Shopping and toys

I disappeared to the south for the last week, leaving my wife all alone at home.

Somehow she managed to wear out a few of her toys, and she hatched a plan to go shopping after she picked me up from the airport. She has a habit of coming up with these great plans, she figures out exactly what she wants to do, and then tries to get me to figure out what she wants and then wants me to take her to do what she wants to do. I usually figure it out when she directs me to drive the long way home, or she tells me it would be nice to go somewhere she hasn't been for a long time.

The other night she decided to go toy shopping. I was more than happy to take her, although she is next to impossible to shop for. I have tried to buy her toys in the past, but usually she uses them once for my viewing pleasure, then they get relegated to the back of the toy drawer and never see the light of day again.

I like to think that I am good at picking out toys for women. I also realize that toys are designed to be better stimulants than my dick ever can hope to be. I have tried to vibrate, and no matter how much I try it just doesn't work. Toys can bend in ways I can't, touch places that I can't touch, although I am fairly confident that for most women a toy can never replace the feeling of 'him'. Plus they are fun to play with.

We walk into the store, which is in a small, one story building on a main road. The door is around back, along with the dimly lit parking lot, which is covered in security cameras. Oh, what these cameras must see. In the store every available inch of real estate is taken, one wall of sexual fun. We make our way to the corner of the store that we came for.

Every toy is hung on the wall in it's group, dildohs with dildohs, vibrators with vibrators. We each pick a few toys out, discussing each ones merits along the way. Some neither of us could figure out, others are more obvious. We finally settle on three, a thin longish vibrator, a rubber vibrating cock ring, and my personal pick, a curved and ribbed slightly-larger-than-my-dick dildoh.

We walk into the house and I go upstairs to shower. I took my time showering, after a week away one of the nicest feelings is to shower at home.

I walk downstairs, and my first view is of her, legs spread, one leaning on the armrest of the couch, the other propped against the coffee table. The vibe was bouncing off her piercing, a very solid metal, almost mechanical sound. The dildoh, plunging in and out. I couldn't help myself. I wanted more than anything to be that toy, but I didn't want to interrupt the rhythm in front of me. Instead I leaned over and kissed her, not touching her anywhere except with my mouth to hers. My hand reached down to help her, taking over the dildoh duties. I sat on the floor next to her and kept going. Each thrust of my hand got her closer to orgasm until I could see her thighs tense, pulling her knees closer together as she came.

Next was my turn. She was already waiting for me. I pulled her in close, so that she came down to my level on the floor. I moved her over me positioning her so that she could easily sit on my lap. She sat down and started to ride me. Ride me she did. I just sat there as she pleasured herself over me. In reality it was me who was enjoying it more.