Joss is upset (and horny and drunk)

Breaking up

Months go by and I think we both knew that the magic was fading. The thing that kept us together - regular calls and fun with our remote toy started to happen less frequently and conversations started circling round things about our lives which made us unhappy.

I think our experience of sex had changed. For me, it felt real and inside of me, but for him, I'd been reduced to just a toy he could play with when he wanted to. To this point, I hadn't really blamed him.

It was when a girl appeared, clearly accidentally, in the background of our call, that I started to get mad. I questioned him about her and he insisted that they were just friends. I believe him to this day that they were just friends at the time, but experience has taught me to trust my gut. When you hear a lover talk about someone else in just the right way, you just know.

It was the final straw on the camel's back, as far as I was concerned. It had been an awful week, and a particularly awful day, with things falling apart at work and at home, so I was in a volatile enough mood to quit anything.

"It's over."

Many words were said but those are the only two I remember.

And that's when everything really started to fall apart...

Hung Over

Custody of my vagina isn’t a normal conversation topic at the best of times, but especially during a difficult, long-distance breakup.

I know enough about our (maybe I should call it ‘my’) toy to know that it can’t be turned off, so, after a few months had passed , I decided it was time to bring it up and ask him to send it back.

But that was not to be, since I foolishly decided to bring this up while I was speaking to hurt, depressed and drunk Joss.

“You want it back?” He slurs while he fiddles with the dials, evidently with me on speaker phone.

“Yes, I—,” I am distracted from speaking as I feel my muscles clench and unclench a few times. “Ow! What are you doing?” I shift position on my couch, switching to kneeling.

He looks confused until he realises he’s playing with the toy, “oh um atpercher? Aperture! You can feel that?”

“Yes! Joshua focus!”

“Haha - I get it - aperture, focus - funny. What’s this one?” He’s almost unintelligible.

I feel an unusual cold sensation and look down to see a moist patch form through my leggings. I’ve never been wet without being turned on first, and never this much either. It’s not a combination I’d advise - the sensation is one notch above how I’d imagine peeing while clothed.

“Joshua put that the fuck back.”

I guess he had because the patch had stopped spreading, but it didn’t clean my clothes for me.

I’m quite mad now.

“Joshua will you please just leave the thing alone. I’m really losing my patience.”

“Yeah well I’m losing my self control.” I have about two seconds to decode his slurring and process what he means by that before I feel something small and uninvited enter me. I recognise the movement of his finger from some of our fun when we were together.

For a drunk man — one having trouble talking — he still had his muscle memory. I’ll admit, he knows what I like, but my overwhelming emotion is still rage.

“You’d better stop right fucking now Joshua.”

“Or what?!” The finger recedes, but I hear a belt buckle open in the background of the call.

He has a point. There’s absolutely nothing I can do short of brain surgery or reasoning with him, to stop him. I’m not sure which is more plausible right now.

I feel a pressure at my entrance but my instinct is to not let him in.

“Yaeow, you’re too tig-“ I hear his cogs spinning for a few seconds before I’m distracted by my lips betraying me and my canal opening up to him, practically swallowing my panties inside my pants. More involuntary lubrication follows, allowing him easy passage in and out. Fuck.

“What’s loop?” I experience the answer pretty quickly as I feel my insides squeezing and relaxing, massaging his member for him. I’m a literal toy.

“Josh-u-ah, you - need - to - stop - right - now.”

My entire body is consumed by his pleasure quest while he idly pumps it up and down on his cock with minimal effort.

“Oh ssshhhhhhgg” I hear the sound, through the phone, of many buttons being pressed before many things happen to me at once.

First, with an unsettling sensation, his cock vanishes from between my legs and rematerialises in my mouth.

I have never given him (or anyone) a blowjob before, so I wasn’t prepared for this aggressive one.

Secondly, my “massage” and “lubrication” function is deactivated and replaced by a reflex to suck the phantom cock pushing its way into my mouth and to drool excessively.

I can see my reflection in the TV and I can see my open mouth is empty but it’s not enough to overcome the sensation from the neural chip forcing me to feel the cock, the gag reflex and the sensation of sucking it.

The final consequence of his indiscriminate button mashing is a wave of unnatural arousal. I know it’s unnatural because I was as far from arousal as it gets one second ago, but it’s also real.

I try to protest but, with my mouth full, I can just make gagging sounds or moans. Neither accurately conveyed how aggravated I was.

I only last a minute before the relentless unnatural arousal starts to win my body over. I let my hand slide between my legs and jump as I feel the also unfamiliarly dilated entrance waiting for me. I disregard this feeling in favour of the more urgent one and I finger myself in place of the missing cock, losing myself to that sensation.

“Oh god you feeew sohhh ggg—”

His “finishing move” momentarily pulls me back from my horny stupor. A few aggressive pumps, a few seconds apart, and I gag as his simulated cum hits the back of my throat.

In my haze, I expect him to pull out of me now but he doesn’t.

“Ghoghh? Ghogggghhh? GHOOGGGGHH???” I try to get his attention.

All I hear down the line is snoring. Are you fucking kidding me? He passed out with the toy around him.

Does that turn me on? I wonder as the artificial arousal takes back over. My hand keeps working my soaked, dilated pussy and my mouth continues to automatically try to stimulate his semi-erect, passed out member.

I must look like a sex doll on the couch, with my mouth held open and my hand working myself furiously to get to that sweet relief. I moan around the invisible dick as I cum harder than I have done in a long time.

I instinctively stop playing with myself for a moment, expecting the arousal to subside but it doesn’t. It’s exactly as strong as before.

Lost in the feeling of it, I slip off the couch, my top riding up. One hand squeezes my breast through my ridden up top and the other returns to work between my legs.

If doesn’t even occur to me that this will be the second of many tonight, and I can’t hear over my own moaning to notice movement from the other end of the phone call.