Realistic Harness

Rachel tore the tape away with trembling fingers, the cardboard flaps springing open like they were a christmas present. Inside, nestled in black tissue paper, lay exactly what she’d ordered: an ultra-realistic strap-on that looked almost indecently alive.

She looks at it,her mind already getting dirtier with the possibilities this toy would gave her.

The shaft was thick and heavy in her hand, the silicone warm from the packaging, every vein and subtle ridge molded with obsessive detail. The color was a natural flush, the head slightly broader and darker, the underside carrying that soft, realistic give that made it flex like real flesh.

At the base, a pair of weighty, sculpted balls hung low, shifting slightly when she lifted it.

Even the scent was there—clean, faintly musky, like skin after a shower.(she wonders,if that´s how a true cock would smell, as she often fantasizes when looking at her colleagues big bulges at work).

Rachel’s breath caught.

She turned it over, admiring the way the light caught on the faint sheen, the way the material warmed instantly to her palm.(she always dreamed at holding a lover´s cock)

A small suction cup sat at the very base, strong enough to stick to any smooth surface, but the harness—soft black leather straps with rose-gold buckles—lay coiled beside it like a promise.

She stood there in the middle of her living room, still completely naked, goosebumps prickling across her pale skin from the earlier dash outside.

The memory of the neighbor’s indifferent glance flashed through her mind, but instead of shame, a low, liquid heat pooled between her thighs.

Rachel bit her lip, a slow smile spreading as she carried the toy to the couch.

She sat down, legs parting without thinking, and held the dildo upright between her breasts, letting the weight of it rest against her sternum.

It reached almost to her chin. The sight of it—so blatantly erotic against her small, bare chest—sent a fresh shiver through her.

She traced one finger along the underside, from the soft sac to the flared head, imagining how it would feel pressed against her, inside her, or—her pulse spiked—strapped tight to her hips while someone knelt in front of her, mouth open, wide-eyed and willing.(She thinks that david from HR would look adorable calling her mommy while sucking her strap).

Rachel exhaled shakily. The house was quiet, sunlight slanting through the blinds, striping her naked body in warm bars of light.

No one to judge. No one to stop her.

She reached for the harness.