Tap(Gay)

Yes, one tap. That's it. It's not like that makes you gay.

...

Your hand comes up, then stops midair. Oh, right. Better not look at its face or you might get self-conscious. Also...

You then reach behind, dragging the curtain shut with a quick motion. No prying eyes should see this either. Her or anything else in this place.

"No homo," you also announce for good measure.

Once everything is set, your index finger presses forward.

...

It... It ain't solid... It gives...

You jerk slightly at the sensation. It's not plastic. Not even close. The satin stretches under your touch, and beneath it... There's something soft and warm, pulsing against your fingertip with a steady rhythm...

"H-holy shit," you whisper. "It is real."

You tap it slower to see if it's true. If you are losing your mind. The way it yields, the way the fabric shifts, the subtle resistance underneath like...

No. Stop... Don't finish that thought.

Just know you press a little longer to be sure.

...

Suddenly, the curtain snaps open.

You flinch back, but not enough to let the man out of your peripheral vision. The security woman stands there, arms crossed as if she's found something fun to watch.

For a second, you just stare back, your hand very much still there.

Then you pull the curtain closed again. Firmly. To tell her she's not allowed to.

Nope. Not dealing with that right now.

...

Your attention drops back down.

The fabric feels slick under your fingers, whispering as they slide its surface. Static prickles lightly against your skin, tiny shocks that make your hand twitch.

It's... a new feeling... Different...

...

Your hand brushes to the right, touching skin this time...

And so... You get curious how that would feel between your fingers. While your hand drifts, you swallow. You're pinching its thigh...

It's... smooth... Impossibly so. Warm in a way this thing shouldn't be. The surface catches the light with that same unnatural sheen, but under your fingers it feels... wrong. Neither male nor female. All they know is it is perfectly shaped to be touched.

Your grip tightens slightly before you let go.

"...Okay," you mutter, like that explains anything.

But it doesn't...

...

You stop thinking whether it's aware, and you definitely stop thinking about the other one behind you. This is just... experimenting. That's all.

Your fingers wander its legs again. Tap... Press... Slide... Testing reactions that don't show...

Like a stress ball. Yeah... That's all this is...

...

Your next touch comes with hesitation.

There's something sitting at the edge of your thoughts now. It's not you. It's like... a way of speaking you never heard, urging and suggesting.

It would feel better without the fabric.

It's not gay.

It's just a plastic doll.

It's only a little bit of fun.

...

You let out a short, shaky laugh. You don't want to but you do.

"Yeah, okay..." you whisper. "That's..."

Your voice trails off, the tone losing conviction.

The thoughts don't go away...