The new generation chooses...

After those words, Brandon appeared in my life. "Brandon" — maybe it sounds silly, because he took that name after watching my favorite movie "Boys Don't Cry," where that's what the main character was called. He could have come up with something of his own, more original... But, in the end, guys aren't always known for their originality.

And also — and this is more important —

he is impossibly handsome and full of hidden sexuality... hidden only until he sees me... hmm... His short dark-blond hair, gray-blue eyes, soft lips, and charming little heart-shaped face with a slightly pointed chin slowly but surely drive me crazy every day. He always wears loose plaid shirts, wide jeans, and heavy leather jackets. He smokes the strongest cigarettes, strums his guitar with an almost absent look, trying to charm me even more... though how much more could there be?..

And today, when I came to visit him again after work, he told me with a sly squint in his eyes that he had something special for me. "Science is working for us, baby! Now we can get pleasure at the same time, like we've been dreaming of for so long..."

And he showed me a thing that seemed a bit strange at first glance — flesh-colored, soft to the touch, on one side — shaped like a beautiful, about 17-18 centimeters long, cock, and on the other side there was something slightly bumpy, a bit shorter, but no less exciting.

— This is... a "next-generation strap-on" — that's what the online ad said. But it seems to me that we really can love each other with this thing much better than before... what do you think?

— Come on, my sweet... Unbutton my pants, and I'll do the rest myself... — Brandon whispered, holding the "next-generation product" in his hands.

Ah, darling... How many times have I unbuttoned that rough belt with the heavy buckle, but you never let me go further. After which you would caress me with your tongue, tenderly and passionately, but as soon as I reached out my hands to you, you would immediately slap me on the shoulder, not too painfully, but noticeably. That was our sign — it meant "No," if either of us didn't like what the other was doing.

I unbuttoned it. Pulled those damn jeans off...

— Come on, let me help you. It'll hurt you... uh... shoving something like that in yourself?..

— No... I'll do it myself.

He turned away, and after a couple of seconds I heard a moan... a satisfied moan, tender, and slightly hoarse.

— Come to me, sunshine.

... He slowly, tenderly enters me, and then, just as slowly at first, as if lazily, Brandon's cock moves inside me. "My sensual dick..." — as he himself called it at that moment. He alternately kisses my lips, then my breasts, already quite impatiently... and looks into my eyes the whole time. And I finally see that he is also enjoying himself...

He sped up the pace... finally... Moving like crazy, in impatient anticipation of his own orgasm... I hear your hoarse cries, my stupid wet squelching... I dissolve in this sweet and carnal.

— Did you feel good with me just now, darling?

— I felt fucking amazing.

— There you go with your swearing again... Can't you express yourself more politely?

— Of course I can. But I am a man after all... can I allow myself to swear when I feel like it, in the end?..

Now I can do whatever I want with you. Even if...

I unbutton the shirt. The bandage. The elastic bandage he uses to bind his tender number one breasts. Small, plump, like little balls... with tender, tiny little nipples. I gently ran my fingers over one of them, and then, unable to resist, ran my tongue around the nipple... He breathed heavily. Even if you kicked me, like you used to when I wanted to see your chest — even that wouldn't stop me now.

Sally turned onto her right side and tried to fall asleep. After all, it's really silly — to dream about that mean girl Nancy with the short-cut blond hair. The one who is a year younger in school, wears plaid shirts, swears with or without reason, and smokes strong cigarettes. And also, as soon as Sally is near her, she looks at her with sad eyes, in which a faint spark of desire flickers... But that only seems so to Sally — what else could seem that way to such a hypersexual and bisexual girl as she is?..