They'd been long-distance for three months, and the only thing keeping the connection intimate was her laptop. She snapped a picture of herself on the couch, spread out for him. Then she emailed it.
Lots of nights she'd sit on her couch, her laptop propped up beside her. Naked, she'd read his emails, or compose one for him. Sometimes, though, she'd get both bored and lonely; she'd click on one of her favorite porn sites. She'd found one where real couples submitted their photos. If she couldn't have physical satisfaction, at least she could she other people experiencing it. It turned her on, and soon she'd be touching herself at her computer. She joked with him that the long distance would drive her to seek out internet porn. They laughed about it, but she never fully admitted to him the extent of her online exploring.
It wasn't long before she clicked a link to an adult toy retail site. And with a click of a button, she'd placed her first order. She'd never had a toy before. She'd always been far too shy to actually go into one of the seedy adult shops and, frankly, her fingers seemed to do enough. But the months of long-distance, combined with the daily emails, the photos, and surfing amateur sites, had gotten her totally curious. The next thing she knew, a small brown package had arrived.
Of course, the first thing to do was test it out. She locked the door, drew the curtains, and stripped down. She unwrapped her new toy, found some AA batteries, and pulled up her favorite site. She started touching with her fingers, until she was wet and ready. Then with a twist, her new toy hummed in her hand. She touched it to her clit, and it sent shocks of vibrations to the tip of her head. Everything tingled.
It didn't take long at all for her to reach climax. In fact, just holding it against her clit could bring on an orgasm. Shaking and trembling, she set the toy down.
She wondered if she should tell her boyfriend of her new purchase, and her new experience. To test his reaction, she wrote him that she'd gone online and watched a video of a woman playing with a vibrator, and asked if that turned him on. The irony was that as she asked his permission to explore new things, she was already two steps ahead. By the time he wrote back that he was glad she'd found a sexy video of a solo girl, she'd already ordered her second toy.
Again she stripped on her couch. She placed a towel down, lubbed up her toys, and set down for more porn, and more pleasure. She learned that the vibrators with the rattling pearls inside produced the most intense vibrations. She loved to feel this type of her toy on her clit and filling her in the front. She also lerned that her smaller, sleek reddish colored vibrator felt good in her back. She'd discovered this on the couch. Trying to hold on toy on her clit and work one inside of her, it slipped to her lower entrance. To her surprise, the sensation shot direct currents to her clit. The more she pushed the toy against her anus, the more intense the sensation in the front. It was as if currents of electricity connected the toy toys. So she'd sit on her couch, legs propped up on the coffee table. She'd work the red toy in her butt, while pressing the pearl vibrator in the front, as she watched online porn.
Eventually, she told her boyfriend about purchasing her first toy. By then, her collection had grown. So had her Sex Ed, provided by hours of watching online porn. At first she liked the solo girls. She would place herself in the shot, moving her toy as the woman on screen moved hers. She then began watching couples' videos. Shed imagine the guy as her boyfriend, and the woman as herself. She'd get on her knees and use the toy from behind. Or hold it upright and ride it.
At the beginning of the long-distance, her sexy emails would retell some of the experiences she and her boyfriend shared. After those ran their course, she found herself describing scenes she'd watched online. In the emails she'd change the scenes, the places, the names, the details to be specific to her boyfriend and their life in their homestate.
She even got so bold as to send him a self-timer shot of her using her toy in the back. It would either freak him out or turn him on so much he'd beat off to it every day for weeks. She wanted to think of him being turned on by the image, and to get her pleasure from the thought of him getting pleasure from the image. But she was already far passed him and their relationship that seemed fixed in another place, long ago. She was in the city and her job and her live was changing. HE was still back home, hanging out with the same high school buddies, drinking beer, working the same stupid job. She didn't know what he'd think of the image of her with the vibrator up her butt. She was certain it'd shock him.
He'd have no idea, though, that bedtime became her time to bring out her toys. She'd used her larger toys in the back, that she'd use another toy in the front. Or suck on one, while pushing another up her butt. As far as he knew, every story, every private fantasy was about the two of them. She couldn't tell him that he only appeared as a character in her emails to him. In her mind, she was on her back, a man straddling her face, his cock dangling down as she takes it in her mouth. Another man beside her, pushing his hard cock into her anus.
She now had several toys: blue and purple, white, red. Each a different shape and size, and personality. Some had gentle, soft vibrations, and some she could only bear for a few seconds, they seemed to send such strong currents through her. Each one had a texture, a style, a mood. A personality. When she was home, before moving to the city, she imagined she'd only be with her boyfriend. That they'd get married, and be happily every after. When they made love back then, she figured a penis was just a penis. All boys had one, but they were essentially the same. Now, with her toys, she imagined she had a dozen different lovers. Each night would be a new combination. Always, she imagined more than one cock, fucking and sucking at the same time.
Months passed. When they first started dating in high school , all they could talk about was getting out of their small hometown, far away from parents and teachers, and starting an adventure in the city. After graduation, even agreed to start college at the local community college. He argued that core credits were all the same, and it'd be cheaper to live at home and get in-state tuition, and get some credits out of the way before moving.
So she passed up all the other acceptance letters from colleges in the east and a couple in California. And she enrolled at teh local community college. And on fridays they went on dates, to the movies, and bowling, and had sex in his pickup, just the same as any young adults do in any small town USA. It was fine then, even lovely, even fun.
But eventually, she had to move to the city. Had he been an asshole, the choice and a breakup would have been easy. Simple. But you know: life is never easy or simple. He was kind and agreeable and supportive. He wrote her letters regularly. At first, he said he needed to stick around a while to make sure his folks had help on the farm. That he wanted to save up some before joining her in the city. But at last, it had become clear. There would always be something keeping him in their hometown, and she couldn't go back. Letters were fine for a few months, but without any clear end in sight, they could not sustain. She'd grown into a woman he didn't know, with thoughts and desires she could never share.
She had to force the situation to the point of decision. She knew she had to do two things to truly break from the innocence girl she was. She knew in her heart, she had to experience two men at once. She had to make real the fantasy, at least once. And she knew, she could not keep the secret from him.
In life, agony and anxiety often come when a decision is put off. ONce the decision is made, life takes up and moves on its own. Things fall into place. And so it was that she found herself in a hotel room she'd reserved, and two young men about her age, good looking enough, and total strangers who agreed to what she had in mind. And so it was the three were naked, and she riding one, and sucking the other, and then trading. Being filled the front and the back. Being stretched out, sore, sweaty, and satisfied. They fucked her like no toys could. She was dizzy and wanted more and more. She came over and over. They fucked until she had drained every drop of cum they could give her. Semen sloshed in her belly, dripped from her cunt and asshole. Around 4am, they guys left. She slept on the tangled, stained sheets.
The next morning she showered, dressed and checked out. The only evidence she had of her tryst was a self timer shot on her digital camera. Back at her laptop, she debated sending it. Did he really need to see it? Did she really need to tell him everything?
That's when she knew she had really changed. For the first time she felt truly like a woman, and not like someone pretending to be a mature adult. She now new herself like never before. She could give all she had, and still keep herself. She downloaded the image, but did not send it. She took out a piece of paper and pen and wrote an old fashioned letter saying she needed to break up, that it was her, not him. That she'd always care for him, and that she didn't want to hold him back. As she wrote, life became suddenly clear. Somehow she knew in her gut that he'd already found someone else, a local girl with no intent of moving. And rather than send him the shot of her and the other guys in vengeance, she wished him happiness. The answer was simple all along. He was doing what he needed to do. And so, with that, she did what she needed to do. She sealed the letter and set it on the coffee table to be mailed, cutting the final and last strand holding her back.
Yet, an old WWII bomber is the size of the modern passenger jets. An old Ford Model A is actually not a wind-up toy car but about the same size as a Prius. An old steam train's wheel is taller than my head. Some how the past gets reduced like a diorama. 
