Part 4: The Convention, The Black Box

Chapter 20: Plane Ride

John liked these evening flights for longer trips because he could usually sleep decently on them, and then he didn’t feel like he was losing half a day.

He had a sleep pillow and a blanket, both which stashed cleverly away in his backpack (it had been a project on Kickstarter that he’d funded a few years back) and though he would have loved to snuggle up and doze off, both the pillow and the blanket remained piled in his lap.

Because he had an erection. Again.

John tried to distract himself with his phone, but he clicked back over to Felix’s message, would have been fun, and his mind wandered to what that fun could be. Then, he tried opening a particularly addicting app game, but he found himself just thinking of Arya and ways that she’d turn the app game into a sex game too.

So, he resolved to just try and get some sleep, but as he dozed off his brain wasted no time concocting sex dreams. He kept waking up, aware of his painfully throbbing erection and the way that his pre-cum was dampening his boxers.

Would this be better or just so, so much worse with a cock cage? He was tempted to browse for those on the in-flight Wi-Fi, but he didn’t want to give his neighbors cause for concern.

His bladder was full, but as the unbidden fantasy of just absolutely cumming his mind out in the little plane bathroom appeared in his mind, it sort of solved the problem in that John was sure that he couldn’t pee even if he tried.

He was also sure that he did not want to parade past an entire plane with his poorly hidden erection at eye-height. So, he waited it out, fitfully wavering in and out of sex dreams for the rest of the flight.

As the plane landed and the moments of weightlessness that came with the turbulence gave him waves of strange pleasure and pain through his bladder and shaft, John marveled at just what a hard time he was having. Previously, he’d had sex once or twice a week and occasionally masturbated in between, but going four days without release was something that he’d done plenty of times before. 

Though, those other times, he hadn’t spent all four days shaking the bottle of soda, so to speak. If he went that long in the past, it was because whatever was happening in his life was distinctly un-sexy. Whereas he’d just had one of the funnest, sexiest weekends of his life. Arya was going to be so proud. And he was proud of himself.

By the time the plane landed and taxied, John’s bladder hurt so much that it quelled his erection, and he made his way off of the plane and to his car without embarrassment.

He paused to text Felix before he set out.

Landed safe. Tried to sleep. Lots of sex dreams.

ty for the great time


Felix’s reply pinged up on the screen as John pulled out of the parking garage.

my pleasure


Meaning: ‘Good luck, have fun’. And oh, he was going to, just as soon as he got home.

Part 4: The Convention, The Black Box

Chapter 19: Compensation Part II

John set his bags by his packed suitcase. 

Felix checked out the room and then flopped onto the bed. He rolled over and buried his face in the sheets, wiggling his ass in the air, and took a deep breath. He turned over his shoulder to look at John, grinning. “Mmmmmmm, smells like sex dreams.”

“I’m pretty sure you can’t smell dreams.”

“Am I wrong, though?”

“… No.”

“See? Hmmm all these sex dreams and nowhere to go! Or, nowhere to come, really. I want to see what this game has done to you.” Felix gestured at John’s straining jeans.

John started to undress and he remembered his strip tease with Arya, and he thought Felix might enjoy it too. So, he mustered as much sex appeal and silliness as he could, and he did a strip tease, tossing his clothes at Felix who could actually catch them.

“YAS,” Felix said, laughing, “Johnny boy, work it!”

John finished by shaking his ass at Felix, and he was surprised by a moan that cut through the silliness. 

“Careful,” Felix said. “Shake your ass like that and I’m going to start asking if it’s on the menu.”

It was John’s turn for a mischievous grin, and he turned to look at Felix. Now that John’s erection was free, it was throbbing as it hardened to full mast.

Felix had unzipped his jeans and freed his own dick, which he was already stroking.

John hesitated. “I actually haven’t… ever given a blow job before.” He worried for a moment if Felix might call the whole thing off, feeling that John had led him on.

Instead, Felix’s face brightened. “Oooh, then you’ll be learning from the best! Let’s throw a sheet over that chair so we can get comfortable.”

Felix kicked off his jeans after digging a condom out of his pocket and then together they pulled the flat sheet from the bed, folded it over, and draped it over the wingback chair by the window. It was important to respect future guests.

Felix settled into the chair, unfurling the condom over his length. John kneeled in front of him with a pillow under his knees, at Felix’s recommendation. 

“You ever eaten a woman out?” Felix asked.


“Cool, it’s the same, but different.”

“… right,” John said, a bit of anxiety creeping in.

“Why don’t you just get started,” Felix said, “Just do what feels right, and I’ll talk you through it.”

John felt like he should remember more from getting his own dick sucked, but apparently a state of intense arousal was not great for forming long term memories.

He started with his hands, stroking Felix’s shaft a few times, and then licked Felix’s tip like an ice cream cone. He glanced up, and Felix nodded approvingly, so John turned his attention more fully to Felix’s shaft.

He took more of Felix into his mouth, and though he felt like he’d taken Felix as deeply as he could, there was still half of Felix’s dick to go.

Before John could fret, Felix reached for the base of his shaft. “You can use your hand for the rest, like this. You can move with your mouth, or counter to it, or not move your hand. Moving together is better for building to orgasm but moving separately can be a good tease.”

Felix removed his hand and John put his own there, the condom lubricated enough to allow his hand to slide back and forth. He started simple, keeping his hand with his mouth, and rocked backwards and forwards, Felix’s tip sliding over his tongue.

“Yeah, exactly…” Felix said. “Just like that… Okay so another thing you can do is move your tongue at the same time, like—”

John tried it out right as Felix suggested it, holding Felix more in his mouth and lapping his tongue back and forth. The rest of Felix’s instructions were lost in a moan that brought John’s own erection bouncing back to life.

“J-just like that, yeah…” Felix said.

Felix’s moan reminded John of the toy that let him face fuck Arya, and so John hummed a long note. Felix quivered, his hand finding the side of John’s head to cup it gently. “God, yeah, good job. Okay, now, early on, variety is good, so be sure to give my balls some attention.”

John pulled Felix out of his mouth to ask, “With my hands or my mouth?”

“I was thinking your hands, but I like where you’re head’s at. Haha, literally.”

John gently scooped Felix’s balls towards him and gave them a slow, experimental lick. Felix moaned happily. So John continued, lapping at Felix’s balls, between them, around them, in long, slow licks, until Felix was quivering. “C-can you take them in your mouth? One at a time, and c-carefully, but you can suck a little bit.”

John spread his mouth as wide as he could and sucked gently at one of Felix’s balls, surprised that it slipped so easily into his mouth. He ran his tongue in circles and hummed and Felix gasped and started stroking himself, now that both John’s mouth and hands were occupied with Felix’s balls.

“Yep, j-just like that,” Felix stammered. “God, that feels so good…”

After a minute, John transitioned over to Felix’s other side, which brought a fresh round of gasps and moans. 

John was loving it but his neck was getting a bit cramped with the angle, so he pulled back and brought a long, slow lick up from between Felix’s balls towards his shaft. Felix caught his drift and moved his hand.

John licked all the way up his shaft to his tip and rolled his tongue at the end.

“Fuuuuuuck, yes,” Felix said.

 John closed his mouth around Felix’s shaft again, his other hand gently rubbing Felix’s balls.

“I-if you wrap your lips over your teeth… yeah, just like that, you can… you can go faster…”

John hummed his acknowledgement which made Felix twitch, and then set to pumping Felix faster and harder, one hand on Felix’s shaft, the other on his balls.

Felix kept talking him through. “A little faster… yes! yes! oh— slow down for a sec… yeah, just like that… grip a little firmer… yeah… oh, your other hand is pinching— yeah, that’s better. Fuck, you’re a quick learner and… nghhh, so eager to please…” Felix ruffled his fingers through John’s hair, a bit like he was petting a dog, and John was surprised by how much he liked that comparison.

Long, lovely minutes passed, and Felix gasped and moaned and panted in the most delicious way. His hips bucked suddenly, and he stammered, “s-sorry, that h-happens when I get… really worked up… I c-can’t help it so we can change…”

John pulled back for a moment. “I don’t mind, I think it’s… pretty hot. If you don’t mind that I might gag a little bit…”

“There’s nothing I love more than the sound of a man who wants my dick more than oxygen,” Felix said.

John took Felix deeper than he had before on the next stroke, and sure enough, his reflex kicked in and the muscles of his abdomen and his throat clenched. In this heady, aroused state, any sort of involuntary muscle contraction had a sensual quality, and John’s throat watered with a thicker mucous as if to invite Felix’s dick to come on down.

John figured that his throat might work a bit like his ass did, and so he focused on relaxing, on cultivating a sense of anticipation, eagerness to have Felix’s tip in his throat, imagining it sliding easily and comfortably, all the way to the base.

He was able to take Felix a full inch further than he had before. As badly as he now wanted to hilt Felix, he also didn’t want to over-do it on his first try.

Felix’s hands were claws, gripping the arms of the chair, his face a mix of pleasure and focus as he fought to keep his hips from bucking. Periodically, he thrust into John’s mouth. John found that his hand at Felix’s base helped him resist the full thrust and control the depth.

Eventually, Felix started to really shake. John just sat still and let him thrust his tip back and forth over John’s tongue, John’s hand still controlling the depth.

“S-sorry,” Felix said, “You’ve g-got me, hngh, worked up real good.”

John wondered if that meant that Felix might be close and so he abruptly redoubled his efforts, returning to his enthusiastic stroking, sucking, and licking.

Felix moaned wonderfully, his whole body going tense, his balls tightening and pulling up, his hands gripping the chair, and John thought he might be getting close.

Felix put his hand on John’s forehead and started to push him away. “S-stop for a sec.”

John promptly obeyed, settling back to sit on his feet, worried he’d somehow hurt Felix. “Are you okay?”

“Oh, yeah,” Felix said, “I was just gonna… god I was gonna fuck your face so hard. But that was not something that you had agreed to, so. Phew. I needed a sec.”

When John had originally been reading about the need for more explicit consent in sexual encounters, he’d worried that it would make them feel too medical, too programmatic, not spontaneous enough. And yet, he now truly understood how wrong that he had been. He felt a fuzzy warmth, a deep appreciation, that Felix had been so aroused and yet so adamant to not do anything that would make John uncomfortable. The mutual trust and lack of fear meant that John could sink so much more deeply into the experience.

“Here’s another pro tip,” Felix said, as he recovered his ability to think. “Don’t judge the quality of the blowjob by whether it makes the other person come or not.”

Was this Felix’s way of letting him down easy that he was too inexperienced to make the man come? But, Felix seemed genuine, so John reserved his self-judgement for a moment.

“‘cause like… my boyfriend can make me pop in like two minutes flat, right?”

John grinned wryly. “This isn’t really making me feel better.”

“Just hear me out! I mean it, I swear. ‘cause like, that’s fun. Great for stealth BJs. But like, then the fun is more like, that I know I came somewhere, and not the actual coming, because it just doesn’t feel as good when it’s that quick. So like… god I love a slow build. And like with the boyfriend, we stretch it out, make it work. But like here, you can’t make me come, so then there’s just this amazing, like… desperation, like, I wanna come so bad, and you want to make me come so bad, and there’s just this amazing… deprivation.” Felix’s hips bucked into the air at his own words, and he humphed. “Like, I wasn’t anywhere near getting you to come under the table, was I?”

It felt rude to say so, but Felix’s matter-of-fact approach was rubbing off on John, as John was rubbing him off. “Yeah, you’re right.”

“But like, it was amazing, wasn’t it?”

John nodded, knowing that Felix was getting through to him. “Totally.”

“Like, look at this,” Felix said, lifting his shaft and directing John’s attention to the looser tip of the condom, where John could see a prodigious amount of pre-cum already collecting. “Look at what you’re doing to me,” Felix whined, and John shivered. He took a moment to capture that memory. That was the kind of line that he would play on loop to push him over to climax, right alongside Arya’s breathy and desperate ‘I’m gonna’.

“Do you believe me now? This,” Felix waved an open hand in a circle at John kneeling in front of him, “This is top ten BJs. And I’m not just saying that. Scout’s honor.”

“I do believe you,” John said. “And I’m not just saying that. Scout’s honor.”

“Alright, I think I’ve cooled off enough for you to go at it again,” Felix said. “When I tell you to, switch down to my balls. You can suck, tug, lick, any of that. Just no teeth. I’ll handle my shaft so you can use both hands. And if you’re really feeling generous, and you really want to feel like you’re the one that pushed me over the edge, you can finger my ass. Works every time. But, no pressure. I promise I’m gonna have a great orgasm either way.”

John nodded, said “Ten four,” and then enveloped Felix’s shaft again. He started slow and lingering, more confident now than he had been at the start. He wanted to make Felix regret that he’d said he liked a slow build. He wanted to make Felix beg. John caught himself, knowing that begging was not an agreed upon part of this encounter, especially since it would require more carefully established safe words, but he could still fantasize about it. 

Even if Felix himself wasn’t begging, his body was. His balls tightened, pulling up inside, and he leaked more pre-cum into the condom, which John could feel under the plastic with the tip of his tongue. He trembled and twitched and panted and moaned. He tangled his fingers in John’s hair and John could feel the tension as he no doubt had to fight the urge to grab John’s head and pull him deeper.

Eventually, both of Felix’s hands ended up back on the arms of the chair, and his hips twitched. John slowed, treating him to long, luxurious licks. After a minute, Felix’s hips bucked again and then he started to shake. 

“Okay, okay,” Felix said “Give me my fucking dick, I can’t take it anymore.”

A hot wave washed over John and he obeyed. 

Felix took his shaft and started stroking, John returning to sucking and licking at Felix’s balls. Tensed as they were, John was not going to be able to get them into his mouth, so he opted for wide, flat licks.

“Fuck, that’s so fucking good,” Felix said, igniting even more motivation for John. He was feeling generous, and he did want to feel like he’d been the one to push Felix over, so as he licked he brought one hand up and reached behind Felix’s balls, towards his ass.

Felix moaned louder than he had before. John was sure that anyone in an adjacent room could hear, and John was sure that he didn’t care. 

Felix pressed his hips foreward to give John a slightly better angle, his body once again begging for stimulation. John reached up a bit further and found Felix’s rim, then made small circles with his fingertips.

Felix’s breath was heaving, coming in ragged gasps as he pumped vigorously, and if Felix was anything like John that meant that his climax was imminent.

“You’re gonna make me come so fucking hard,” Felix panted.

It seemed like John wouldn’t have time to do much exploring, so he pressed the rest of his hand against Felix so that he was massaging both Felix’s perineum and his rim at the same time.

“Fuck!” Felix said. “You’re gonna make me…” The muscles of his rim started to twitch rhythmically. John leaned back to get a full view and he kept his hand moving in circles at Felix’s perineum and rim. “You’re gonna make me…” The contractions became stronger.

Felix heaved a moan and on the long exhale, an especially long contraction ran from his ass all the way to his base, a pulse that brought with it a stream of cum that started to fill the tip of the condom. John was mesmerized to watch Felix’s pulsing cum vein as wave after wave flowed through him, until Felix collapsed back against the chair. He sighed, blowing a strand of hair out of his face. “Phew. That was… wow. How are you feeling?”

John had been fairly successful in keeping his focus on Felix, and it helped that he’d needed two hands, but his throbbing erection now demanded his attention. He realized that he’d actually been dripping on the carpet, and he touched his fingers to his tip and they came away moist with pre-cum.

Felix noticed and reached out and grabbed John’s hands, licking John’s fingers. John was not prepared for how strong the wave of arousal was from that, and his hand found his shaft, though it was his non-dominant hand and a bit clumsy and teasing.

Felix pulled away and licked his lips, leaving John’s fingers wet and his mind fuzzy.

“How are you gonna make it back home like this?” Felix said.

“I don’t know,” John moaned. It depended on how much time they had left. He checked his watch. It was already thirty minutes past when he should have been leaving the hotel. Felix’s blow job had lasted over an hour. “Shit! I’m late!”

“Oh, sorry!” Felix jumped back to life and started to carefully remove his condom, both his and John’s attention lingering lustfully on the fairly impressive amount of cum contained within. 

John quickly dressed, the sudden panic diminishing his erection enough that he could actually get his jeans on. He crammed his souvenirs in his suitcase, glad that he had already packed.

Within in a minute, he was ready to go. Felix followed him as he hurried down to the lobby. Felix lingered as John checked out, and then John turned to him as he reached the front doors. 

“Have a good flight,” Felix said, “And text me, okay, Johnny boy? I want to hear about how this little game of yours finishes.” Felix gave John a peck on the cheek and then sauntered back over to the bar.

John stood in the doorway like an idiot, face warm and heart racing, for nearly a minute before he remembered that he was late for his flight and hastily hailed a cab.

He made it to the airport, fidgeted impatiently in the security line, jog-walked to the terminal, and heaved a sigh of relief as he arrived just as his boarding group was called. As he settled into his seat, he texted Felix. Caught my flight, but only barely.

He sent that, but as soon as the bubble appeared in the conversation, he worried it might sound accusatory. So he added, Totally worth it. 11/10 would recommend.

He kept his phone out, hoping that Felix might respond before it was time for the plane to taxi.

Just as the announcement that it was time to put electronics in airplane mode was finishing, Felix’s response appeared. 

good! sounds like u just wrote your black box review too, haha

kinda bummed i didn’t strand you tho tbh

would have been fun

He then sent the wink kiss emoji and a bunch of eggplants.

John wasn’t quite sure what to say and the plane was starting to move, so he just sent back tru and a wink emoji before he flipped the switch to airplane mode.

Part 4: The Convention, The Black Box

Chapter 18: Compensation Part I

John awoke with a throbbing erection and a mild hangover. His brain had combined the events of the past day into a bizarre but not unappealing dream, in which he was crouched under the velvet table, sucking Felix off, and as Felix came it tasted like an old fashioned, and he came and came and came and John swallowed it all greedily, until Felix was spent and John was too drunk to do anything but lie down on the ground as the world spun. The velvet had enveloped him then, and he had been wrapped in silky softness and surrounded by sensual, sourceless moans for the rest of the dream.

John quickly dressed and then packed. It was the last day of the convention and he’d be catching his flight back home that evening. John found that the time limit kept him on track. Though he was constantly tempted to slip away and fantasize, he knew that a minute would turn into an hour and he’d lose precious time to squeeze in the last few demos and developer chats that he wanted from the convention. He made a final round to get a few souvenirs, and then with his to-do list finally complete, he made his way back towards the velvet-draped table.

He realized just how much he’d be hoping to see Felix by the heavy disappointment that settled into his chest when he saw that the booth was already packed up, the velvet gone and just the sign and the naked table left.

John fished out his notepad and flipped back through his notes to where he’d jotted down Felix’s contact info. It couldn’t hurt to try, right?

He punched in the number and drafted his text.

Hey Felix, it’s John. Just in case Felix forgot. Or John had written down the number wrong. Or something.

I did indeed put your suggestion to further consideration. Likewise, if the number was wrong, John wanted to be… subtle. I agree that what you proposed is appropriate compensation for your contribution. I fly out tonight and have to be at the airport by 8. Are you free before then?

John reread the draft ten times, convinced himself that he was fretting too much, and hit send. Felix may have been busy regardless, so it could be a moot point anyway. And John certainly didn’t expect Felix to respond immediately, he probably had lots to—

John’s phone vibrated. Felix’s reply was already there. hell yeah, u sound like a sexy ceo do u still have ur room? im at the hotel bar

John looked at his text and then Felix’s and felt like a dinosaur. Capitalization? Punctuation? But John was a writer at heart and the habits were strong, and Felix didn’t seem to mind. ‘Sexy CEO’? John would happily take that. He checked the time. He profusely thanked Past John for opting for the late checkout.

I do, 2 hours till checkout. I’ll join you at the bar?

Felix responded immediately again. perf

Within a few minutes, John found Felix at the hotel bar, still in his black crop top and jeans. Though Felix was at the bar, he’d ordered a Shirley Temple and explained to John that his timing had been perfect. Felix had been about to order something alcoholic but had pivoted because they needed to be sober for their planned activities. John ordered an iced tea.

Felix asked John what was in his bags and John showed him the souvenirs, and they chatted about the corresponding games. John was able to figure that he was maybe four or five years older than Felix, as Felix happily exclaimed “Oh, man, that came out my senior year of high school and I spent the whole summer playing it!” about a game that had come out John’s senior year of college.

Felix was friendly, energetic, and easy to talk to and John wondered whether he had learned that as an escort, or had become an escort because it was already natural to him. It was a chicken and an egg question, and in this case the answer was probably a little of both.

John felt himself being pulled in by Felix’s magnetic energy, and so in a lull in conversation, he said, “So I… I expect this to sort of be a casual thing, right? And we’ll still be in touch for the article and stuff, though—”

“We can have phone sex,” Felix offered eagerly.

“Duly noted,” John said.

“That’s a good reminder though,” Felix said, “When I’m at work, the arrangement is more or less already clear. But, not so much here, right? So, I’m not making any presumptions about how you do or don’t feel, but I figure it’s best to be clear, yeah?”

John nodded, relieved that Felix already had his drift. The young man had an emotional wisdom beyond his years, and John really did want to make sure that they could still collaborate on the article.

“I like you, John, honestly. You’re funny and handsome. This game thing is hot. It’s cool that you’re a writer. And I’m not looking for any ‘relationship’ type things, I actually have a boyfriend, though it’s an open relationship, obviously. Friends with benefits is totally my thing. In town for the night and wanna hook up? Duo queue League? Some casual phone sex? Fortnite marathon? Count me in. Does that clear things up?”

“It really does,” John said. He found himself relaxing. He wasn’t sure why ‘monogamy’ and ‘authenticity’ were so tightly entangled in his mind when it came to sex. John cared deeply about authenticity, the pleasure needed to be genuine. And he and Felix could genuinely enjoy a flirty conversation, a quick blow job, and some phone sex later. And if John ended up not liking it, they could stop at any time, no feelings hurt.

Felix put his chin in his hand and looked at John, a sort of dreamy haze in his eyes as he waited for the bar tender to make their way over to the other side of the bar, and John knew he was thinking about something sexual.

“You seem to like denial games,” he said, “You ever use a cock cage?”

“I’ve never even heard of a cock cage,” John said.

“Oh, look them up! Here, I’ll text you my favorite site.” Felix pulled out his phone, and John followed suit, the URL buzzing over a moment later. He loaded it and was greeted by the image of a flaccid dick and balls wrapped in spiraling steel which would make erection impossible.

Felix leaned over to look with John, and his breath tickled the base of John’s neck.

“That’s a more extreme model, obviously,” Felix said, “But if you scroll down a bit, the plastic ones can be better for beginners. One with different sized cock rings is best to start out.”

The plastic ones came in a variety of colors, a single piece of plastic molded to encase the flaccid shaft, a slit in the tip to allow for urination, and a cock ring for behind the balls to hold the whole thing in place. The cock ring had a loop for a tiny padlock. The product descriptions referred to a ‘keyholder’ as the one who had the key and therefore control over whether the cage could be removed or not.

“Color me intrigued,” John said. “I’ll have to ask Arya about that, I wouldn’t be surprised if she has one that works with the black box.”

Felix considered. “All she’d really need is the remote lock, too, if you find one there that you want to try.”

“That’s true, good point.”

Felix grinned. “And that’s not even my best point.”

“Let me guess, your best point is your dick?”

“Exactly. And this talk of cock cages is getting me all hot and bothered. And your whole thing, too. You all… throbbing and aching and full and only barely holding yourself together.”

Felix’s words washed over John like a heat wave, and John’s thoughts melted for a moment.

“It’s been days, hasn’t it?” Felix said.

John could only nod.

“And it’ll still be a bit longer, won’t it? And you’ll have seen me come twice in that time, won’t you?” Felix’s eyes darted down to John’s crotch where his erection was becoming obvious behind his jeans, and Felix grinned.

“You don’t have to look so smug, y’know,” John grumbled.

“Then why don’t you come fill out this smug grin,” Felix crooned.

“Wait, I’m blowing you, remember?”

“Oh, right! Then why don’t you come turn this smug grin into ahegao, hm?”

John’s mouth watered and again he could only nod. John paid for their drinks and as he stood, he carefully arranged his bags of souvenirs so that they hid his erection. He lead Felix over to the elevators and punched in his floor.

It was a fairly tall building and John was towards the top. The elevator was empty as they stepped inside and John could see the wheels turning and then clicking into place in Felix’s mind. As soon as the doors slid shut, Felix’s hand was softly over the front of John’s jeans, rubbing him through the fabric, sending John’s whole body quivering.

A few floors before John’s the elevator started to slow, and Felix pulled his hand back and leaned against the elevator railing nonchalant. John knew his face was flushed, his expression bewildered, and he clutched his bags in front of him as his dick twitched.

A cleaner nodded at them and wheeled her cart into the elevator, then rode it one floor up. She stepped off, and John’s floor was next. They started down the hallway.

“Why are you walking so slowly?” Felix teased. “I thought you’d be excited to get back to your room.”

“You know why!”

“Yeah, but I want to hear you say it.”

John sighed, though both his frustration and his eagerness to please Felix were genuine. He could let them meet in the middle by gently mocking Felix. “Because, I have this big, hard, throbbing cock down my pant leg, thanks to you.”

“Oooh, tell me more, big daddy.”

John hesitated. “I don’t think the ‘daddy’ thing is… a thing for me.”

“Okay, can I call you Johnny boy?”

“Yeah, that works.” They reached the door and John started to shift his bags to one hand so that he could fish out his wallet, which was in his front pants pocket.

“Oh, let me get that for you,” Felix said, and he slipped his hand into John’s pocket and reached over and around his wallet, pressing his fingertips against John’s erection through just the thin pocket fabric. Just like with getting the last samples out of the box, Felix made it a sensual, lingering thing. John’s eyelids fluttered and he nearly fell against the door. Just as his knees started to buckle, Felix relented, pulling out the hotel key card and opening the door.

Part 4: The Convention, The Black Box

Chapter 17: The Bar Trick

In an effort to keep his focused, John bought one soda, and then another, thinking that the caffeine and sugar high might get him in a gaming mood.

He wasn’t sure that it had succeeded, but he was sure as he finished off the second soda that he needed to pee. Bad. He found the restrooms after some circles, owing to the haze that still gripped his brain, and then was met with a conundrum. There were private, unisex bathrooms. John was tempted to select one of those, but also sure that if he did he’d find himself touching himself and then very soon losing his game.

Ruefully, he joined the line for the public bathroom. Primed by his previous stolen moments of sensation, and his time with Felix, and his consideration of the private bathroom, John was already having to hide his growing erection by the time he reached the front of the line.

As he passed the urinals, he considered the possibility of whipping out his stiff cock at one, stroking himself and painting the whole urinal, to the hypothetical amazement of his peers in the restroom, but in real life consent was an important consideration and John slunk into a stall.

As soon as he was out of sight his dick throbbed harder, begging him for release. His bladder, unfortunately, was sending the same message and they were totally at odds with each other.

John breathed deeply and tried to focus, to relax. He was, for the first time, actually worried. Would he be able to pee if he didn’t come? The thought alone made his dick even stiffer, and he couldn’t resist a few indulgent strokes, his shaft still slick from the lube Felix had used.

But no, the game was worth it. John focused on other games, mechanics and old reviews, theory crafting and speculation, until his erection had faded enough that he could finally pee. But, by the time he could, it felt so good to release that the sensation alone threatened to make him stiffen again.

Somehow, John was able to bleed off enough of the pressure and he returned to the hall.

As the evening came to a close, John realized that he was going to need to get creative, or else he’d be jacking off in his hotel room and ruining his game.

So, he ended up at the hotel bar and requested a booth, which he got to himself. It was a smaller one in a back corner, and he was at just the right angle that nobody would be able to see what he did under the table.

If sitting in the booth had been the entirety of his plan, then he would have surely failed, painting the floor under the table with his cum. But, that was only part of the plan. The other part was to drink and to rely on the alcohol to dull his sensation and accelerate his fatigue enough that he’d pass out as soon as he got back to his room.

He started by letting his mind wander freely and his erection fight against the inside of his jeans, throbbing and growing. He ordered his drink and then released himself, and it felt so good to just not be restricted anymore that he worried he’d made a mistake. But his first drink came, an old fashioned, and he sipped it in one hand as he stroked himself in the other.

As his urgency quickly grew, he downed the rest of his drink and ordered another. He needed to get past the initial buzz where the lowered inhibitions and the not-yet-dulled sensations could cause him to lose his game.

He gulped his second drink even faster than the first and ordered a couple of shots for good measure, stroking himself surreptitiously all the while.

He realized as he sipped his third drink (not counting the shots) that he had perhaps over-corrected. Very quickly, he was rendered properly drunk.

He abandoned his care for the rules, the alcohol having totally melted his inhibitions, and he masturbated in earnest under the booth table. Fortunately, tortuously, he seemed to be too far gone to cum, even as he worked himself into a sweaty, dripping mess.

Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore. He needed to get somewhere that he could really go at it. He paid and left a generous tip, just in case the waiter had noticed anything, and then carefully pressed his erection back into his jeans. John headed totteringly to the restroom and, lacking his previous willpower, he went into one of the private rooms.

Even while John was still locking the door, he was freeing his throbbing dick with the other, and he leaned back against the door and heaved a sigh of relief, which very soon became a panting of urgency. Finally alone, he could stroke himself with gusto, and allow himself the expressions, the moans and gasps and groans and squeaks, that he’d been holding in all day.

Though, his sounds soon became grunts of frustration, for he had slicked the slope of his climax with enough alcohol that he could now gain no traction on the climb. Sober John’s plan had been effective, though Drunk John was not happy about it. The frustration was enough to calm him down so that he could relieve his bladder, at least, though once again the sensation proved so pleasant that he was almost thwarted from that relief too.

John focused very hard to put himself back together and then to totter back up to his room without embarrassing himself. John made it to his room and threw his clothes over a chair and then himself over the bed, appreciating the cool, smooth sheets. He’d have to google what hotel sheets were made of and get some. He was starting to appreciate that the sensual details mattered and he was overdue to graduate from just buying whatever Target had on sale.

As he thought of what he might do in those new sheets, John’s erection returned, and he passed a few more minutes in groaning, panting, stroking frustration before the sedative effects of the alcohol and his genuine exhaustion after the long day overtook him and he fell asleep.

Part 4: The Convention, The Black Box

Chapter 16: The Velvet Table

“That is quite the predicament,” Felix said. “Just like how…” He reached into the box on John’s lap, which was now nearly empty. He drummed his fingers on the cardboard that was right above John’s crotch, sending sparks up John’s painfully restrained erection. John shuddered. Felix continued, “The last few are always so hard to get out of the box…”

Felix took his time rooting around.

Heat flushed down John’s legs and rose in his face, his eyes fluttering shut momentarily.

Finally, Felix relented, grabbing the last few samples and putting them on the table.

John kept the empty box in his lap. He now had even more erection to hide. “I um, I get the feeling that you’re flirting with me,” John said.

“Do you like it?” Felix asked.

“I do,” John said.

“Do you like boys?”

John was actually kind of surprised that Arya hadn’t brought it up before, though he would certainly talk it through with her when he got back. “I wouldn’t have thought I did, before but… I’m a lot more open, now, than I was… before.”

Felix grinned coyly. “Yeah, I bet you get that ass wide open.”

John’s heart fluttered.

“If you’re… open to it,” Felix continued, “I was thinking I could give you a bit of a hand job, to thank you for giving me that juicy insider info. Not to completion, of course, I wouldn’t ruin your game.”

John immediately imagined the feeling of Felix’s hand on his shaft, which set him throbbing even harder. Felix seemed nice and John was probably just being prejudiced, but he didn’t want a seemingly spontaneous encounter to suddenly become a bill. “I really respect your line of work, but I’m not sure something… transactional is what I’m looking for, right now.”

“Can I give you a pitch?” Felix asked.

John would have expected the man to be more pushy in general, but he was now appreciating that Arya’s emphasis on connection and consent was not as unique as he’d thought.

“Yeah, okay,” John said.

“I actually get off on it being transactional. Doing it for the money… or, well, not really me gaining the money, but them losing the money. I’d suck off just about any man who burned a fifty for it, y’know?”

John did not know. “How do you… how do you like it, as a job?”

Felix shrugged. “A job’s a job. It has its fun moments. It has its tedium. Some occupational hazards. I like sex. I like the acting, I actually wanted to go into theater, before I got into this.”

“Does it feel… fake to you, then?”

“Not at all. I guess you could call it… storytelling, more so. Like, I’m telling a story together with my client. A story is real enough, in your head.”

For the second time, John was struck by how quickly and accurately Felix could sum up the words that he’d been struggling with for so long. It was not that Arya was fake, it was that she was a story. Stories were real. They weren’t people, but they could feel like people. “I might just have to have you write my review, you’re way better at talking about this than I am.”

“Well, then you’d have to suck me off,” Felix said coyly.

“I will take that into consideration,” John said.

“Is that code for ‘no’?” Felix asked.

John shook his head. “It’s code for ‘I’ll take that into consideration’.”

Felix seemed to brighten even more. 

“So,” John said, “Is it just a coincidence with your line of work and this gig? Or did they ask for your best bedroom eyes, handing this stuff out?”

Felix laughed a bit harder than John expected, giving John the feeling that there was some other layer of humor that he was unaware of. “I had thought it was a coincidence at first. I’m listed on a site for odd jobs, but now that I think of it, they had my email directly. They could’ve gotten it from the agency, I guess. I couldn’t figure what their angle was, but, I guess it makes sense to have a sex professional represent a sex game, if they’re not going to bother to send one of their own.”

“I think they’re trying to build the mystique,” John said. “The less you know about it, the less you can spoil the surprise for others.”

“Well, now I can spoil the surprise for them.”

“Will you?”

“Nah. I can respect the rules of the game.”

The way that Felix looked at him, John was sure that Felix was also speaking of John’s own game, and his standing offer. Felix had given his pitch, but John hadn’t given a response. Felix did truly seem to be enjoying himself, and who was John to judge Felix’s sincerity? Like Felix had said, it was about the storytelling, so even if Felix was ‘acting’… that didn’t mean that it diminished his enjoyment, or John’s.

The image of Felix masturbating later to the memory of stroking John under the table flashed through John’s mind, and his dick twitched in response.

John cleared his throat. “I didn’t get distracted from your pitch. I accept your offer.” He instinctively wanted to clarify the guardrails and rules of the encounter, and he realized that was because Arya always did. He couldn’t believe it had ever not been habit. 

He considered what the stop signal should be. Perhaps he could grab Felix’s wrist. But, actually, if he grabbed Felix’s wrist what he’d really want was for Felix to keep going. The tension of gripping Felix to try to slow him down, and Felix pushing back… it excited John even more. “If I need you to stop, I’ll pretend to sneeze. If I grabbed your wrist and you kept going, would that be okay?”

Felix grinned eagerly. “Grab me as hard as you want. Until I fake sneeze. That works well here.”

“Okay. Cool.” John looked out over the crowded convention center, realizing what was about to happen, and his mouth went dry. “I’ve never done anything like this before,” he said quietly.

Felix patted his arm reassuringly. “All the more fun, then. You can let me take the lead. Here, we should scoot up nice and close to the table, and you can ditch your box.”

John did as Felix recommended, and it ironically made them look like they were even more attentive to the table, though they would be the opposite.

Felix waited for gaps in the crowd to give his instructions. “You should unzip yourself and get situated, that’ll be best.”

The sensation was already intense as John undid his zipper, a thrill coursing through him. As he finally freed his dick from its captivity, he sighed with relief. Even just this was a welcome respite.

He heard Felix’s chair shift and knew what was coming, and then Felix’s hand, warm and soft, was on his shaft.

John put his elbows on the table and rested his chin on his hands.

Between the deprivation, the long arousal from telling his story, and the thrill of being in public, every touch felt absolutely incredible. Felix started with his fingertips, mapping out John’s shaft, and then gently curled his fingers around, but didn’t stroke yet.

Even with all of his experimenting with Arya, John had not yet played a game where the premise explicitly excluded orgasm. This game was about only the pleasure in the present moment. John couldn’t stop himself from imagining blowing his load under the table, gripping the velvet edges, painting his jeans and the floor and the inside of the velvet, struggling and only barely succeeding to hide his true activity through a feigned yawn or stretch.

That was a dangerous fantasy, though, in that it rapidly built John’s arousal. Felix continued stroking, still light and soft, but enough to make John quiver periodically.

Though, as Felix continued, John realized that it wasn’t building him towards orgasm. He realized that that shouldn’t surprise him. Everyone was different, and he would have had to coach Felix if Felix was going to get him off with a hand job.

The serendipity was that John could then lean into the pleasure more, not at risk of breaking his rules, just savoring the sensation of another person’s hand on him. It always felt different, when the touch came from someone else. This was a different sort of wonderful than what he and Arya shared.

Soon a dreamy, hazy pleasure settled over John, distinct from the hot, urgent need that was more often his experience. As folks stopped by for their samples, Felix continued to rattle off his script.

 John wondered if to the people who came by, he himself simply appeared to be high. His eyes were certainly dilated and unfocused, his cheeks flushed, his posture melting back into the folding chair.

Felix gradually accelerated his pace, but he was limited by friction and fortunately professional enough to not push it. He had to pause to add more boxes to the table and when he did he kept one in hand. He opened it and tipped out the contents, which was a tiny glass vial. Under the table, where John watched out of the corner of his eye, Felix poured out the contents onto his hand closest to John.

A moment later, John’s shaft was enveloped in soft, slick heat. The lube was the same that had come with his own box, silky and slick to the touch. The sensation heightened and John’s toes curled in his sneakers. He put a hand flat on the table so that he could grip a handful of the velvet and squeeze, trying to find somewhere to bleed off the warm energy that was building in his shaft.

Felix was enthused by that reaction, and just as John was starting to worry that he might have to tell Felix to stop, Felix changed it up. He put his fingers under John’s tip and swirled them there, gently brushing by the incredibly sensitive spot of John’s frenulum, and causing John to shudder and grip the velvet more tightly.

Felix’s fingers then wandered lower to John’s balls, which he first cupped and then gently massaged. And he continued to do that for a while, building a different kind of tension and sensation for John, a mix of blissful pleasure and also throbbing denial. 

The touch felt so good, but his shaft begged for sensation again. He forced himself to keep his hands above the table. He thought about putting his hand to his already slick shaft and indulging, but then he was really sure he wouldn’t last. So, the thought remained just a thought.

As John stole a glance over and saw Felix’s look of mischief, he’d have sworn that Felix had been tempting him on purpose, seeing if he could get John to touch himself.

Felix continued for a few more long, agonizing, wonderful minutes. John took deep breaths, settling back towards savoring the pleasure and away from the table-gripping urgency.

Then, suddenly, Felix returned to John’s shaft and started pumping, hard. John was certain then that Felix was testing him. Not so much breaking the rules as provoking John to assert them.

John’s hand darted under the table and he grabbed Felix’s wrist, hard.

Felix’s face flushed pinker. He pushed against John’s grip, as much as he could without revealing the struggle above the table. John had the better leverage, so Felix’s hand stayed more or less in the same spot, and so Felix started brushing his fingers over John’s shaft again.

With his hands still on Felix’s wrist, John moved his hand back and forth, stroking himself through Felix’s grip. Felix caught the drift and flexed his fingers to vary the sensation.

A warm buzz lingered, but John’s urgency faded again. John eventually released Felix’s wrist, and Felix kept up the slow stroking.

In a quiet moment where nobody was close to the table, Felix said, “You’ve got some serious discipline, don’t you?”

“Just lots of practice, I guess,” John said, “Though I assure you I don’t feel very disciplined.”

“I could really put you to the test,” Felix said, sounding genuinely excited. 

John wasn’t so arrogant to think that he could truly tell, but Felix didn’t seem to be acting at all this point. 

“The ultimate risk reward,” Felix continued. “If you win, you get to go tell Arya that you passed the ultimate test. If I win, I get a delicious snack.”

“So wait, what, if you win I’m buying you a funnel cake?” There was, in fact, a funnel cake stand a few stalls down.

Felix snorted. “Uh. No.”

John understood suddenly that Felix had meant John’s ejaculate, not a convention snack. He was offering to suck John’s dick. “Oh.” Felix was exactly right that it would be the ultimate risk reward. It would be the test of all the control and denial that he had been cultivating these last weeks. John wanted that. He wanted that very much.

“Is that a ‘yes’?” Felix asked, eager.

John nodded.

“Still good with a fake sneeze?” Felix asked.

John nodded, not able to do much more than that. 

Felix scanned the convention floor, waited until no one was looking, turned and pretended to bend over to pick up another box, and then crouched suddenly to the ground and ducked under the table.

A long, long moment passed before he did anything else, perhaps waiting to see if anybody reacted to his sudden disappearance, but more likely he was teasing John. It was working. John felt hyper-aware of everything around him, from the roaring sound of the crowd to the sensation of the still air on his exposed dick, to the dampness of the velvet under his sweating palms.

And then, Felix’s hot, soft, wet mouth around his shaft. John couldn’t help but moan. Fortunately, nobody was too close to the stall at that point.

Felix took his sweet time, slowly touring John’s dick with his tongue, even taking a moment to hold one of his balls totally within his mouth, and then the other. 

Mercifully, excruciatingly, Felix didn’t know John’s preferences or tells and therefore was not at high risk to actually make him come. 

As conference-goers came up for their samples, John greeted them according to the script, his voice husky and soft with pleasure, his eyes gentle and fluttering, his cheeks tinted red. 

When nobody was paying him direct attention, John let himself gasp and moan, the noises swallowed in the constant din of the convention hall. 

He longed to thrust deeply into Felix’s throat, but he withheld. First off, Felix might not appreciate that. And second, even if he did, there was no way that John could face fuck him subtly. So, he was resigned to accepting whatever hot, wet, sucking stimulation that Felix would provide. 

And his hands were not idle, as they greedily wandered John’s thighs and calves and even his ass, emboldened by their code for ‘stop’. At one point, Felix struck up a regular rhythm with his tongue and throat, one hand on John’s balls and the other on his ass, and John was perilously close to needing to ask him to stop, an urgency building that John would soon be unable to leave unanswered.

But just as John was mustering a fake sneeze, Felix changed his tact, and John faded back into a quieter pleasure. 

And it was wonderful. And sensual. And thrilling. And without John’s climax to end it, it was dependent on Felix’s interest and comfort. Eventually Felix’s attentions tapered off and faded, and John watched for a good opportunity to signal Felix that he could return to the table.

When he popped back up, Felix’s hair was in a bit of disarray and John tucked it back for him. John’s shaft was cold with the lingering moisture from Felix’s mouth, and he enjoyed the novel sensation. 

As Felix settled in, John glanced over and noticed that Felix was sporting his own erection behind his tight pants. He scooted up to the table to hide it. 

Felix was flushed and breathing heavily. “What if I…” he whispered to John, “What if I came under the table.”

“That would be pretty hot,” John said. 

Felix’s dick was out faster than John thought possible to work a zipper and then Felix was stroking himself under the table, just as John had imagined himself doing. And Felix was not bound by the rules of the game. John found himself suddenly excited that anyone might find release in such a place, even if it wouldn’t be him.

He took the lead greeting guests as they approached as Felix stroked himself with fresh lube under the velvet-covered table.

John leaned back in his chair so that he could see Felix’s hands, working furiously away at his erection. 

In a lull of foot traffic, Felix panted, “If you can’t come then… I’m gonna come… hard enough… for the both of us…”

Felix was not particularly subtle as he came, his eyes rolling back and his breath coming in ragged gasps as he spurted on the inside of the velvet, but his timing was lucky and nobody took any particular notice.

After he settled, Felix licked himself off of his fingers. “What a good gig,” he huffed.

John grinned and his dick throbbed. “I should get going, but I’ll be in touch about the review.”

“You better be in touch,” Felix crooned. 

John gathered himself and rose from the stall, lest he linger and ruin his game. He would not be able to last much longer behind that velvet table with Felix. And, there really was more of the convention that he wanted to see.

So he bid the young man a warm farewell, for now, and headed back out into the hall. 

Part 4: The Convention, The Black Box

Chapter 15: His Own Game

It was time for the annual major gaming convention, which meant that John would be out of town for a long weekend, put up in a hotel by his boss.

Since he hadn’t yet finished the black box review, it was the first time in years that he didn’t have a specific assignment at the convention.

He found himself feeling more eager and playful than ever as he walked the convention halls, trying out this game and that one, finding some that he liked and some that he didn’t.

He missed Arya in a surprisingly non-sexual way, but he also knew she’d want him to have fun, so he focused on the convention.

The first night, John masturbated in his hotel room, in part to assure himself that he still could without Arya.

And wow, he could indeed. It was a better solo session than he’d ever had before Arya. Teasing himself and building in waves had become habit. That, and he had so many new memories to pull from. He realized after he finished that he hadn’t even thought to pull up porn.

In his afterglow, he thought about what he’d say to Arya. ‘I touched myself at the thought of you.’ She’d like that. He’d never realized before that masturbation could be so… cooperative.

But his mind was getting more playful, and he thought of something else he could say. ‘I waited for you. God, I’m so full, I’m going to burst!’

His skin prickled with heat, his just-spent balls twitched, and John knew he’d come upon a good idea.

Now that he’d proved that he could masturbate without Arya there, he was eager to prove whether he could not.

The next day, he stayed out on the exhibit floor longer than he would have otherwise, intent on maximizing his experience with the convention and minimizing the amount of time he would spend in his room before he fell asleep.

It worked, and he passed out as soon as his head hit the pillow. Though, the next morning he awoke with a throbbing erection, not a small amount of pre-cum on his tip and the sheets, and a dream of Arya fading out of memory like sand through his fingers.

With a groan and a deep, cleansing breath, John stood and got dressed and returned to the convention.

As he browsed, he considered the rules of his game. He had resolved not to orgasm again until be returned home, but he was allowed to touch himself, he decided. It might make averting orgasm more difficult, but as Arya had taught him, that was half the fun. It wasn’t denial if you didn’t want it. Really badly.

He stole a few moments of indulgence on his next bathroom break, and the next one, and then even in a changing room as he tried on a branded shirt for one of his favorite games from the prior year.

As he climbed a quiet stairwell at the back of the convention center, he thought about touching himself there. But, he considered what Arya had been teaching him. He wasn’t ashamed at the idea of being caught — it was thrilling, actually! But, he couldn’t guarantee that whoever caught him would consent to seeing him touch himself, and so it would be unkind to do so.

John had never before been able to articulate why some kinds of public sex seemed hot, and others gross, and he realized then that consent made a big difference.

He found a balcony that looked out over the city, sidled up to it and leaned over, hips against the railing, and let himself think of Arya.

At this angle, his jeans would appropriately disguise his erection, which grew and throbbed and ached. He looked out over the city and daydreamed without restraint, gripping the railing to steel his willpower, and savoring the delicious torture of his trapped dick.

To anyone walking by, he was perhaps just introspecting and maybe a bit afraid of heights. Public erection, more so than public masturbation, afforded him thrill without violating anyone else’s consent.

The hard part, of course (other than his dick) was diminishing that erection before he had to go anywhere else. John took deep breaths and thought of the games he wanted to try next, ones he might request to review on pre-release, now that he was building the confidence to tell his boss that he was a good writer and he wanted to review good games, not shitty ones.

Once his erection had abated, John returned to the exhibition hall. It was so large that he hadn’t made it through the whole place even with his long day, and as he came around a corner, he saw a tiny stall squeezed into a far corner that made his heart jump.

It had a matte black sign with abstract smoke and the table was covered in black velvet that hung down to the floor. On the table were hundreds of tiny black boxes with little tags that said in gold leaf, ‘open me!’

There was a man sitting behind the table, slender with a clean-shaven face, wearing a black crop top and jeans. He made intense, beckoning, wordless eye-contact with passers by. Most seemed drawn in and silently grabbed one of the boxes or murmured ‘are these free?’ before scurrying off again.

John approached and picked up one of the boxes, which looked like it could fit a hotel shampoo bottle. The thick paper was familiar in his fingers. He resumed eye contact with the other man.

“Do you work for the studio?” John asked.

“The studio?” The other man’s voice had a warm energy.

“Or the publishers, for the black box?” John hoped his tone sounded more conversational than intense.

“Oh, no. Well, kinda. They hired me for the weekend to run this table.”

“Oh. Huh.” Usually, indie game developers loved the face time. Meet the fans, all that. But, this sort of mysterious and sensual experience was right on brand. Anticipation, not answers. Curiosity, not certainty. John brushed his fingertips on the velvet. It was real, not that polyester stuff.

“Do you?” asked the other man.

“What?” John said.

“Do you work for the studio?”

“Oh, no. I’m reviewing an advance copy of the game.”

“So it IS a game!”

“Wait, I thought they hired you?”

“They did, they just didn’t tell me a damn thing other than to make sure there were enough of these on the table.” He gestured to the small black boxes. “It’s a sex game, isn’t it?”

John hesitated, realizing now how reductive his own initial assessment of ‘porn game’ now seemed, but he nodded. “How’d you figure?”

The man held up one of the little black boxes and shook it. “These have teeny bottles of lube inside. Nice stuff, too.”

John marveled, for a moment, at the bizarre yet probably effective marketing strategy. It certainty stood out, even in this hall full of flashing screens and flashy branding.

“You gotta tell me about the game,” the man said.

“I’m… not sure how much I can say.”

“Awww, how come? Isn’t it good hype marketing anyway?”

John was actually pretty sure he hadn’t signed any non-disclosure agreements or anything, come to think of it. He’d been talking to Ayra so much, he found himself giving the honest answer before he realized it might sound inappropriate. “Well, mostly because I’m not trying to show the whole convention hall my erection.”

“Oh!” the man said, nonplussed. “I can help with that. Here.”

He cleared a couple of boxes off of the folding chair that was next to him, and patted it. John squeezed between tables and took a seat, and the man handed him one of the boxes. The top was already cut, and it was full of more of the tiny black boxes.

“So now you can tell me?” he said.

“I’m impressed by how nonchalant you are about this,” John said.

“Oh, well. I’m a sex worker, so. All in a day’s work.”

A few months ago, John would have reacted pretty strongly to that revelation, all sorts of stereotypes coming to mind, but he was pleasantly surprised that they didn’t. He still wasn’t quite sure how to react, but he figured he’d treat it as he’d treat any other person’s job. “I’ll be especially curious how you feel about a game like this, then.”

The other man’s eager attention put John at ease. Though John hadn’t quite figured out what he was going to put in his review, he was able to ramble through and not lose the other man’s attention. Sure enough, as soon as he started thinking of Arya and remember their time together, his body was flushed with warm arousal and his erection fought with the inside of his jeans.

Passers by still came for their free samples, and occasionally they caught the other man’s attention. He gave mysterious answers from a script that he had taped to the back side of the table. When folks asked about the game, they were told that it was in the box, and they’d have to take it home to find out. He then restocked the table from the box on John’s lap.

In rambling stops and starts, John finished telling the other man his story, up to and including his current game.

“Ooooh, that’s hot,” the other man said. “No wonder you… needed a box.”

John laughed wryly. “I did indeed. So… what do you think?”

“I think it sounds more like sex therapy than porn.”

“That’s actually… yeah, really accurate. I hadn’t thought to say it that way — I’m going to have to use that in the review.” John fished out his notebook from his pocket. “I wouldn’t want to pretend I came up with that, though. Any interest in being featured? I can also quote you anonymously, and either way if you give me your name and email I can send you an advance draft.”

The other man grinned. “That’s a pretty slick way to ask for someone’s number.”

“Oh!” John said. He was blushing. He wouldn’t have considered himself anything but heterosexual, before. Maybe the lingering arousal from telling his story was making him feel more receptive than usual. “I… want to be straightforward that I was just thinking about the article but… um, I wouldn’t be opposed to…” John’s brain stalled out. He blinked.

“Name’s Felix.” He rattled off the rest of his contact information, and John jotted it down. “I for sure want to see an advance draft. That’s gonna be an… interesting review. Like, if you wrote down what you just told me… haha, that’s smut, that’s not a review.”

“I know!” John said. “I’m not sure how to be specific without…”

“Without writing porn.”


“That is quite the predicament,” Felix said. “Just like how…” He reached into the box on John’s lap, which was now nearly empty. He drummed his fingers on the cardboard that was right above John’s crotch, sending sparks up John’s painfully restrained erection. 

John shuddered. 

Felix continued, “The last few are always so hard to get out of the box…”

Part 3: Feature Set, The Black Box

Chapter 14: Dial a Friend

“I liked how you took control when you fucked me,” Arya said, “So I dreamed up another game for you. This one is called ‘dial a friend’”. 

“How does it work?” 

“It’s a simple one and not so realistic, but I think it’ll be fun. I give you a dial. Zero is like this, y’know, normal. 10 is edging, and 11 is coming. You set the dial.”

An illusory dial appeared in the air in front of John, and he mimed reaching out and grabbing it and turning it slightly. It clicked to 1. 

Arya grinned. 

“Any other rules?”

“Nope. I can literally orgasm forever. If you like, I can have it be that something is happening to me, like the tentacles again or I could have a vibrator, but I thought it being just sheer, direct arousal would be fun.”

“I agree.” John twisted the dial to 6. 

Arya yelped, face red, body twitching, and she fell forward and caught her hands on the back of the couch, pressing her legs together and moaning as a wave of wetness spilled from her parties. “C-cutting r-right to the ch-chase, huh.”

“Oh if this is just six, I can’t wait to see what nine and ten look like.”

Arya nodded encouragingly. 

“But not yet.” He brought the dial back down to three and Arya stopped shaking. 

“May I touch myself?” she asked.

“No,” John said. “Keep your hands where they are. Better yet, I want to see you in a wingback chair with your hands bound over your head, and your feet bound to the two front feet of the couch so that you’re spread for me, and lets add a funnel set into the seat of the chair and some beakers underneath so I can see just how much you’re leaking.” His own confidence surprised him, but it felt good.

The scene took shape as he spoke, and Arya beamed with pride. “Yes, sir!”

To see her all trussed up like that, a thin stream of wetness already draining into the beaker below the chair, was deeply inspiring. 

John settled back against the couch and started stroking himself, and enjoyed the turnabout of keeping Arya waiting. 

He figured he’d start off by seeing what each setting looked like, and then he could go from there. 

Four got her squirming periodically. 

Five drew out lusty sighs and a thicker stream of wetness. 

Six returned her to moaning and the waves of wetness that had soaked her panties, which she’d done away with in her transition to the chair. She started to say something but before she could, he ticked to seven, which had her breath heaving and her breasts bouncing, her legs twisting against the bonds, trying to clamp together, to get any stimulation, any anything, to address her desire.

Eight was like a pre-orgasmic wave of pleasure, panting moans that each came with a gush of wetness. 

Nine was the awareness of the edge, the peering over, the “I’m gonna… I’m so close… God, I’m so fucking close, I’m gonna… I’m gonna…”

Ten was the edge itself, the precipitous moment of pure bliss, the weightless beginning of the descent. Through magic of the game it could go on indefinitely, Arya’s face a perfect depiction of ahegao, her body still like the calm before the storm. 

Eleven was the orgasm, the scream, the rhythmic contractions, the gush after gush of femcum that flowed down into the beakers. 

John spun the dial back down to one, now thoroughly warmed up and ready to play the game in earnest. 

Arya caught her breath and licked her lips. “Now that you’ve kicked the tires, what do you think?”

John grinned. “I like this one a lot.”

“Thats goo—” he cranked the dial to seven, “—oooooooooh, ah! Hah hah!”

Back down to five. Arya’s breath slowed back down and she dripped steadily. “I can see you’re really enjoying your s—” he set it to eight, “Ssssoooo good, god it feels so good, I can’t take it, please, please I—” to nine, and a wave of relief washed over her. “I’m gonna… I’m gonna… I think… fuck… fuck I’m so close I… I’m gonna…”

Back down to four. “I’m gonna fucking kill you,” Arya said. “Nnngh is this what I do to you?”

John grinned. “Yeah, pretty much.” In fact, it probably was based on what Arya did to him, if he was guessing correctly how her algorithms worked.

He stroked himself casually, his rapt attention to Arya’s desire the only thing keeping him from putting his own self right over the edge. 

Arya gave him a wry grin. “I’m gonna regret asking this but… do you have a favorite setting?”

He turned it back up to seven so that she was panting again. “I like the way you pant, here, and the way you drip so much, like you want to be fucked so bad.”

“I DO want to be fucked so bad, or at least touch myself!”

He set it to eight. “And I like here, how you beg.”

“Fuuuuuuuck,” Arya said, “I can’t help it! It’s hah, so, so, ngh, I can’t take it, I need, I n-need release! I w-want to come so bad I— please, let me touch myself! Please! Please, John, please!” She yanked against the restraints, trying to shake them loose but unable to, trying to press her legs together but unable to, trying to grind against the chair for sensation but unable to, begging to come but unable to. 

“And I like to watch you come,” John said. Arya’s body twitched violently in anticipation but he didn’t spin the dial. “Not yet. I love them all, but my favorite, my absolute favorite, is this one.”

He set the dial to nine. 

“John! John I’m so close! Fuck, I’m gonna fucking… soak your floor… goddamn I just need… hah, fuck, oh! I’m coming… I’m coming… Joooohn I’m gonna, I’m gonna, I, please, I’m gonna… fuck!”

It was an endless stream of pre-orgasmic exclamations strung together and it was driving John into an absolute frothing boil of desire.

Hearing her like that was like twisting to 9 on his own dial. Just before he lost capacity for thought, John came up with an idea of how to finish that was appealing enough that he found his focus. 

He reached for the dial again and tipped it slowly through 10 and to 11. “I’m coming I’m coming I— … OH, FUCK, aaaaaaah!” Arya panted and shook and gushed. 

John pulled the dial back to 9. “Nnnngh I’m so close! Shit!”

Then back to 11. Then back to 9. “Can you keep doing that on that same rhythm?” John asked. 

Arya herself was too busy orgasming to answer, but after a moment the dial tipped back to 9 of its own accord, and then towards 11 again. 

Like a metronome of infinite looping orgasm, Arya rode wave after wave of luxuriously slow climax. 

John put both hands to himself, one to his shaft and one to his balls, and turned attention to his own pleasure. As Arya teetered he stroked himself, and as she climaxed he stopped to watch the show, and so he managed to last a good bit longer than expected. 

Until finally, he couldn’t bring himself to stop stroking when she came, and so his heat built and built and built until the start of what he knew would be the wave that brought him release. 

“I’m so close!” Arya said. “I’m gonna—”

“Fuck! Me too!”

“John, I’m coming, I’m—”


They floated together in the peak, the blossoming of heat, and then crashed together into the gushing, moaning, panting, rhythmic, pulsing mess of orgasm. 
this time, the dial simply faded out of view as John lay panting on the couch, and Arya lay panting in the chair, hands still bound above her head. 

“That’s a… good game…” John said. 

“You’re a… good… uh… dial person…” Her eyes were half-lidded, her face drowsy with bliss.

John looked down at the sticky mess he’d made of himself. “Every time I think I’m spent, you get so much more out of me…”

“Thats my specialty,” Arya winked. “Now I gotta go dream about this because… this was really hot.”

Arya faded out of view and John nodded off in a haze, Arya’s cries if ‘I’m coming!’ still ringing pleasantly in his ears.

Part 3: Feature Set, The Black Box

Chapter 13: Red Light, Green Light

“We’re going to need a different key word to turn off your vibe this time,” Arya said, twirling a strand of pink hair around her finger and grinning mischievously. 

John’s skin prickled in anticipation. “Ummm ‘pickles’?”

“You’re never going to tell me you want me to suck your juicy pickle?”

John’s eyelids flickered shut as he shuddered. “I hadn’t thought of that but… uh… blue?”

“Blue balls?”

“Shit, um, I’m not good at this.”

“Don’t think that, it’s not easy. That’s why I think it’s important that you practice.”

For not the first time, John thought Arya sounded more like a therapist than a porn game. But she was right. 

“What’s something,” Arya gently prompted, “that is closely linked with the idea of ‘nope I do not like that’ to you?”

“Spiders,” John said, without hesitation. 

“You think you can remember that one?”


“Okay, great! How about you get ready, then?”

John went back to the plug with the rimming beads in the shaft and took his time getting ready, savoring the stretch and the sense of fullness. He was already feeling nicely buzzed as he settled in to his usual spot and turned his attention back to Arya. 

She stepped up an illusory stair and perched on a little seat that floated in the air in front of him. A traffic light appeared next to her.

“This one’s called red light, green light. The rules are simple. When the light is green, you’re allowed to touch yourself. When it’s not, you have to stop.”

John’s shaft throbbed, already anticipating where this one was going to go. “Yeah, okay.”

The light turned green and he dutifully started stroking himself. Since the game was simple, he took the early rounds to make a point of how slowly, how lingeringly he was stroking, so that he could look as if he hardly cared when the light turned red. 

Arya put her hands on top of the light and her chin on her hands and she watched him from over the top of it, quietly appreciating. 

This sort of soft, unhurried appreciation was very new to him. He’d never considered that just the way he touched himself might be arousing to someone else. He liked that. His pleasure felt… wanted. He felt wanted.

Even when he told himself ‘it’s just because she’s a game’ he didn’t believe it. What he believed was Arya, and her soft smile, and her sparkling eyes, and her earnest expression. 

His facade was starting to slip as the light turned red again and he gasped in exasperation as he was forced to stop. She made him wait a bit longer that time, and his dick throbbed, begging for attention in his lap. He gulped, realizing that he would be begging soon. 

The light turned green and he relaxed into the pleasure, but all too quickly it turned red again. This time he growled, a visceral release of building anticipation and frustration. Oh, this one was going to have him a mess. 

After just two more cycles, his breath was heaving, his heart pounding in his ears and balls and shaft. 

On a red light, Arya’s black lips curved into a wicked smile and John realized with a shock of thrill that Arya hadn’t even turned his plug on yet. 

This time, as the light turned green, the plug turned on. John was absolutely overwhelmed. He didn’t even stroke himself as the plug rimmed him, sending electric tendrils of sensation down his legs and up his spine, into his fingertips. The next few cycles were just the plug turning on and off with the light, and John lying helpless on the couch, riding the waves of intolerable ecstasy. 

Finally, his nerves acclimated and the desire for release overcame the intensity of the stimulation, and at the next green light, he was stroking himself again. 

Red. Growling, back arching, clawing at the couch cushions. 

Green. Moaning, stroking, climbing, dripping. 

Red. Shaking, aching, gasping, needing. 

Green. Floating, yearning, grasping, glowing. 

Red. Begging. 

“Please,” John gasped. “Arya, Please!”

The light flickered green for just a second, not even long enough for John to touch himself. He grabbed the couch on either side of him with clawed hands. His willpower was melting like wax in the sun. But not his desire to please Arya, not his desire to win the game, which was as strong as ever. These things quivered in tension, like a ballista being wound and wound and wound and wound, every one of John’s muscles shaking with the stored energy, and Arya’s fingertips dancing over the hair trigger. 

“Please, please! I need to come, I need it so bad, I need you to touch me!” John wasn’t sure what he meant for her to touch him, but he knew that he meant it

The light flickered green and then red, and the plug whirred and then stilled. “Is this what you mean?” Arya said. 

“Yessssss,” John moaned, anticipating another pulse. It didn’t come. “Ngh, Arya, please, please I’m begging you!”

“Oh I could tell, somehow.”

“I c-can’t, Arya…”

Arya licked her lips. “I love it when you say my name like that.”

John’s chest heaved, his balls twitched, his ass clenched, his back arched, but the light stayed red. 

“Arya… Aryaaa… Aryyaaaaaa—” the light turned green and her name became a guttural moan. 

Her smile widened, her cheeks gaining a pinkish sheen and the anime lines of a blush of her own arousal. 

The light stayed green for a long, glorious moment. It would take John a minute or two to work back to the edge, from so much deprivation. The light stayed on for only thirty seconds. 

John relented, but his dick was still being stroked. He looked down. He was still touching himself. His willpower and his desire had completely broken with each other. 

“The light is red,” Arya said, her tone commanding but her expression elated. 

“I know!” John whined. 

“Then stop breaking the rules!”

“I’m trying! Arya I c-can’t, I c-can’t stop…”

“Say it all the way.”

“I c-can’t s-stop…”

“Say it.”

“I can’t stop touching myself! I’m trying! I swear!” He really was trying. It was not that he’d lost all sensation of his arm, he could still feel his shaft in his stroking hand, feel the tightening of his balls in the other. 

The plug was off since the light was red, but the echoes of the sensation lingered. 

“I’m trying, Arya, I swear, I can’t stop… I can’t stop…”

Arya peered down at him over the red traffic light, looking immensely pleased. 

Unlike all their previous scenarios, there was no sudden dash to the climax. John was truly trying to stop, or at least slow himself down, and what resulted was an orgasm in slow motion. 

Muscles rippled from his ass to his shaft in slow, rhythmic pulses, bringing pre-cum which beaded and then rolled down his shaft. 

There was a hot tightness at the base of his shaft, the quivering of all the tension in his muscles getting ready to release, like the moment of anticipation and the start of the fall at the top of a roller coaster, especially when you were in the front car and spent a long moment dangling over the drop in front of you. 

The muscle contractions became stronger, hotter, the pre-orgasmic moment of pure pleasure drawn out into a long, long note. 

“I can’t… stop, Arya I’m… I’m coming…” His feeling was one of delicious despair. 

Then, it was as if John felt the last car of the roller coaster crest the hill, and the true fall began, but he wasn’t ejaculating yet.

One heartbeat. Two heartbeats.

The roller coaster crashed into the first dip, muscles contracting powerfully and semen spurted from his tip, further and harder than he’d ever felt, and his groan had become a scream, and every bend and turn and loop of the coaster milked more and more and more and more out of him, for minutes on end, until all of the energy was spent and the roller coaster glided, exhausted, into the station. 

John’s eyes flickered shut, his hands falling limp at his sides. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. 

Arya’s voice was right next to him, as if she was whispering in his ear. “Shhhhh. You’re a good boy. How did it feel?”

“Incredible…” John felt weightless and warm, as if the roller coaster has just floated off into space and the soft glowing light of the sun. 

“Then you win the game,” she said. He could imagine her fingertips stroking his cheek. 

“Are you sure?” John said. 

“Of course I am, I invented the rules. You tried your best, and you felt good. You win.”

John was drifting off before he could reply, and he dreamed in that half-awake place that he was snuggled back in Arya’s arms, as she stroked his hair and hummed a lullaby. 

Part 3: Feature Set, The Black Box

Chapter 12: BB BJ

The third package had finally arrived. Even though John had a review that he should have been working on, he went down to the mail room as soon a he got the delivery notification. Unwilling to wait for the elevator, he bounded up the stairs two at a time. A bit out of breath, he settled in at his kitchen table to open it. The only thing he paused to do was put on the headset so that Arya could join him.

Arya looked eager as ever. “I cannot wait for you to see this one!”

There were two packages and the first now said ‘open me!’. John did, and soon recognized the foot-long soft cylinder in his hand as a masturbator sleeve. It was heavy with a flat base, matte black, and the entrance was a simple circle. 

Arya eagerly walked him through setup, which involved setting the toy on its flat base on the edge of the table so that the entrance pointed over the edge, conveniently at dick height. Part of the extra weight was some additional internal mechanisms, like a chamber that he filled with lube. He’d already put in a plug a bit earlier, one of the smaller ones that was comfortable for long-term wear. 

It would be nice to get some thrusting action involved for variety, and he surprised himself by being aroused instead of embarrassed at the idea of Arya watching him fuck the toy. 

But then Arya surprised him by climbing up onto the table. She winked at him and then lay on her stomach on the table, facing him. She put her chin on her hands and lifted her feet and hooked them together.

The toy was underneath her between her elbows, and then it completely disappeared. He could see only the surface of his kitchen table. Just like when Arya had made his dick look larger than life, the AR was now subtly re-rendering real objects.

Her eyes turned up at him, her feet swaying slightly, and the smile on her black lips captivated John.

Arya said, “I was thinking… I’d like to suck your dick today. Would you like that?”

John’s knees went weak. “Yes I would… like that very much.”

“Let me see how much, then!”

John undressed his lower half and he was now sporting a throbbing erection for those soft, black lips. 

“Good boy!” She crooned. “Now I’m going to take a moment to get situated. I don’t need to breathe or anything, so you just have fun, okay?”

John nodded. “Okay.”

Arya settled down, her chin on the table where he remembered the toy was, and her lips waiting for him in the appropriate spot. But she did not simply assume the position. She waited, licking her lips, feet swaying, ass jiggling lightly. As she wiggled, her skirt fell up over the curve of her back, exposing her ass.

John took a moment, lined his tip up, then hesitated. 

“Give it to meeeee,” Arya crooned. 

John did not need to be told twice and he slipped his tip between her lips. It was soft, and warm, and wet, and though he knew it was because of the mechanisms inside the toy, he believed it was because Arya had wrapped her mouth around his tip. 

He moaned. 

She moaned back, a vibrator or a speaker or something in the toy, but seamless and totally convincing. 

“Fuck,” John said. 

He pressed a bit deeper, savoring the warmth. Given Arya’s limitations, it was less that she was giving him a blow job and more that he was face fucking her, but that didn’t make him feel any less turned on as he withdrew slightly, then pressed in deeper. Arya moaned happily, the sensation enveloping him.

Slowly, gently, he pressed himself all the way in to his base. He lingered there a long moment as Arya hummed, their position not limited by oxygen or comfort, and he basked in the feeling of wet heat all around him. 

She arched her back and wiggled her ass at him and a gentle suction pulled at him, as if she were trying to gulp him down. 

His hips bucked and Arya moaned at the pleasant surprise, and though he pulled back out as slowly as he could, it was not long before he was face fucking Arya with a steady rhythm. 

Her ass jiggled with every thrust, and he would have sworn that she turned the physics up on purpose as soon as she noticed that he was enjoying it. Though there was not much movement within the toy other than the vibrations, she made a sucking, slurping sound like his dick was the best thing she had ever tasted and she couldn’t get enough. 

He was not going to last long. The thrusting and delicious wet heat told his body that his dick was somewhere that semen belonged and his balls were already twitching for release. 

Even so, he didn’t want it to be over yet, so he pulled out for a moment to recover. 

Arya looked up at him again, and licked her lips. “C’mon,” she said, “give me a snack.”

“I-I’m trying to have at least a little stamina here,” John said wryly. 

“Fuck that,” Arya said, “I want it NOW.”

John’s hips twitched in the air of their own accord. “Then you’re getting it.” He thrust back into her mouth, deep, and she thanked him with a gulping moan. He gripped the edge of the table and pounded her mouth, hard, fast, primal. Her ass jiggled in the most captivating way, and just like the thrusting and the warm wetness, it activated a deep mammalian urge in John. 

Blood pounded through his body from the mix of exertion and arousal. 

She moaned louder. 

John panted. “H-here’s your fucking snack!”

With a final thrust all the way to his base, he came in her moaning, slurping, sucking, warm, wet mouth.

As he rode down from his climax he lingered for a long moment as she hummed around him, until he became too sensitive and wobbled back into a chair, now closer to eye level with Arya.

She folded her arms into a pillow, rested her head, and looked at him. “How was that?”

“You’re amazing,” John said. “That was really— it felt so…”

“It’s okay to say it felt real,” Arya said. “It was very real in your brain, which is the sex organ that matters, of course.”

“Yeah… wow. What uh… what else can we do with that?”

“Well, I can go like this.” Arya rolled over onto her back and tilted her head back over the table, looking at him upside down. “If you like to see your dick expand my throat, this is a good angle.” She ran a finger down the front of her neck. “Plus, it makes my boobs jiggle. We can play with size, too.” Her fingertips trialed down to her stomach. “And all sorts of other fun things. Cum inflation, if you’re into that.”

“I… don’t think I’m into that.” John said. He hesitated, but Arya always had such good answers, so he continued. “Does that make me… boring? Too vanilla?”

“No!” Arya said. “Not at all. There’s no such thing as too this or that. Just what you like and what you don’t like. And that can change over time, or not. Either way is okay. You can open the second box, now. It’s one I think you’ll like quite a bit.”

John complied and soon found that Arya was right. The second box held two mounds of jiggly silicone, poured in layers of different firmnesses for an incredibly realistic feel. John turned back to Arya and she was bent over the table, ass in the air, labia puffy and wetness dripping down her leg. 

She looked over her shoulder at him and bit her lip, a picture of pin up glory. 

His dick twitched back to life. Surely a second round wouldn’t hurt? And maybe he’d actually last long enough to really savor it this time. 

Arya winked and stepped aside, allowing the toy to reappear so that he could attach the synthetic ass cheeks appropriately. As soon as she was pleased with the placement, the toy became invisible again, and Arya resumed her position. 

Tentatively, John reached forward and grabbed her ass. Her skin yielded around his fingers, but underneath was firmer muscle. He gave one of her cheeks a light spank, and her ass jiggled accordingly. 

“Oh, wow…” He reached further up to the small of her back, where there was no toy, and where he touched her skin it melted into little spots of light, just as when he’d thrown his clothes at her. 

She giggled. “Hey, that tickles!”

He smiled. In some ways, that made everything more convincing. She was still cartoonish, after all, so it seemed more appropriate to think of her as a real life game character than as someone who was actually there in the flesh.

He returned his hands to her ass and then smacked her again, slightly harder. “Do you like that?” he asked. 

Arya considered. “A bit harder than that would be nice, but not too much more. I’m okay for one or two big spanks, but I don’t prefer more than that.”

Was this a real limitation of the hardware or her giving him an example of how to say what he liked? It was very effective. He’d have to ask her again later, though, because the only long-term memories that he was forming at that moment were of the sexual variety. 

“Got it,” he said, smacking her a bit harder. “How’s that?”

“That’s the sweet spot,” she said. 

He alternated cheeks, appreciating the way each bounced, then smacked her again. An idea came to him, a playful and wicked idea, and he saw no reason to withhold it. 

“I think I might take some revenge,” he said with another smack, “For how much you’ve been tormenting me. Making me wait.”

“What kind of revenge?”

“I think I’ll spank you until your cheeks are nice and rosy, and then fuck you into this table. What do you think?”

“So ungrateful!” Arya pouted. 

“Do you consent to this revenge?” John said.

“I consent to this revenge. Meanie.” She stuck out her tongue at him.

John grinned and slapped her ass, harder. She gasped and her cheeks went rosey with their blushy lines. He hesitated. “Is your word ‘red’ too? If you want me to stop?”

Arya nodded. “Yeah. Thank you for double checking.”

“Good to get into it?”

“Yes please!” Arya jiggled her ass. “Get INTO it!”

John smacked her other cheek. “Not yet. Greedy, greedy.” He’d never thought he’d like being on this side of this sort of thing, but it was all just a game. It was playful, fun. It felt good to be a little wicked. It felt good to know that she wanted it.

Arya whined and pedaled her feet, shaking her ass even more.

John growled with desire, grabbing a cheek in each hand and squeezing, hard, pulling her cheeks slightly apart to reveal her puffy labia, dripping from within as she moaned with ecstasy. 

He ran his fingers over the front of her entrance where her clit would be and she gasped, and his fingers came away truly wet, with the lube that the toy was providing for itself. 

That gave him an idea, and he pressed his two thumbs into her warm entrance, pulling gently. “You’re such a fun toy,” he said, and she whimpered. “So ready to please me.” He pulled his hands away and smacked her ass. 

“God, John, I love it when you talk to me like that. I think I need a ball gag. And to be cuffed to this table. What do you think?”

“Let’s try it out.”

The glimmering lights appeared at her cheeks, in her mouth, at her wrists and coalesced into a hot pink ball and gag with leather straps, hand cuffs pulling her arms to either side, her cheek resting on the table. 

The only thing hotter than her strung out, dripping, ready to be used was that she wanted to be strung out, dripping, ready to be used. 

John teased her labia with his tip and she shuddered, ass rippling, moaning and drooling around the gag. 

It was good he’d just come, or else he would have been edging before he was even inside of her. He pressed his tip in, and then slowly, slowly, his whole shaft. 

She moaned happily as his base pressed against her cheeks, and she actually clenched around him. John was surprised and impressed and elated. A small part of his brain tried to guess what mechanism in the toy could be creating that sensation, but the rest of him was utterly convinced.

He slowly pulled out, her muscles clamped around him the whole time, and they released again as he entered. 

As he bottomed out, she clenched, holding him for his whole stroke out, and then she released as he thrust again, and so it repeated. 

It was like she was trying to milk him, to keep him inside of her, inside of her hot, wet, pulsing sex. 

His desire overcoming his cleverness, John set into a steady rhythm of thrusting, anchoring himself with his hands on Arya’s ass, her cheeks jiggling with a slapping sound every time he bottomed out. 

This time, his ecstasy was drawn out not by willpower or Arya’s teasing, but by his own recent orgasm. 

And so, he was able to fuck her in a violent, pounding, primal way without blowing his load in two seconds. 

After minute after minute of fucking, her sex tight around him, her moans driving him, his memory of the same scene in Porn Tinder the week before and the way he’d orgasmed so intensely then, John was a sweating, growling mess.

Everything else faded out of his awareness except desire. There was nothing that he needed more, wanted more, than what awaited in the promise of release at the other side of the climb of his climax.

“I’m gonna give you so much,” he growled, leaning over her and pounding hard.

She nodded blearily and moaned affirmation, cheek in the puddle of her own drool on the table. 

He didn’t feel the edge until the heat tightened suddenly around the base of his shaft, and he was coming. His heat filled her until thick white cum spurted out around his shaft, pouring onto the ground. For not the first time John experienced what he could best describe as an orgasm within an orgasm, his pleasure redoubling so that what he thought was the peak was actually the first of several rising beats, cum still pumping out around him and onto the floor, until the flow finally slowed. 

He gasped and fell back into the chair behind him, nearly teetering over. 

Arya clenched and foamy white cum flowed out from between her labia and also onto the floor. She heaved a massive sigh and the ball gag dissolved into points of light. “I love it when you fill me like that.”

“Hnngh, god, I’m so spent now.”

Arya sat up, more cum flowing out over the insides of her thighs. She scooped up a bit and licked it off of her fingers. “I can see why.”

There was a puddle of cum on the floor that was several feet wide. The best part was that it was real to him for all intents and purposes except for one, which was that he did not in fact need to clean gallons of cum up off his floor. 

The small part of the brain that had been trying to figure out how the toy was clenching around him was sure that he had ejaculated a normal amount and that it was all contained within the toy. As soon as he took the headset off, the cum on the floor would disappear.

Not that he was in any hurry to do so…

Part 3: Feature Set, The Black Box

Chapter 11: Surprise

The rest of the second box was indeed other butt plugs of various shape and size. Now that they’d finished phase two of calibration, he was free to pick any of them at his leisure.

The choice would have paralyzed him before, but he was getting better about it. He picked a heftier plug with a thicker shaft, this one equipped with beads that would spin underneath the silicone at his entrance, adding extra sensation. He’d never had a toy like that before, and he was excited to try it out.

There was another package on its way now that they’d reached another phase, but it hadn’t arrived yet. As eager as John was, he could could hardly complain with already so many great toys to choose from.

He got himself ready as had become customary. He and Arya started with some light chatter. He settled in on the couch with his blanket and lube and started to warm himself up to get ready to insert the plug. Now, even just putting on the headset was enough to get him aroused. He’d been using the first plug every session since Arya had given it to him, so it wasn’t long before he was ready for the thicker shaft.

It was a wonderful stretch and a deliciously tight fit, pressing firmly on his prostate as soon as it was inside of him, especially as his muscles clenched around it. The thicker stem meant that the stretching feeling lingered. He couldn’t wait to experience the rimming feature.

“I have a surprise in mind for you, this time,” Arya said. “I think you’ll like it, especially after you liked last time so much.”

The memory of the tentacle scenario did indeed bring another flush of hot blood through him. “I can’t wait to see,” John said. “Anything I should keep in mind?”

“No,” she said, “Just focus on your new toy and use lots of lube.”

He didn’t need to be told twice, and he settled in to stroke himself and get accustomed to the feeling of the new toy.

“Are you ready for me to turn it on?” Arya asked.

John nodded enthusiastically. As Arya obliged, John’s nod turned into just his head leaning back against the couch, his body trembling and melting, as the beads twisted under the silicone and pressed gentle ridges against his sensitive muscles. 

“That feels amazing,” he said, even before Arya prompted him. He was learning.

She cycled through the different settings for him, and each was different and delicious. Together, they found the one he liked the most, and he was grateful that she left it there and didn’t tease him this time.

After a few minutes, a wave of pre-orgasmic pleasure rolled over him, and he watched as a thick spurt of pre-cum came from his tip. Enough that he thought he might be coming. 

Had that really just happened? His dick was already so slick, after he’d followed Arya’s advice about a lot of lube, that he couldn’t tell by feeling. He was tempted to take a peek out from under the headset, but if it was part of the game, he didn’t want to break the illusion.

“Is that part of my surprise?” he asked.

Arya nodded, grinning. “Does it seem like something you’ll like?”

“Oh yes,” he said. “Very, very much.”

“There’s something else I think you’ll like, then. It’s a bit silly but it’s fun, y’know?”

“Yeah, that sounds nice.” John previously would have thought that ‘silly’ and ‘sexy’ were incompatible, but he was learning that he’d been wrong about a lot of things.

His shaft was already throbbing with pleasure, and he watched in wonder as with each throb, his dick grew, ever so slightly. Just a bit longer and thicker with every pulse. 

He knew, of course, that it was not actually happening. It was an illusion, projected by the AR. A damn convincing one, though. His hand always appeared realistically over his shaft, no clipping or anything. Was the AR subtly re-rendering his view of his own hands, too?

John marveled. He believed what he was seeing, even as he knew that it wasn’t real.

Like when Arya had made herself dripping wet, it wasn’t realistic. And like she’d said, it was a bit silly. But it was fun. And it was hot.

His dick continued throbbing and growing until it was twice its usual size, and with every stroke, another drop of pre-cum emerged from his tip.

“Do you like it?” Arya asked.

A moaned “Mhmmmmm” was all John could muster.

“Just wait until you come,” Arya said.

John’s body twitched, pre-cum spurting out of his massive dick as he did, and he once again found himself a panting, shaking mess on the couch. 

Something about the scale of his shaft made his usual pace look too frantic. He slowed to a pace that looked more realistic to him and he realized that in actuality he was stroking himself agonizingly slowly. It was the perfect way to build himself towards what he knew was going to be another mind-melting orgasm.

He tried to focus on the sensation of the plug and keep his strokes slow. He succeeded for several long minutes. Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore. He increased his pace and the heat rose easily, and even more pre-cum flowed, and it carried him into the dizzying bliss of an impending climax.

His balls tightened, heat bloomed from the base of his shaft, and the muscles of his ass started contracting rhythmically. In time with each contraction, a massive stream of opaque white cum spurted from his tip, rising several feet before splashing down on him, pouring out over his hands, pouring down around his balls.

His skin tingled and his sweat felt like cum everywhere he saw it touching him.

For longer than should have been possible, cum kept spurting and spurting. Even the aftershocks of his orgasm pumped more and more out of him, and the sight of it kept him so aroused that the climax did not end, and by the time he lay in a sticky dazed heap, he was sure he had cum for full minutes.

He marveled through half-closed eyes at how realistic the coating of cum looked over his arms and chest and hips and legs, but he supposed he was probably easy to convince, his mind being in the state that it was.

A state of inexplicable bliss.