Still nothing.
His laptop is open near the pillows, a video playing across the screen.
The room in the video frame looks familiar. Same curtains and bedside lamp. Same hardwood floor.
Then my brain catches up to what I’m actually looking at.
The camera angle is low, pointed toward the floor beside the bed. Some man is on his hands and knees, a dark silicone dildo suctioned against the hardwood beneath him.
I recognize the body immediately.
The frame catches the line of his back, thighs spread wide while he moves against the toy in slow, rough strokes, cock hanging beneath him with every movement. The sounds coming through the laptop speakers are raw and wet. Broken moans dragged out of him between uneven breaths. Silicone sliding against slick skin. A sharp groan every time he drops down harder onto it.
And, spread out neatly on the bed, is a collection of toys.
One is a dark silicone dildo. I recognize it immediately. I’ve watched and jerked off on that exact same one too many times.
Next to it, a set of graduated anal beads is laid out in a straight line. Each bead is slightly larger than the last, made of black silicone with a glossy finish. They start small enough to ignore and end thick enough that my jaw tightens.
Two plugs sit near the edge of the bed. One is metallic rose gold with a weighted jewel base. The other is deep purple, heavier in the body, with a firm taper and a wide base that looks like it’ll stay locked in place no matter how much the body moves.
Then there are the newer items from the parcel, still carrying the faint sterile smell of fresh packaging and warehouse plastic.
One is a slim anal vibrator with a curved head clearly designed for one very specific job. A small wireless remote rests beside it, black and discreet enough to look like it belongs to a car alarm.
Another is a fat dark red dildo, shorter but noticeably thicker through the middle, covered in raised spirals that twist up toward the blunt head.
And then there’s the strangest one.
Black and green silicone, alien-looking as fuck. Thick through the center with soft raised ridges running along the shaft and a narrow-hooked base designed to lock it deep inside. It looks aggressive enough that I immediately understand why he sounded nervous about it.
“Okay,” Lance says aloud, picking up the alien-shaped dildo and angling it toward the phone camera. “This one honestly looked way less threatening online.”
He sets it back down carefully and reaches for the red one, turning the box over to read the side.
“Jesus Christ!‘Advanced thrust technology.’What the fuck does that even mean? Why does it sound military?”
Despite myself, my mouth twitches.
Lance shakes his head at the box with deep personal disappointment. “Am I buying a prostate toy or getting drafted into combat?”
Lance is holding both dildos, turning them slowly like he’s trying to decide which one to destroy himself with first.
I shift my weight once and immediately regret it. I almost lost my balance from leaning in too far to get a closer look.
He sets the red one down, reaches down and lifts the hem of the towel, and pulls his cock out. He starts stroking—slow at first, then firmer, thumb sliding over the head on every upstroke. A low, rough sigh escapes him as he tilts his head back, eyes half-closed, clearly lost in it while the video of himself keeps playing on the laptop.
“You reviewing sex toys professionally now?”
Lance freezes. He yanks his hand away from his cock like it burned him, but it’s too late. I’ve seen everything.
He turns slowly after that. Slow enough that I know he already knows exactly what he’s about to see. The second he sees me standing there, his eyes go huge.
Silence hits the room for a second.
Then, with absolutely no dignity whatsoever, he yelps and throws the nearest pillow at my face.
I catch it without looking at it, then toss it on the floor.
