being made to bring things back to normality. Tom made some skillful small talk that brought everyone back onto even terms. I even found myself sobering up and enjoying the feeling of the attention being directed away from any sexual goings on.
"You'll have to get this sorted out," Tom said to me as we walked back towards my house. It was still dark, but only just as the wee small hours turned into bigger numbers. We hesitated outside my bedroom door, remembering the presence that lay inside.
"What about Mandy?" I said, my hand reaching out to the door handle.
"So what happened before?" he whispered.
I told him about my attempt to couple with the doll. If he was amused, he made a good job of hiding it.
"Oh shit," he remarked. "So you came before you had a chance to penetrate?"
I nodded. "I kept the light off and I suppose my body was fooled into believing it was the real thing, so acted accordingly."
"Mmm, this is worse that I thought."
"But I liked the feeling of the doll."
"I thought you hadn't properly felt it."
"I hadn't, I mean its tits and pussy."
"What you mean you fingered it?" This time he failed to hide his amusement. "Come on, let's both go and meet her now."
With that I opened the door and we entered the bedroom. The duvet covered the doll, just a glimpse of dark hair could be seen on the pillow.
"I'm going to help you mate, I promise you." He said. "Right come on, take your trousers off."
"God Tom, I can't do that." I protested.
"Just do it Alan. You've seen me screwing a girl. There is nothing to hide, it's the only way I can help you sort this out."
I pondered momentarily; thinking that what Tom knew about me couldn't really be any more embarrassing than going along with whatever he was about to suggest.
"Alright," I nodded, and dimmed the light switch. I sat on the edge of the bed and removed my trousers as instructed. My penis hung limp and sticky against my testicles. "This may be difficult, you know, to get it bigger."
He politely didn't look between my legs as I remained sat on the bed.
"Well this might do it, " he began. "Imagine Jane on your wedding night removing her long white dress. She stands before you, stockings and a bra that keeps a firm grasp of her swollen breasts. She's aching to find out about the pleasures that can be got by feeling you deep inside her, but she's nervous and needs you to lead the way. You take her hand and pull her into you. Her curves are against your body. Here is the woman you love just about to offer her virginity to you - the way she looks, you know, would drive any man wild; any man. But you've got her and you sure as hell want this to last as long as you can. She takes one step back from you. She's close enough so you can still feel her breath, warm and slightly laboured against your cheeks. He hands crisscross over her chest. In unison, they pull down the straps that hold her breasts from sight. Her bra falls. She's now looking so deeply into your eyes, she's offering you her body completely."
I looked down at my cock, stirring into some kind of life as Tom continued to plant this image in my head. I cleared my throat. "Right Tom, I think I am ready."
He now cast his eyes to see what all the fuss is about. His face grimaces slightly. "Alan, he says. "It is small isn't it?"
I look down to where his eyes have befallen. My cock, standing in a semi erect position, lifted slightly from its usual resting position. "Well maybe compared to yours Tom," I tell him, managing a smile to give me back some of the confidence he just knocked out of me. "It's not just the length Alan," he goes on. "But it's really thin, I mean really thin." His eyes are especially examining me from across the room, and then he suddenly remembers what we are trying to accomplish. "Right. Come on then slip under the duvet and let's give this a shot."
Although I felt quite tired, and my body was overwhelmed by an early morning sobering up sensation, I concentrated in following the instructions of my experienced friend. I lay down next to Mandy, this time aware of the strong smell of rubber, and pulled the duvet back over us.
"Right," Tom continued, taking on the tone of a schoolteacher. "For now, that's Jane lying beside you and she's nervous about what's going to happen. So you reassure her with some soft kissing and a slow caress of her neck and arms. Don't go straight for her tits, give he a chance to relax." He pauses in order observe if I am listening. "Go on then Alan, start it off."
I begin to kiss the latex material of the cheek, deviating from his direction by running my fingers through the fine hair on the head. I hear him acknowledge my progress, and both my hands disappear under the duvet to initiate the foreplay.
"So does she feel good to you? Are you getting any harder than you were?" he asks me in a quite whisper. I don't turn around to him, but manage to nod my head as I work my lips on the neck. "OK then," he continues, satisfied that I am past the first phase. "Maybe brush very softly against her breasts as if by mistake while you feel her side. They're bigger then Jane's aren't they?" I can't resist stealing a bit more than a slight touch of her breasts, but Alan couldn't see exactly what my hands were up to. I squeeze a palm directly across one of the unmistakably firm tits, the feeling fooling my cock into thinking that Mandy is as real as it gets. It works, and I feel my cock perk up in agreement of my actions.
Suddenly I feel a draft on my back as I realised that Tom has pulled the duvet off the bed. "I thought so, " he says, "that hand of yours is getting you carried away, slow down man." My hand withdraws from its attention to her breasts, and I wonder if I can actually continue this with my friend seeing it all.
"Right, OK, lets not worry about that now, I don't want to spoil the mood here," he suddenly assures me, perhaps sensing my discomfort. "Try a finger and tease the outer part of that pussy there, I can see your getting worked up. Maybe we should cut back on the foreplay and see if that helps things for now."
I'm thankful that he has decided to take this course of action, thinking that the most embarrassing thing would be to come before I got the chance to enter her. "Slowly, very slowly, roll on top of her as you work a finger in to get her ready for you." My hand is already one step ahead of him and feeling its way through the pubic hair. I remembered the feeling from before as a single digit presses its way directly inward and upward, the ease of movement through the soft waxy surface, almost inviting more fingers to join the first one. I gently massaged the finger back and fourth. "That's it Alan," Tom said, she's ready for you now."
I was ready too and moved my whole body across the dolls, using my spare hand to open the legs. "This is important Alan." Tom began speaking quietly again. "Try blocking out what you're doing from your head. Think some un-sexy thoughts, try saying the alphabet backwards." I knew what he was saying made some kind of sense, so I aligned my thoughts away from the perfect body below me. I removed my hand from between the legs and took up the only fucking position I knew. My cock slowly entered where my finger had been, the latex material widening easily, the cavity receiving me as it was designed to do.
"Now slowly Alan. Slowly!" Tom's voice was louder now, and I realised he had to do this to be heard over the beginnings of my own moaning. "Slowly move your hips," he shouted again. I began the movement, my mind in turmoil to try and ignore the wonderful feeling that was building. I was on my third mild thrust when I could hold back no more. Conscious that I had an audience, I tried to avoid clenching my buttocks as the orgasm rippled through me. As my fluids leaked out for the third time that night, embarrassment and shame forced me to grapple for the duvet to conceal my quivering torso. I could hear Tom voicing his disappointment, but he tactfully attempted to offer some encouragement at the same time. "OK Alan, it's OK, we'll get there, you're obviously just a horny bastard." I couldn't look up to meet his eyes, scared that I would discover his true reaction. He continued contributing some forced encouragement before telling me he would see me later on. The words "Don't worry mate" rang through my head as I heard the door close behind him.
3 I met Jane for lunch later on that day. She kept asking me if I was feeling well, saying I looked worn out. I did feel tired and my head throbbed constantly, but my thoughts were locked on my impending wedding night, a nervous churning dwelling deep in my stomach. The more I looked at her, the more the feeling persisted; the shape of her breasts uncharacteristically obvious today, and her bum covered tightly in light blue denim. I saw the challenge ahead of me: to satisfy this beautiful woman who was soon to be my bride.
Jane had no idea of the sexual presence she possessed. Being a man, I regularly observed other men glancing admiringly at her - despite her usual propensity for wearing non- flattering clothing. She simply skipped through life oblivious to the power she could impart on anyone of her choosing. I was lucky in the fact that I had merely been in the right place at the right time, when her ****** thought it wise she take a husband. But I wanted things to be perfect for us. We did talk about sex occasionally; and given the right mood, she would tell me of her excitement of beginning that part of married life. She admitted that, despite her sheltered upbringing, she had touched herself in bed and found the feeling entirely pleasurable. Since hearing this from her, I had used the image of her nervously fingering herself during many of my own wanks, although I had not shared this with her. She did however know of my one time experience with a woman and found this acceptable, saying that at least one of us would know what they were doing. I sensed that once we were wed, if I managed to introduce her to a decent sex life, then she would develop a hearty appetite for more of the same. I longed for that moment, but due to my recent activities, I envisaged it being more difficult than I had always believed.
The idea came to me after the next few attempts to increase my staying power through use of Mandy and her various holes had failed. Each time, I allowed myself time to mentally prepare - I concentrated intensely, trying various modifications to my technique. I tried rear entry, tried bouncing Mandy on top me, tried it standing, sitting, kneeling; with condoms, rubber rings, lubricant, desensitising cream. I spent four full days after feigning illness to get off work - morning, noon and night - on the floor, against the wall, on the hard chair, soft char, and carpet - even in the bath. Mandy never complained, but each new erection ended with a brief session, me puffing and irritated waiting for my next erection to arrive. After the second day, I just needed to look at Mandy and my thoughts would turn to screwing her - but my excitement, like my hardons was short lived once I penetrated her plastic pussy. I even took to dressing her up in underwear or fully clothing her and going through the process of undressing her before mounting - trying to catch her off guard. The underwear actually made it worse; Mandy looked perfect in black stockings; once or twice I had relapsed and soiled the stocking tops whilst journeying to my very temporary home.
In all the times I went through the motion of making love to my `practice' girlfriend, I never got beyond five light thrusts. A few times I tried increasing the speed in order to beat my own personal best, but got to all of three thrusts before the inevitable happened. Admittedly, if I did it this way I could continue the momentum for another six or seven jabs before my cock wilted and the action became futile. Perhaps I could fool her into believing she'd been the recipient of ten rapid thrusts before I had intentionally called it a day.
When Tom came round to assess my progress, I refused to give him a demonstration. He saw the bucket load of tissues by my bed and remarked that I'd been a busy boy. After half an hour of avoiding answering his inquiry, I finally came clean and blurted out dishearteningly that I wasn't improving. He displayed genuine concern and tried to make me feel better by saying it may be different when it came to `real' practice. I was not convinced. He said he would dispose of Mandy for me, theorising that if I forgot about it entirely then it could make it easier. He was a true friend, I saw that, but I couldn't bear to let Mandy go.
It was then I made the suggestion: Would he take her virginity for me on our wedding night? He was speechless to say the least, confused by my despairing proposal. I explained that if we set it up properly then we could fool Jane into thinking it was me.
"And how the hell would we do that?" he asked, looking at me seriously, almost questioning my sanity.
"Well we're bound to do it with the lights off that's for sure." I replied.
"But how?" he protested.
"You could be in the bathroom. I could say I need the toilet and we could swap over then." It was a simple theory, one that at that moment I believed could work. "We're of the same build, well most of us. If you get a haircut and have a close shave, then I'm sure we'd pull it off. Theirs no way Jane would ever suspect foul play." We both fell silent for an extended minute. I could see his expression was one of deep thought and obvious consideration of my idea.
"But afterwards?"
"Well we swap back as right away."
"No I mean, the next time you do it."
"Yes but by then she will have the lasting memory of the session with you. I'm sure she'll forgive me a few failed sessions. And she'll be eager for some of that practice that we have been talking so much about."
"God Alan, it will never work," he said. "Or would it? Oh hell I don't know." I could sense he was in the process of convincing himself. I let him ramble for a few minutes, gong through the pros and cons of carrying out such a preposterous idea. He finally joined me once again in silent deliberation.
"I may regret this," he eventually stated. "Well you may regret it more than me but OK, let's do it."
I had talked him around. It would work.
4 That evening I spent in the company of Jane and her parents. Jane and myself were comfortably close on the couch and her mum and *** sat opposite us in silence gripped in a tense game of scrabble. I developed an erection that would not disappear as my thoughts continually altered from Mandy lying patiently at home waiting for me and the scheme Tom and I had developed earlier. I couldn't decide between the two distinctly different thoughts, which one was exciting me more. The image of Tom screwing my pretty new wife certainly got my heart thumping at an incredible rate - thundering the blood straight down to my penis. And the memory and knowledge that after I said goodnight to Jane I could go home to a sure thing with Mandy. The first thought gave me the erection and the later one helped keep it in place. I was sorely tempted to make a quick visit to the toilet to dwell on the thoughts in private but I resisted - enjoying the warmth inside the crotch of my jeans.
"Your quiet tonight honey," Jane whispered so as not to disturb her parents concentration. "I've a lot on my mind, " I replied, capturing an instant thought of Jane whispering in this way to Tom but thinking it was me. The anticipation was building with just four days to go until our big day. I recalled the girls from the other night; of seeing or rather hearing the reaction Tom brought about from the girl who sat on his lap. Would Jane emit similar noises? Would she come with Tom? Would her first time be all that she anticipated? I rather hoped she would and would gain a taste for more of the same.
As Jane said goodbye to me at the front door we joined in a lengthy kiss. She whispered to me that she was eager to be together as man and wife - a way that only she could put it. Actually during the kiss I was aware of her breathing intensifying and face flushing to a degree I had never witnessed before. I genuinely believed she was longing to begin her long awaited sex life. I couldn't help but imagine how wet she must be right then - to a point where she would be confused, due to her lifelong innocence, about how her body was reacting - but liking the feeling and hoping for more and more.
As I walked home I found a new urgency in my pace. The friction on my erection, helped along by this thought of Jane's body being at the disposal of Tom, ultimately made me come. I paused for a moment in the dimly lit street and allowed the pulsating to cease. I was thankful that the street was quiet - realising how my grimacing face might look to a passerby.
As the erection I'd maintained for the majority of the evening began to dwindle, I felt it retract through the stickiness that was now present inside my boxer shorts. I had to disappoint Mandy when I finally tumbled into bed and I opted for a simple uncomplicated cuddle instead. Through the night however I felt that familiar twitch leading to me being thrown into instant wakefulness which could only be halted by one thing. I'm sure Mandy didn't even stir as I gleefully poked my cock into her ever-ready hole. The digital clock by my bedside gave the game away - the digits signifying the minutes remaining the same at the beginning and end of my connection with her.
Tom arrived early the next morning. I was aware of a light knocking - intruding within the half trance I had managed to put myself in at some point through my designated sleep period. The usually simple process of getting off to sleep had become a long haul - taking my every effort to lessen the alertness my body had decided it desired. But the knocking soon made enough sense to force a growl as indication of my presence within the room. It took a hefty grasp of my shoulder to finally bring me around.
"Hey man, wakey wakey." I heard Tom's voice cooing lightly.
I stirred, remembering Mandy's presence in my bed. Too late.
"You still enjoying the company of that heavenly doll?"
"Just kind of used to it being there now," I told him as I hoisted myself up onto my elbows.
"Well get yourself dressed then. We're going shopping."
I did wonder exactly what he meant, but decided not to ask until I was in more of state to take it in.
When I did finally rise completely I was more than aware of Tom checking out my naked torso. I grappled with a pair of boxer shorts in a desperate urge to conceal my usually concealed parts.
"I guess that our bodies are similar," he told me. "But Alan, I'm afraid that one bit may be a give away."
"Do you really think it will be noticed?" I asked him, finally hiding the part to which he referred.
He just nodded, but I could see there were many thoughts firing away behind his eyes. I sat on the edge of the bed next to Mandy; her opened mouth expression - the gape I'd kissed so often now - seemed like a smile - a large smile - as it happened too large to be any good for its intention - but a good size for dragging your tongue around. Her breasts were bared also; the softness in design of the fleshy parts that always kept their shape - culminating in the peak of each nipple, constantly erect - usually the focus of my attentive gaze when mounted atop her lean figure.
"Would you like to see it properly?" he asked me.
I turned back to face my friend, knowing exactly what the `it' was but not wanting to appear too eager. We watched each other's eyes for a sign of something - positive or negative it would have been good to see some kind of sign, but none was evident, I suppose it seemed quite logical to see exactly what was going to be gifted to my wife on our wedding night. I broke the silence: "But I have seen it before."
"Yea."
Another moment of watchful silence as I imagined again how it looked. "Well I suppose I haven't seen it close up." I managed a laugh in between my words. "But I suppose it's important to see what I have to live up too afterwards." I sustained the laughter, offering some light to a strangely serious moment between friends.
"Hell I know what would
1 It was August the twelfth, 6 days before my wedding day. I sat with Tom, my best friend and soon to be best man. He inquired as to what arrangements could be made for my bachelor party. But I was unsure, telling him it wasn't important to me. We had been sat sipping beer for the most part of the afternoon.
"So how's your sex life with Jane then?" he asked. "You know Alan," his eyes raised in an almost caricature manner, "she really is very hot - really."
Jane was my fianc?e, and he was correct in his observation; she was `hot'. I had known her at that point for only four months, but from the first moment I saw her I knew I wanted her as my wife. We were introduced to each other at a Church fete that I was forced to attend by my community-spirited parents. I had spotted her before our introduction, watching over a stall that sold clothes for some greedy charity. Despite her choice of clothing on that day were far from flattering - but perfect for a church event - I could see she possessed a slender yet curved body, carefully concealed. And her apparent shyness upon meeting furthered my interest. Her sidelong glances bolstering my own confidence, which is normally my downfall in these situations. Her ****** had recently moved into the area and had become friends with my parents through `churchy' activities. Our meeting started with a simple handshake but the day ended with me attempting clumsily to ask her out on a date - which to my surprise she accepted.
"Well, we haven't gone all the way, " I told him with slight hesitation brought on by how personal the conversation was becoming. "I thought I would leave that until after the wedding." To be truthful, this hadn't been through choice - both of us came from very religious families and during out short courtship had never gotten the opportunity to try out what normal young couples take for granted. "We've done a lot of other stuff though," I lied, trying to regain some credibility in the `macho' stakes. He smiled, as if waiting for all the details, but I sipped on a beer in silence.
Tom had a different perspective of things; although we had grown up together, he'd went off to college whilst I'd opted to go into the ****** business of selling lawnmowers. Throughout our childhood we had shared about everything there is to share and had been as close as any two boys could be all from an early age. I was devastated when our paths ran different courses
The times when Tom came home from college his conversation was constantly about the girls he bedded and the wild parties he'd graced with his precence. He'd changed; whilst I had remained quite innocent when it came to all the subjects he preferred broadcasting about. Still we remained friends - good friends - I looked up to his worldly-wise attitude and envied his countless stories of women and more women.
"So you're going to wait until the big night then?" Tom proceeded to ask, unperturbed by my choice to remain silent. I wasn't sure if it was a statement or a question. "Think you'll be up to it?" Well that was a question, but I continued to sip my bottle of beer and refrain from a retort. "Come on now Alan," he went on. "We both know that the only time you've ever done it was with that tart at your 21st. Now that was 2 years ago." Tom was correct; my first and only time had been at my 21st Birthday party with a well-known local girl - and she wasn't well known for her good manners.
"Yea maybe so," I replied. "But what's that got to do with it."
"Well don't you think that maybe your lack of practice will be pretty obvious?"
"I don't think that matters Tom. We can't all be as well traveled as you." I looked at him distastefully. "Don't worry about me."
"Ah but I do Alan," he gave me a huge smile. "I have your best interests at heart."
I gave him a look that screamed `shut up' and opened another bottle of beer.
"Well if you don't want to talk about it then never mind."
"What exactly are you saying then Tom?" I said, suddenly interested in what pearls of wisdom he may have to offer.
"Put it this way, " he replied. "Do you wank a lot?"
This wasn't a conversation I would normally wish to continue; I put it down to the effects of the alcohol and my own nervousness about the week ahead that I chose to humor him.
"A few times a week I guess." I laughed to conceal embarrassment and lighten the response.
"Come on Alan, don't get embarrassed," He had seen through my nervous laugh. "Hey I wank all the time. I am the world's number one wanker. What else are hands for?"
My laugh this time was more confident. "I've known that for years Tom."
"So how long does it normally take you to cum when you do it?"
"For fucks sake Tom, shut up."
"No come on, tell me, I'm trying to give you some advice here."
I did wonder exactly what kind of advice he was trying to impart. "What do you mean?"
"Do you go in for a quick-finger-fumble, or do you make it a bit more exotic than that?"
"I try not let it rule my life," I told him.
"So it's just a routine get-it-out-of-the-way kind of thing then?"
"I guess it is. A few minutes, a few tugs and hell, Bob's your uncle."
"Well there's your first problem mate."
"Please get to your point here Tom." I said. "What in hell are you on about?"
"Right, " he sunk the remains of his latest beer bottle and laid it down at his feet. "If you're used to a quick wank then when it comes to having the real thing you'll be finished in a matter of seconds." He looked at me for a response. "You see sex is a bit more overwhelming than wanking. As soon as you enter that velvety cushion between her legs, it'll be too much for you to hold onto and you'll just let go, and Bob will be a very embarrassed uncle - if you get my drift"
I had to admit he did have a point. I had read in problem-pages of men suffering premature ejaculation, and my one and only encounter after turning 21 had been exceptionally brief - I had actually cum as soon as my over eager cock had touched that velvety area that Tom spoke of. I had put it down to being first time nerves and had never dwelled upon it - in fact it was one memory that was a favorite to draw upon when going through the short lived motion of pulling myself off behind the locked bathroom door or beneath the crusty sheets of my single bed.
"Yea well, " I felt I should offer some kind of response. "Let me worry about that when and if it happens." I smiled at him, dismissing the apprehension he was throwing my way.
"It will happen Alan, I can assure you of that."
"Well I've got six days to get it right and maybe prolong those wanks a bit." I tried to once again make light of what was rapidly becoming a somber analysis of a sex life that hadn't even begun yet. But admittedly, as we spoke, I was developing a nervousness inside that I knew was a result of a fear that I, and I'm sure many men, try to keep held in a subconscious area. I was always of the understanding that the more you thought about these things then the worse they became - anxiety breeding anxiety and all that.
"There's more to it than that Alan," he said, ignoring my attempt to alter the mood. "You'll never change what you've inadvertently trained your body to accept for all these years. Maybe if you had the next six days in bed with some understanding wench who didn't mind your ups and downs." He grinned and shook his head. "But those babes are hard to find, and what with your track record, I'm afraid, well." He cast his eyes downwards.
"I think Jane will be understanding and accept things as they are, if there is a problem. But I think I will be alright-on-the-night." I suppose I was trying to convince myself with this response, but the niggle was still ominously present.
"Yea mate, I'm sure Jane will be understanding, but as she's a bit short of experience herself, she'll never be able to help you sort it out. I guarantee it. You need to start as you mean to go on."
There was some sense in what he was saying, but it was hardly a topic I thought we should have been discussing, a bit more personal than I was used to. But the drink was taking effect. And yes, Jane was still a virgin - and here was I in charge of the responsibility to ensure she had a memorable first time. The pressure was well and truly on. Here was a guy I had always looked up to convincing me that I had a sexual related problem even before I had tried it out. Was he right? The question was reeling around my head.
A silence ensued around us, but the casual sipping of beer continued. "I want to get this right," I stated, wanting him now to offer me some potential solutions; seeing his offer of advice as at least a starting point in alleviating my growing disquietude.
"I can maybe help you out mate," he told me right on cue. "This might sound a bit weird, but keep with me." Once again he downed his latest bottle, a sure sign he was ready for a stream of words, hopefully helpful ones. He clasped both his hands out front. "Right, he began. "The problem is your lack of real sex. You have to get used to the feel of a cunt clamped around you." I was surprised by his phrasing of the words but continued to listen. "Once you're used to it, you'll have no problem whatsoever." He cleared his throat. "But we don't have any available females who would willingly serve as your practice doll, so." He paused..letting me wait, upping my curiosity. "Here's the solution; we get a doll and you do it with that as many times as required."
"What?" It's not that I hadn't heard or understood what he'd meant, but I felt it necessary to shout out `what'. What else could I shout?
"I've seen them before, my room mate when I was at college used to have one. It was very realistic. Seriously."
I couldn't disagree, it was a sound idea in theory, but in that instant I dismissed it as a bit extreme. I shook my head slowly. "I don't think so mate," I told him, "I couldn't shag a rubber doll - no way."
"Come on Alan, lots of guys use them, I can even get one for you; save you the embarrassment."
He gave me a serious look, which helped. I was half expecting him to bust out laughing, so I waited him out for a moment, tried a hysterical laugh myself then joined him with my own serious look. The look lingered; I laughed again then nodded very slowly. "Right then mate, you present me with the doll and I'll give it a try."
2 The next morning, my sore head kind of dulled the memory of my conversation with Tom. I awoke with an erection, and it was only when I began the process of pulling it up and down that I recalled my agreement with him to have a go with a rubber doll. As I curled my fingers tighter around my tool, the thought actually got me quite worked up. I had no idea why this was, but a few rapid tugs and I felt the hot flesh in my hand pulsate and let go a tiny torrent of fluid onto the underside of my duvet. Oh hell, I remembered; this was exactly why I was to use the doll - to stop this happening so damn quickly. I felt guilty, or maybe annoyed that, despite my conversation with Tom; I had started off so badly with my self-control. Roll on the doll, I thought, roll on the doll.
Tom didn't let me down either, that evening he visited me with a plain brown cardboard box under one arm. The usual pleasantries were swapped between us, the mysterious box, unopened, was abandoned on my bed.
It was me who broached the subject first. "So what's in the box?" He smiled brightly, I think glad that I had remembered. "Is that what we were talking about last night?"
"Told you I wouldn't let you down," he crooned. "So have you wanked today?"
"No," I lied. Truth was I had only knocked off the one, but I couldn't admit it now. Although tempted when I came home from work, I had curbed the craving and promised to save myself until I found out if Tom remembered his promise. He definitely had.
"Good man, `cause that's important." He gave me a wink. "So, do you want to meet her?"
I laughed out loud. "Do you really think this will work?" He never replied, just grabbed the box from the bed and opened the folded lid.
"Well get me a foot pump then," he called out before revealing the contents.
I busied myself under the bed, reaching to the far side where I kept my football pump.
"This is Mandy, apparently." Tom now said, looking at the flesh coloured item still half concealed by the box. "Maybe you shouldn't see her like this." He proceeded to stuff Mandy back in her box, looking at me with a sly smile. "Give me the pump and leave the room for a few minutes." He waited. "Go on then," he yelled.
I handed him the small foot-pump and exited my bedroom. The only place to go was the bathroom. I viewed my face in the brightly-lit mirror. The anticipation was profound; my heartbeat was significantly raised, but the strangeness of the situation didn't strike as I knew it should have. I knew I wouldn't be able to pee; my cock was rock hard.
A light-knock on the door and Tom's voice whispering through the crack; "Mandy's ready."
The bolt on the door snapped back loudly. I was face to face with Tom in the hallway outside. "Listen man, " I told him. "Do you think we could grab a few beers before I go back to the bedroom?"
"Sure mate," he responded, as any friend would or should in a situation such as.
I didn't bother telling my parents we were outward bound; thinking that seeing them would spoil the whole scenario. We lived in a large house, where, thankfully, I could come and go as I pleased without noise of my departure echoing into the midst of my mum and dads haunts.
The bar across the road was busy, even for a Saturday night. We chose to sit in the lounge area, where the art of conversation was being practiced by a few familiar, but mostly unfamiliar faces.
"So are you screwing anybody right now?" was the first question I opted to ask Tom.
"You know, he replied, "that girl Samantha."
"Wow, you still seeing her?"
"Her and about three others," he swooned.
He began to recount tales of recent conquests - the more he told me, the more I wanted to know - but all the time Mandy was in the back of my mind. "So what the hell do all these girls see in you?"
"I've got a ten inch dick." He remarked casually. Growing up I had often seen Tom in the shower and knew he was the proud possessor of an organ not to be ashamed of - but ten inches - I had to doubt it. "Have you hell, " I told him. I've seen it - it's not that big."
"Ah but my friend," he went on, "you've never seen it hard. I hope" We both laughed at this, but I suddenly saw my friend in a different light.
"Well I better not divulge the length of mine then," I told him.
"Come on mate, we're friends. I've told you mine." I wasn't suitably prepared to avoid answering him on this, but I reminded myself that our newly found openness could be a good thing to keep going - especially with his gesture of the doll.
"About five inches on a good day." I said under my breath.
He raised both hands out front. "Ah so what" was the extent of his response.
Tom continued his bed time tales until we'd sunk over six bottles of beer. The evening was good; talking this way was new and such a refreshing change form lawn mowers.
"Tell you what, " he said. "You go over the road and see what's under your duvet. I'll wait here until you return after ridding Mandy of her plastic hymen." I had to laugh at this; I laughed and nodded at the same time. Now I was eager to begin.
I thought it best to keep the light off when I went back through my bedroom door. Standing in the darkness, looking over towards where my bed lay, I realised my hands were sweating. Maybe if it hadn't been for the alcohol recently added to my body chemistry I would have changed my mind about going through with whatever it was I was going to go through with. But Mandy beckoned. In my head I dismissed the fact I was going to discover a plastic woman in my bed - she became real (still Mandy though - the name had grown on me). I slowly shed my clothes and tiptoed across the room so as not to wake her.
Under the duvet it was cold, but I discovered I was not alone as my side touched what was there. I allowed one finger to trace the shape of what my side was in contact with. This gave nothing away - nothing abnormal sprung to mind - it felt pleasant to touch - so far so good. My hands got a bit bolder, palms down easing over the surface - meeting the shape of a well-developed breast. It's peak revealed a nipple, which I tweaked as any man would. Then over this surface to a second breast - equally sized, equally pleasing to touch.
Hair brushed my brow as I cuddled in closer, soft and tickly. I planted a gentle kiss on the area where I felt the hair. There was no returned kiss, but instinct allowed me to continue with my mouth moving to where a mouth would anatomically be located. Slightly shocked to discover the outline of lips - abnormally open wide - but so they would be if a deep-kiss were being reciprocated. My mouth took this as a welcoming gesture and opened in response to kiss. My lips were now wrapped around a cavity, my nose finding a nose exactly where a nose should be. The cavity required a tongue to explore the hollowness - I obliged, encircling it around the circumference, pressing in harder and closer. I slowly and skillfully maneuvered myself half on top of the motionless object of my attention. The stiffness of my cock against my mattress began to make me feel the beginnings of a familiar arousal pattern. Whereas usually I would reach down, grasp it and rub furiously, this time I knew my luck was in. I had to find out where I was going - so a single finger went on an exploratory assignment to get my bearings. It poked between another area of soft hair, probably a bit clumsily, but hey this was no mission of mercy. A bit of extra force by the coming together of a few more fingers and I had found an opening. There was a different feel to this cavity - a waxy-like texture - allowing an ease of movement. I upped the motion, thinking I might as well practice this part as well - even warmer now, the friction was causing heat and...fuck my cock was hard and straining now. I helped myself to some more free movement, letting my knees take the strain as I began to position the lower part of my body over the shape that was now almost completely under me. My free hand forced apart the legs and I dragged my cock over and atop the opening. But just as I pulled back to gain a position in which to plunge, my internal anal muscles twitched and I felt the climatic surge of semen outpouring from the tip of my raised cock. I had cum. Shit! Shit! Shit! I had cum.
Lying very still, I waited until my breathing took on a normal tempo. I was still on top of Mandy only I felt a stickiness between us; from the end of my troubled penis - appending to her very own pubic area where earlier I had stroked the soft downy hair. Oops. I felt myself blushing and almost blurted out an apology before remembering that Tom would be waiting for my return. Should I lie to him? Should I tell him that I damn well prematurely ejaculated with a rubber doll? It seemed that I needed more help than I imagined. I didn't want to suffer this same short-lived fate on the night of my wedding to Jane. I would have to tell him.
I flung my clothes back on; still keeping the light switched off. I couldn't bear to face the female I had just let down so badly. Mandy lay, as ever, motionless, but as my eyes were now well adjusted to the dark, I could just make out her outline naked on my bed. She looked every inch a fine female form; the dark outline of her gravity defying breasts would be the envy of many women I was sure.
Back at the bar, I found Tom entranced in conversation with a couple of girls. He was surprised to see me, but thankfully didn't ask for a blow-by-blow account of what had transpired.
"Hey there Alan, this is Rachel," he said pointing to a very tall red head. "And this is Toni." Toni was an extremely cute blonde dressed in the tightest leather skirt I had ever seen. Her breasts struggled to stay confined in the equally tight top that was manually tied at her cleavage. "This is my very good friend, Alan." All eyes were upon me, the girls smiled warmly. "I know Rachel from college," he continued. "And she's the tallest girl I know with the best legs in the land."
"Oh Tommy stop it," the tall red head said coyly.
"What are you drinking Alan?" Tom asked me.
"Eh just a beer please,"
Tom stood up. "Sit down Al. They don't bite, well, Rachel does but that's a long story." They all laughed again; I sat down next to the smaller of the two girls and Tom disappeared from view.
"What do you do Alan?" I was asked.
This always embarrassed me, but I was too honest for my own good. "I sell lawnmowers."
The two girls looked at each other, stifling a giggle I am sure. "Well I'm a nurse and she's still at college," Toni said. I couldn't help watching her prominent cleavage as she spoke. I tried to ascertain if they could be the same size as the ones I had moments ago had in my grasp - they must be close. The polite banter soon dried up after an explanation of how, with the lawnmower business being seasonal, we had to do other equally exciting things such as renting carpet cleaners and industrial equipment. Although I tried not to make it obvious I had breasts on the mind, when Toni yawned I cast my eyes downwards once again and took in as much of the shadowed area between them as I could.
Thankfully Tom returned to bolster the conversation and protect the girls from death through boredom. They greeted him with gratitude for the drinks that he spread about the table. Then he was off and running: charming and outspoken, holding the constant attention of the two young girls.
We kind of turned into a foursome for the rest of the evening and I was nervous of being seen by anyone who knew of my relationship with Jane. I would have packed myself off for an early night to lessen the chance of being seen, but I just couldn't tear myself away from opportunity of being in the line of sight of Toni's tits.
Finally last orders were called and a decision on what to do next was to be made. Tom made it quick: "Right, its all back to Toni's place to continue the drinking!"
By this time I'd had enough alcohol, so attempted to request a coffee when we arrived at her third floor flat. The place was decorated as only a girl would decorate - but pleasant and very cozy for this time of the evening. The coffee was refused on the grounds that it would be too boring. Who was I to fight off that ever-present peer pressure, so I opted for a small measure of whiskey that once in my hand turned out to be filled to the rim and void of dilution.
Upbeat music was chosen but lasted only two songs when Rachel changed it for a slow softer sound. Her intention was becoming obvious as she took residence on the same seat as Tom. By natural selection, I tried to keep Toni entertained, wondering if I should mention my looming marriage. I chose not to and continued to treat her to some lawnmower selling anecdotes. She sat on the floor by the fire, close enough for me to keep a budding interest on her breasts, but too far to emulate what Tom and Rachel were starting. They were treating each other to the whispering of `sweet nothings' and occasional stolen kisses. Rachel's legs were stretched out to full length as she sat on Tom's knee, turned in to face him.
I could see that Toni was taking more of a passing interest in events on that side of the room. Even as I spoke directly to her, she watched her friend enjoying the closeness of Tom. I shut up and joined her in observing our respective acquaintances.
Silent moments passed, broken only by soft murmurings and sighs from the couple within our view. I turned to steal another look at Toni, sat with her legs curled under her rear; the tightness of her skirt gripping her thighs, giving me a fresh voyeuristic fortuity. Her sex appeal stung me as overpowering; the relaxed and warm atmosphere in the room, along with the added incentive of alcohol induced confidence, spelt out the next move I was to make. I made for the floor, smiling as I lay in the proximity of Toni. She was startled, but not enough to send me on my way. Perhaps she too thought that this was the right thing to do given the circumstances. She relaxed and I suppose awaited my next brave move. When no move was forthcoming, she helped me out by stretching out her legs and moving into a more comfortable position. My mouth became uninvitingly dry as I took in the sight. I'm not sure if it were her or me that brought our bodies even closer to a point of significant contact. Fact to face, side by side, suddenly one of my hands was on her skirt, feeling the coolness of the material. She sensed me tremble but helped me out again by guiding this hand upward to come to rest on one of the breasts I had spent the evening eyeing so blatantly. She circled my hand for me, demonstrating the way she wanted it touched. A wicked smile appeared and she signaled me silently to turn and observe the goings on to the rear of me. There was Rachel with her skirt hem now waist high, kneeling across Tom on the chair. It was difficult to see for sure, but it was pretty obvious that he was actually fucking her. His trousers were still on but his fly was undone and they were truly joined at the hips, gyrating very slowly; grinding and swaying gently. The expression on Tom's face was one of concentration. I could only see the back of Rachel's head, but by the sound she emitted, we both knew what she thought of this activity.
Whilst I continued watching my friend skillfully fucking the lean redhead, I didn't notice Toni slip a hand through my own now open trouser front. Then I was aware of her touch directly on my cock. Her other hand had unclipped the back of her skirt and she was peeling it down over her bare legs. Tom had seen this happening and managed a smile in acknowledgment.
As shell-shocked as I was, once Toni's semi nakedness was finally revealed to me, I complied with the directing of my hand to the top of her raised thighs. She then left me to me own devices, with decisions to be made about what direction to take. A kiss was now upon me, so my hand took the only course of action left open to it - slipping under the elastic of her tiny panties to the warm area inside. This area was decidedly damper than that of the object that lay at home in my own bed. Her thighs clamped around my hand, drawing it upwards. She squeezed nonchalantly on my cock to indicate approval of my interest in the inner areas of her body. But the squeeze took me to the point of no return and I spurted a small quantity of fluid across her wrist. This time she was startled and showed no sign of regaining the composure she'd shown when I'd first lain down beside her. She quickly withdrew her hand and sat bolt upright, giving a thunderous expression of disdain.
I quickly fumbled my bewildered penis back into my trouser front, turning away from her as I did so. I saw Rachel looking over from on top of Tom, her hand over her mouth to conceal the most obvious laugh I'd ever witnessed. She quickly concentrated back on her own situation, not before whispering something into Tom's ear.
Toni had run out the room and I was left alone, ashamed and emotionally exposed. I stared expressionlessly at the floor, listening to Rachel's moaning increasing in volume and frequency. My plight was bad; the future loomed gloomily - instead of evoking the excitement a marriage to the woman you love should do.
Rachel let out one final wail, and I couldn't resist looking over. Her head was thrown back and she was biting hard on her top lip. Tom's eyes were closed and his face contorted as he stopped himself from joining in the sexual chorus. She flopped forwards and they hugged stilly for a moment. When she began to move off Tom, her long legs merely inching backwards, I saw Tom's cock unplug itself with a pop from her grateful body. They were both smiling contentedly, watching each other's eyes closely for endorsement of their mutual satisfaction. They both found what they were looking for, and Rachel smoothed back down her skirt, her eyes still not leaving Tom's. "I'll just go and check on Toni," she said in a hoarse whisper like she had almost lost the ability to speak properly.
Tom nodded and remained silent until she had left the room. Once the door closed, he looked towards me as he made the effort to tuck back his cock inside his trousers. I saw now the difference he'd spoke of earlier; his cock, even now a disappearing hard on, was immense, quite significantly larger than the times I recalled seeing it flaccid, and much over twice the length of my very own. Right now to think of my cock was the worst thing to do, I was definitely not going to speak to it for a while - after all - it had let me down in public.
"What's with you mate?" he said, once safely tucked away.
"Well I wasn't expecting this to happen. I guess I lost it a bit. Must be the drink."
"But if you had went through it earlier with Mandy, then you should have been a bit desensitized, surely."
"Well I didn't exactly have much luck there either."
He looked confused, but I thought that now wasn't the right moment to go into the details of my liaison with Mandy.
"Tom!" Rachel shouted for Tom from behind the shut door. He walked over to open it, adjusting his crotch crudely as he stood.
"What's up Rachel?"
"Could you help Toni out a minute?" She asked.
I could hear Rachel's voice, but she remained outside the room. Tom hesitated, considering something. "What do you mean honey?"
"Well she's in a kind of bad way you see," she continued. "I thought you might be able to do something for her."
Tom turned to look back at me. "Oops mate," he said. "It would seem that my services are required for a female in distress." He gave me a wink and shut the door behind him.
From the room and the crouched position in which I remained, I could hear Toni's distress being relieved. She was certainly nosier than Rachel had been. But perhaps the privacy of a bedroom had allowed a more creative session to ensue.
I wondered where Rachel had gone off to, when she opened the door and entered the room with two steaming cups of coffee.
"Here you go Alan," she spoke to me. "They'll not be too long I hope." She smiled on hearing a particularly loud scream echoing down the hallway.
As we waited, conversation was scarce, eye contact was even rarer, but I committed myself to drinking the coffee as hot as I could to take my mind off this painful episode.
When they both came back into the room, I was glad to see that an effort was being made to bring things back to normality. Tom made some skillful small talk that brought everyone back onto even terms. I even found myself sobering up and enjoying the feeling of the attention being directed away from any sexual goings on.
"You'll have to get this sorted out," Tom said to me as we walked back towards my house. It was still dark, but only just as the wee small hours turned into bigger numbers. We hesitated outside my bedroom door, remembering the presence that lay inside.
"What about Mandy?" I said, my hand reaching out to the door handle.
"So what happened before?" he whispered.
I told him about my attempt to couple with the doll. If he was amused, he made a good job of hiding it.
"Oh shit," he remarked. "So you came before you had a chance to penetrate?"
I nodded. "I kept the light off and I suppose my body was fooled into believing it was the real thing, so acted accordingly."
"Mmm, this is worse that I thought."
"But I liked the feeling of the doll."
"I thought you hadn't properly felt it."
"I hadn't, I mean its tits and pussy."
"What you mean you fingered it?" This time he failed to hide his amusement. "Come on, let's both go and meet her now."
With that I opened the door and we entered the bedroom. The duvet covered the doll, just a glimpse of dark hair could be seen on the pillow.
"I'm going to help you mate, I promise you." He said. "Right come on, take your trousers off."
"God Tom, I can't do that." I protested.
"Just do it Alan. You've seen me screwing a girl. There is nothing to hide, it's the only way I can help you sort this out."
I pondered momentarily; thinking that what Tom knew about me couldn't really be any more embarrassing than going along with whatever he was about to suggest.
"Alright," I nodded, and dimmed the light switch. I sat on the edge of the bed and removed my trousers as instructed. My penis hung limp and sticky against my testicles. "This may be difficult, you know, to get it bigger."
He politely didn't look between my legs as I remained sat on the bed.
"Well this might do it, " he began. "Imagine Jane on your wedding night removing her long white dress. She stands before you, stockings and a bra that keeps a firm grasp of her swollen breasts. She's aching to find out about the pleasures that can be got by feeling you deep inside her, but she's nervous and needs you to lead the way. You take her hand and pull her into you. Her curves are against your body. Here is the woman you love just about to offer her virginity to you - the way she looks, you know, would drive any man wild; any man. But you've got her and you sure as hell want this to last as long as you can. She takes one step back from you. She's close enough so you can still feel her breath, warm and slightly laboured against your cheeks. He hands crisscross over her chest. In unison, they pull down the straps that hold her breasts from sight. Her bra falls. She's now looking so deeply into your eyes, she's offering you her body completely."
I looked down at my cock, stirring into some kind of life as Tom continued to plant this image in my head. I cleared my throat. "Right Tom, I think I am ready."
He now cast his eyes to see what all the fuss is about. His face grimaces slightly. "Alan, he says. "It is small isn't it?"
I look down to where his eyes have befallen. My cock, standing in a semi erect position, lifted slightly from its usual resting position. "Well maybe compared to yours Tom," I tell him, managing a smile to give me back some of the confidence he just knocked out of me. "It's not just the length Alan," he goes on. "But it's really thin, I mean really thin." His eyes are especially examining me from across the room, and then he suddenly remembers what we are trying to accomplish. "Right. Come on then slip under the duvet and let's give this a shot."
Although I felt quite tired, and my body was overwhelmed by an early morning sobering up sensation, I concentrated in following the instructions of my experienced friend. I lay down next to Mandy, this time aware of the strong smell of rubber, and pulled the duvet back over us.
"Right," Tom continued, taking on the tone of a schoolteacher. "For now, that's Jane lying beside you and she's nervous about what's going to happen. So you reassure her with some soft kissing and a slow caress of her neck and arms. Don't go straight for her tits, give he a chance to relax." He pauses in order observe if I am listening. "Go on then Alan, start it off."
I begin to kiss the latex material of the cheek, deviating from his direction by running my fingers through the fine hair on the head. I hear him acknowledge my progress, and both my hands disappear under the duvet to initiate the foreplay.
"So does she feel good to you? Are you getting any harder than you were?" he asks me in a quite whisper. I don't turn around to him, but manage to nod my head as I work my lips on the neck. "OK then," he continues, satisfied that I am past the first phase. "Maybe brush very softly against her breasts as if by mistake while you feel her side. They're bigger then Jane's aren't they?" I can't resist stealing a bit more than a slight touch of her breasts, but Alan couldn't see exactly what my hands were up to. I squeeze a palm directly across one of the unmistakably firm tits, the feeling fooling my cock into thinking that Mandy is as real as it gets. It works, and I feel my cock perk up in agreement of my actions.
Suddenly I feel a draft on my back as I realised that Tom has pulled the duvet off the bed. "I thought so, " he says, "that hand of yours is getting you carried away, slow down man." My hand withdraws from its attention to her breasts, and I wonder if I can actually continue this with my friend seeing it all.
"Right, OK, lets not worry about that now, I don't want to spoil the mood here," he suddenly assures me, perhaps sensing my discomfort. "Try a finger and tease the outer part of that pussy there, I can see your getting worked up. Maybe we should cut back on the foreplay and see if that helps things for now."
I'm thankful that he has decided to take this course of action, thinking that the most embarrassing thing would be to come before I got the chance to enter her. "Slowly, very slowly, roll on top of her as you work a finger in to get her ready for you." My hand is already one step ahead of him and feeling its way through the pubic hair. I remembered the feeling from before as a single digit presses its way directly inward and upward, the ease of movement through the soft waxy surface, almost inviting more fingers to join the first one. I gently massaged the finger back and fourth. "That's it Alan," Tom said, she's ready for you now."
I was ready too and moved my whole body across the dolls, using my spare hand to open the legs. "This is important Alan." Tom began speaking quietly again. "Try blocking out what you're doing from your head. Think some un-sexy thoughts, try saying the alphabet backwards." I knew what he was saying made some kind of sense, so I aligned my thoughts away from the perfect body below me. I removed my hand from between the legs and took up the only fucking position I knew. My cock slowly entered where my finger had been, the latex material widening easily, the cavity receiving me as it was designed to do.
"Now slowly Alan. Slowly!" Tom's voice was louder now, and I realised he had to do this to be heard over the beginnings of my own moaning. "Slowly move your hips," he shouted again. I began the movement, my mind in turmoil to try and ignore the wonderful feeling that was building. I was on my third mild thrust when I could hold back no more. Conscious that I had an audience, I tried to avoid clenching my buttocks as the orgasm rippled through me. As my fluids leaked out for the third time that night, embarrassment and shame forced me to grapple for the duvet to conceal my quivering torso. I could hear Tom voicing his disappointment, but he tactfully attempted to offer some encouragement at the same time. "OK Alan, it's OK, we'll get there, you're obviously just a horny bastard." I couldn't look up to meet his eyes, scared that I would discover his true reaction. He continued contributing some forced encouragement before telling me he would see me later on. The words "Don't worry mate" rang through my head as I heard the door close behind him.
3 I met Jane for lunch later on that day. She kept asking me if I was feeling well, saying I looked worn out. I did feel tired and my head throbbed constantly, but my thoughts were locked on my impending wedding night, a nervous churning dwelling deep in my stomach. The more I looked at her, the more the feeling persisted; the shape of her breasts uncharacteristically obvious today, and her bum covered tightly in light blue denim. I saw the challenge ahead of me: to satisfy this beautiful woman who was soon to be my bride.
Jane had no idea of the sexual presence she possessed. Being a man, I regularly observed other men glancing admiringly at her - despite her usual propensity for wearing non- flattering clothing. She simply skipped through life oblivious to the power she could impart on anyone of her choosing. I was lucky in the fact that I had merely been in the right place at the right time, when her ****** thought it wise she take a husband. But I wanted things to be perfect for us. We did talk about sex occasionally; and given the right mood, she would tell me of her excitement of beginning that part of married life. She admitted that, despite her sheltered upbringing, she had touched herself in bed and found the feeling entirely pleasurable. Since hearing this from her, I had used the image of her nervously fingering herself during many of my own wanks, although I had not shared this with her. She did however know of my one time experience with a woman and found this acceptable, saying that at least one of us would know what they were doing. I sensed that once we were wed, if I managed to introduce her to a decent sex life, then she would develop a hearty appetite for more of the same. I longed for that moment, but due to my recent activities, I envisaged it being more difficult than I had always believed.
The idea came to me after the next few attempts to increase my staying power through use of Mandy and her various holes had failed. Each time, I allowed myself time to mentally prepare - I concentrated intensely, trying various modifications to my technique. I tried rear entry, tried bouncing Mandy on top me, tried it standing, sitting, kneeling; with condoms, rubber rings, lubricant, desensitising cream. I spent four full days after feigning illness to get off work - morning, noon and night - on the floor, against the wall, on the hard chair, soft char, and carpet - even in the bath. Mandy never complained, but each new erection ended with a brief session, me puffing and irritated waiting for my next erection to arrive. After the second day, I just needed to look at Mandy and my thoughts would turn to screwing her - but my excitement, like my hardons was short lived once I penetrated her plastic pussy. I even took to dressing her up in underwear or fully clothing her and going through the process of undressing her before mounting - trying to catch her off guard. The underwear actually made it worse; Mandy looked perfect in black stockings; once or twice I had relapsed and soiled the stocking tops whilst journeying to my very temporary home.
In all the times I went through the motion of making love to my `practice' girlfriend, I never got beyond five light thrusts. A few times I tried increasing the speed in order to beat my own personal best, but got to all of three thrusts before the inevitable happened. Admittedly, if I did it this way I could continue the momentum for another six or seven jabs before my cock wilted and the action became futile. Perhaps I could fool her into believing she'd been the recipient of ten rapid thrusts before I had intentionally called it a day.
When Tom came round to assess my progress, I refused to give him a demonstration. He saw the bucket load of tissues by my bed and remarked that I'd been a busy boy. After half an hour of avoiding answering his inquiry, I finally came clean and blurted out dishearteningly that I wasn't improving. He displayed genuine concern and tried to make me feel better by saying it may be different when it came to `real' practice. I was not convinced. He said he would dispose of Mandy for me, theorising that if I forgot about it entirely then it could make it easier. He was a true friend, I saw that, but I couldn't bear to let Mandy go.
It was then I made the suggestion: Would he take her virginity for me on our wedding night? He was speechless to say the least, confused by my despairing proposal. I explained that if we set it up properly then we could fool Jane into thinking it was me.
"And how the hell would we do that?" he asked, looking at me seriously, almost questioning my sanity.
"Well we're bound to do it with the lights off that's for sure." I replied.
"But how?" he protested.
"You could be in the bathroom. I could say I need the toilet and we could swap over then." It was a simple theory, one that at that moment I believed could work. "We're of the same build, well most of us. If you get a haircut and have a close shave, then I'm sure we'd pull it off. Theirs no way Jane would ever suspect foul play." We both fell silent for an extended minute. I could see his expression was one of deep thought and obvious consideration of my idea.
"But afterwards?"
"Well we swap back as right away."
"No I mean, the next time you do it."
"Yes but by then she will have the lasting memory of the session with you. I'm sure she'll forgive me a few failed sessions. And she'll be eager for some of that practice that we have been talking so much about."
"God Alan, it will never work," he said. "Or would it? Oh hell I don't know." I could sense he was in the process of convincing himself. I let him ramble for a few minutes, gong through the pros and cons of carrying out such a preposterous idea. He finally joined me once again in silent deliberation.
"I may regret this," he eventually stated. "Well you may regret it more than me but OK, let's do it."
I had talked him around. It would work.
4 That evening I spent in the company of Jane and her parents. Jane and myself were comfortably close on the couch and her mum and *** sat opposite us in silence gripped in a tense game of scrabble. I developed an erection that would not disappear as my thoughts continually altered from Mandy lying patiently at home waiting for me and the scheme Tom and I had developed earlier. I couldn't decide between the two distinctly different thoughts, which one was exciting me more. The image of Tom screwing my pretty new wife certainly got my heart thumping at an incredible rate - thundering the blood straight down to my penis. And the memory and knowledge that after I said goodnight to Jane I could go home to a sure thing with Mandy. The first thought gave me the erection and the later one helped keep it in place. I was sorely tempted to make a quick visit to the toilet to dwell on the thoughts in private but I resisted - enjoying the warmth inside the crotch of my jeans.
"Your quiet tonight honey," Jane whispered so as not to disturb her parents concentration. "I've a lot on my mind, " I replied, capturing an instant thought of Jane whispering in this way to Tom but thinking it was me. The anticipation was building with just four days to go until our big day. I recalled the girls from the other night; of seeing or rather hearing the reaction Tom brought about from the girl who sat on his lap. Would Jane emit similar noises? Would she come with Tom? Would her first time be all that she anticipated? I rather hoped she would and would gain a taste for more of the same.
As Jane said goodbye to me at the front door we joined in a lengthy kiss. She whispered to me that she was eager to be together as man and wife - a way that only she could put it. Actually during the kiss I was aware of her breathing intensifying and face flushing to a degree I had never witnessed before. I genuinely believed she was longing to begin her long awaited sex life. I couldn't help but imagine how wet she must be right then - to a point where she would be confused, due to her lifelong innocence, about how her body was reacting - but liking the feeling and hoping for more and more.
As I walked home I found a new urgency in my pace. The friction on my erection, helped along by this thought of Jane's body being at the disposal of Tom, ultimately made me come. I paused for a moment in the dimly lit street and allowed the pulsating to cease. I was thankful that the street was quiet - realising how my grimacing face might look to a passerby.
As the erection I'd maintained for the majority of the evening began to dwindle, I felt it retract through the stickiness that was now present inside my boxer shorts. I had to disappoint Mandy when I finally tumbled into bed and I opted for a simple uncomplicated cuddle instead. Through the night however I felt that familiar twitch leading to me being thrown into instant wakefulness which could only be halted by one thing. I'm sure Mandy didn't even stir as I gleefully poked my cock into her ever-ready hole. The digital clock by my bedside gave the game away - the digits signifying the minutes remaining the same at the beginning and end of my connection with her.
Tom arrived early the next morning. I was aware of a light knocking - intruding within the half trance I had managed to put myself in at some point through my designated sleep period. The usually simple process of getting off to sleep had become a long haul - taking my every effort to lessen the alertness my body had decided it desired. But the knocking soon made enough sense to force a growl as indication of my presence within the room. It took a hefty grasp of my shoulder to finally bring me around.
"Hey man, wakey wakey." I heard Tom's voice cooing lightly.
I stirred, remembering Mandy's presence in my bed. Too late.
"You still enjoying the company of that heavenly doll?"
"Just kind of used to it being there now," I told him as I hoisted myself up onto my elbows.
"Well get yourself dressed then. We're going shopping."
I did wonder exactly what he meant, but decided not to ask until I was in more of state to take it in.
When I did finally rise completely I was more than aware of Tom checking out my naked torso. I grappled with a pair of boxer shorts in a desperate urge to conceal my usually concealed parts.
"I guess that our bodies are similar," he told me. "But Alan, I'm afraid that one bit may be a give away."
"Do you really think it will be noticed?" I asked him, finally hiding the part to which he referred.
He just nodded, but I could see there were many thoughts firing away behind his eyes. I sat on the edge of the bed next to Mandy; her opened mouth expression - the gape I'd kissed so often now - seemed like a smile - a large smile - as it happened too large to be any good for its intention - but a good size for dragging your tongue around. Her breasts were bared also; the softness in design of the fleshy parts that always kept their shape - culminating in the peak of each nipple, constantly erect - usually the focus of my attentive gaze when mounted atop her lean figure.
"Would you like to see it properly?" he asked me.
I turned back to face my friend, knowing exactly what the `it' was but not wanting to appear too eager. We watched each other's eyes for a sign of something - positive or negative it would have been good to see some kind of sign, but none was evident, I suppose it seemed quite logical to see exactly what was going to be gifted to my wife on our wedding night. I broke the silence: "But I have seen it before."
"Yea."
Another moment of watchful silence as I imagined again how it looked. "Well I suppose I haven't seen it close up." I managed a laugh in between my words. "But I suppose it's important to see what I have to live up too afterwards." I sustained the laughter, offering some light to a strangely serious moment between friends.
"Hell I know what would
