Stop me if you've heard this, LOL.
About six years ago, the wife was taken ill. She spent two weeks in hospital and a while recovering. At her encouragement, actually her insistence, I bought a Fleshlight. She even whimsically participated in the selection process, and we ordered a Stoya/Destroya.
I tried it out and it was incredible! We hadn't been ready for what would happen.
After a few strokes with her watching, (I suppose this happens with most first-timers) it became impossible to avoid speeding up or pushing deeper. I think it must've been about 45 seconds before I felt my dick swell and my face flushed. I gasped, yelled and exploded into the biggest masturbation derived ball draining orgasm of my entire life, pumping sperm into Stoya's pleasure chambers until I nearly fainted.
A few days later I found myself on the Fleshlight website, with my credit card having replaced my dick in my right hand. I ordered some accessories and took advantage of a promotion to order a Bibi Jones/Bi-hive Fleshlight and a Nina Hartley/Cougar. Both were very satisfactory, but not as devastating as the Stoya Destroya.
Now we had to worry about storage, because our domestic situation was - er - complicated.
You see, we were providing live-in care for my nosy kid brother, a walking Rain Man, and my mother, whose body and brain were ravaged by terminal dementia,. Discovery of the not - exactly - discreet Fleshcases by either of these folks, both deeply loved but both utterly incapable of discretion, would only be a matter of time, and would be supremely awkward.
So I did what seemed like the prudent thing. I bought a small fireproof locking safety box with an electronic keypad lock. Life went on as before, except that the new "Mrs. Mickeys" gradually faded from the scene.
Remember the humorous twist I promised?
Wait for it...
A few years later, a vicious flare up of her rheumatoid arthritis put the wife on the sexual sidelines. I want to be patient and not hurt her feelings.
But man, I have needs too.
And right now one of them is a date with Stoya that ends with me blowing my load into her.
My dick twitching with anticipation, I tap out the combination on the keypad.
The lock rewards me with what I imagine must be the sound of an electronic cockroach being stepped on.
The batteries are dead, and the instruction label informs me that I need the override key.
Oh yeah???
Well,
I
CAN'T
FIND
THE
FUCKING
THING!!!
The irony of the situation is immediately apparent.
But I'm really not feeling like laughing.
There is no possible alternative reason I would want access to that box!!
The only living soul who might know where I put the key is the person to whom I'd really prefer not to say,
"Honey, where's the key to the box we keep my masturbators in? I really need a nice strong orgasm right now."
So, gentle reader(s), next morning, tools at the ready, I broke into the box without waking my darling, bought a replacement with enough space to store a few other items I can plausibly claim to be looking for next time I'm looking in it.
All this just so I can come without using my hands. And the reunion itself was blissful. With visions of a threesome with two Tylers - Liv and Alison - dancing in my head, my dick was throbbing. The first session was explosively short, ending in an orgasm that more than repaid the last two weeks' without release.
![User posted image](https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-uGLWc_8ftIc/X7P8BKOHinI/AAAAAAABQ5k/VFe_e9syBr8Ra7UBtlEiZt94SdYIFzhbgCLcBGAsYHQ/s539/toys118.gif)
![User posted image](https://thumb-p5.xhcdn.com/a/Ag3kmc1NkgQ1iGFiXy7muQ/000/241/162/895_1000.gif)
Now I can chuckle.