A Gift That Keeps On Giving

Casey and Victoria stare at the pair of double-ended dildos sitting in an empty box. Both women laugh at once, the sound cracking through the quiet room. Casey wipes her hands on a dish towel and squats down for a closer look. “God, they actually gave us these.” Victoria nudges the nearest shaft with one toe, its length wobbling. “Stupid party gag,” she says, but there’s heat in her voice already. A few beats later the laughter turns into nervous fidgeting. Casey bites her bottom lip. “We could, I don’t know, give one a test run? Waste not and all.” Victoria meets her eyes and the smirk slides into something hungrier. The paper plates and champagne flutes stay on the counter. The toys move onto the bed. Casey loses her skirt first. Victoria slides behind her, coat still on, kisses the back of her neck, and slips two slick fingers between her cheeks. The first stretch is easy. They keep going. Casey braces on the headboard while Victoria’s whole hand sinks, palm vanishing, wrist deep, in controlled little pulses. Casey groans, gasps, rocks back, pushing, until knuckles disappear inside. Victoria’s other hand cups her own pussy and gives it quick circles. They switch sides. Victoria on her knees now, Casey wrist-deep in her ass, the second dildo hanging from Victoria’s mouth like she’s daring the rubber to droop. Slick runs down their thighs. They forget the lube at some point and switch to slick, body-warm spit. Both laugh between moans, tongue against tongue, leaning into each other. The double-ended toys finally come into play. Casey angles the longer one between her legs, pushes back, and Victoria takes the other end at the same time, bodies lining up ass-to-ass. Hip bones touch, push, retreat. The dildo works both holes, every thrust keeping the two of them pinned together, breathing loud. One girl grabs the other’s ankle and pulls, changing the angle; the toy hits deeper and both of them swear at once. When the shorter toy comes out, it gets used again for Victoria’s pussy while Casey keeps fist-fucking her ass in a slow piston rhythm. Finally they collapse side-by-side, wrists sore, thighs shaking, the toy still buried between them. Outside the strip of daylight shrinks. Inside they trade lazy kisses, sweat cooling, quietly glad the “gag gift” came with an instruction manual they wrote on the spot.