Battery Operated Boyfriend
BATTERY OPERATED BOYFRIEND – an erotic story of discovering your own body and buying your very first toy… BOB…
Well, I did it. I bought B.O.B., Battery Operated Boyfriend, vibrator, whatever. The box says muscle massager… yeah right! This is all part of my drawn-out sexual exploration. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve been masturbating for as long as I can remember. I can recall as a tot, describing my new discovery to my mother, how doing this, and that made me feel like I had to pee.
I also remember the distressed look on my mother’s face that suggested maybe this was not the best thing to talk about. I once had to share a room with my brothers in a cabin and while I was making my little cot shake, my older brothers laughed and wondered out loud what the heck I was doing. If my discussion of this is arousing to you, STOP THAT! I’m merely trying to demonstrate that little boys are not the only ones with sexual curiosity.
Not only did I explore my body, but I also explored the house. I found Dad’s Playboys, which were pretty tame in the late ’60s, although because I only looked at one or two pictures, I never found the center-fold. In my middle school years, I was looking for makeup remover in my parents’ bathroom and found a ‘dirty’ desk calendar with jokes and drawings.
My father found me sitting on the floor next to the open drawer, and I saw that look of silent distress once again. I was in high school when I found a collection of short stories by Anais Nin. If you don’t know who she is, look her up, you won’t be disappointed. I don’t know if that was at home or at my great aunt’s summer cottage when I found that, but it doesn’t matter. I should have taken that as a confirmation that interest in erotica was not new to my family.
Even as I got older, I found several books of erotic art as I was hanging one of my father’s suits back in his closet, and it still did not occur to me that it was okay to be sexual. I merely translated it as it was okay for my father to be sexual. Despite that, I enjoyed these glimpses of what I perceived to be forbidden pleasures.
Since I was still a virgin and knew very little of what a man could do for me sexually, it was the pictures of women masturbating that were most arousing. I can still see in my mind the Japanese drawing of a woman straddling a low tree branch, lying on it like wild cats do, rubbing herself against the rough bark. It was the little smile of contentment that triggered a thought. Maybe I was supposed to enjoy what I was doing.
So ultimately, it was not any sense that sex was wrong that inhibited me, but the awareness that sex was private. Through the clumsiness of my first sexual experiences, past the dry spells, and the acceptance that maybe the timing wasn’t good for finding Mr. Right, but I could be satisfied with Mr. Right Now … through all these things, I kept quiet. I hid my light under a bushel until now. So yesterday, I went looking for B.O.B.
It sounds silly, and it is. If I wanted a vibrator, I should have gotten one, ages ago. Who cares? How many women have done just what I have? Why was it such a big deal? It’s funny now. I walked into the novelty store, with its tarot cards and artificial vomit and sex toys. I stood by the display, they have several sizes you know. The standard one is seven inches, while there is a narrow one 5″ long, but about 2″ of that is the handle. I’m guessing it’s for anal stimulation.
Then there’s the Oh-My-God size. (My father uses that phrase for any economy-sized package but I think it’s especially appropriate here.) I think that’s the 9″ one, and it’s thicker than the standard. Just keep it away from me. They also have glow in the dark. I went in once during their Valentine’s Day promotion and saw the specialty vibrators … hoooeee!!
They also had `massage kits’ with oils and such which had vibrators included, and I was tempted to get one of those because it didn’t announce to the world, `I’m buying a vibrator!!!!’ However, the kit would have been more expensive and besides, that was cheating. So I picked a 7″ standard vibrator. No frills, made in China, not even a UL certification, I’d have to keep it out of the shower.
So I was ready to check out… not quite.
I was still feeling awkward, so I cheated a little bit. I picked out a gift bag, one of those mini shopping bags people use if they are genetically unable to wrap gifts. It had this buff guy wearing next to nothing and a message saying “Happy Birthday!” on it.
The thing I keep noticing is that he’s shaved under his arms, I find it distracts from his manly image. So I go up to the counter with the illusion of buying a silly gift for a friend. I have enough sense to avoid saying anything but “Good Afternoon” to the young man behind the counter. He’s well built and tall with a spiky blond flat top.
“You’re going to need batteries for that,” he says.
“I guess you’re right.” To my amazement, I’m not blushing.
“I’ll get them for you,” the young man says as he moves from behind the counter.
Burn the witch…
I manage to look nonchalant with all these thirteen-year-old boys standing by ogling plastic turds. The first time I bought condoms, and then when I bought non-latex condoms, I had seen young boys standing nearby. Both times, I had to spend a while reading boxes to make certain I had what I was looking for, and I felt awkward. Fortunately, just like on `Wild Kingdom,’ they were more intimidated by me than I was of them. I looked to make sure Marlin Perkins wasn’t watching from the safety of a blind somewhere. The salesman returned with the batteries and he rang up my purchases without comment.
So finally, B.O.B. and I could be alone together. We wandered the mall for a while and had coffee before we went home. I wanted to spend some time alone with B.O.B. before my roommate came home. I went to my bedroom and undressed. I took B.O.B. out of his package, and he was remarkably simple. There wasn’t even a switch, just a metal plate inside a screw top, just like a flashlight, simpler in fact. When I screwed the base all the way on, zzzzznnnnnnn….
For a moment, I thought that this might be an excellent alternative to the flashlight in teaching basic electrical circuits. I used to be a high school science teacher and I chuckled at the thought of the students’ rapt attention until the principal and parents came for me, torches and pitchforks in hand. The cry, “Burn the witch!” echoed in my head as I slid my hand down my belly.
I let B.O.B. watch for a while, as I found my clitoris. I reached down farther to see if I was wet yet. There was moisture down there, but it was watery and not the thicker, slippery fluid that indicated real arousal. As I lay on my back, one hand cradled a full breast and began teasing the nipple, running my nails lightly over the top. The other hand between my legs, two fingers rubbing my clitoris in small circles.
If you haven’t noticed this by now, there seems to be a direct connection between a woman’s breasts and her pussy. Suck, roll, or pinch her nipples in the right way, and her PV? (PC? PVC?) muscle will clench, and trust me, this is a good thing. I felt the tingling, aching sensations of arousal build, in fact, I’m feeling that way right now, as I recount it.
Now it’s time for B.O.B.’s maiden voyage. I don’t turn him on right away, feeling the smooth plastic as I press it along my vulva. B.O.B. is featureless, lacking a head or a foreskin or other attributes found on a living, male penis, and I’m a bit disappointed. B.O.B. feels cool against my skin as I slide him in. He enters smoothly, and I can feel his presence inside me. I turn the base, zzzzzzzznnnnnnnnn… Oh my!
I feel the buzzing and yes, it’s exciting. I grin to myself. I feel it most in the fleshy lips on either side of my vagina and by the sensitive entrance to my ass. I don’t yet feel it near my clitoris and I rub the little bud with my free hand, but it’s more difficult to move around since the flesh of my vulva is pulled tighter to make room for B.O.B. I begin to move B.O.B. in and out of me. I feel the sensations change and my body does not have time to get used to them, and the tension I seek begins to build again.
I pull B.O.B. towards me and he vibrates against my pubic bone, oh yes, that’s good, and slide him up to my clitoris. I jump a little and my legs twitch as I feel a jolt of intense pleasure at the apex of my sexual landscape. B.O.B. lies lengthwise between my inner lips, with his tip pressed against the far wall of my entrance. I roll him back and forth over my clitoris, keeping myself from getting used to the sensations. I feel the muscles clenching and pleasurable sensations build, this is going to be very nice.
I slide B.O.B. down and into me again, I’m more wet now, but I take my time, feeling him buzz against the path between my lips, which is also sensitive in it’s own way. I arch and roll my head back as B.O.B.
triggers another jolt. Whether it’s with B.O.B. or flesh and blood lovers, those intense but expected moments are the most cherished and most aggravating in their unpredictability.
I resume thrusting B.O.B. in and out of me. I grip at him, to feel him press harder against my walls. I tilt him and feel the tip push against the sides and …oh… against my ass. I hold him up against my pubic bone, which squeezes the flesh between two hard surfaces. This is the so-called g-spot, and yes, it feels very nice, *smile*. However, I’m growing impatient, and I pull B.O.B. out to rub against my sensitive nub, my legs trembling.
I’m getting close and I revert to the very first style of masturbating I’ve ever practiced. I slid B.O.B. back inside me and rolled over on my belly. I clenched my legs together, tensing my entire body below the waist. I rubbed my clitoris from the side, not even slipping my fingers between the moist, fleshy fold. With my other hand, I held a pillow next to me and buried my face in it. I felt B.O.B.’s buzzing deep inside me and the pressure of him as I clenched around him. In this tense, feverish posture, I felt the aching pleasure build to a satisfying release.
I rolled onto my back and felt B.O.B. slip out of me. While I was in the throes, I must have squeezed poor B.O.B. out. I unscrewed the base and B.O.B. fell silent. I laid B.O.B. gently on the floor beside the bed and fell asleep. I think this is the start of a beautiful friendship.
BATTERY OPERATED BOYFRIEND i an erotic story presented by eroticprose.com. The home of sexy stories and erotica.