hard plastic case, and did as Vick asked. Then, again, he made her pass out with his spectacular dong.
The next time she saw Vick, he had ping pong balls, which she feared losing but which, he later reported, did indeed come out. Then a large, old-model iPod. Then a cordless phone. The phone worked. He requested she call it while blowing him.
Three weeks into what passed for their relationship, Autumn found a can of baked beans in the nightstand.
“I don’t think this will fit,” she said.
“Shove that can of beans up my ass!” Vick yelled, holding his ankles.
Vick knew his ass better than Autumn. It went in fine, but she really feared losing the beans because the can was so wide and relatively short. How could you poop out a can of beans if it got stuck? So she went into the kitchen and pulled duct tape out of the junk drawer, then taped a large coaster to the end, fashioning the world’s worst butt plug. Then she climbed onto his amazing cock, felt it fill every crevice of her pussy, and rode it until Vick filled her with spunk and made her cum, maybe harder than she ever had before.
Looking at the beans butt plug gave Autumn an idea. She went to a sex shop and bought the most enormous dildos and butt plugs she could find. All, unlike cans of beans, were designed for going into bodily orifices, with safeguards and everything. She presented them to Vick stark naked, shaking her tits and stroking her pussy with her free hand, excited that their sex life could finally become kinky instead of flat-out fucked-up. Sex toys, after all, were just sex toys.
Vick looked at the bag of enormous anal instruments and shrugged.
“You don’t like them?”
He shrugged again, as if embarrassed. Autumn didn’t like sexual embarrassment. She always wanted to assuage it, to tell the pervert in question that all was okay.
“What? You can tell me.”
“I just… like stuff ,” he said.
“It’s not just the size? The sensation of big stuff up there?”
“I like stuff ,” he repeated, his head down.
Poor guy. Poor, poor guy, ashamed of his desires. Autumn told him it was okay. She could donate the sex toys to Goodwill, who loved her anyway. And she said she’d shove whatever he wanted up his ass.
Vick said he wanted the vacuum cleaner hose up his ass.
“With the vacuum on?” said Autumn. “Because I think that might be dangerous, like you could suck out your duodenum.” She’d once taken a physiology course and was proud to have recalled the word, even though she couldn’t remember where it was within the intestines’ topology.
“No, not on ,” said Vick, indicating that that would be a bizarre request.
“Just the hose.”
“Just the hose,” said Vick, laying back on the bed.
The next time Autumn saw Vick, he said he wanted a book up his ass.
“I don’t think that’s possible,” she said.
“Not a big book,” he said, holding up a thick little book that was a slightly larger than a deck of cards. “Just this pocket Italian phrasebook.”
“Oh, sure,” said Autumn. And up it went.
The next time, it was the controller to a Sony PlayStation. Vick told Autumn to leave it plugged in, then used his ass to attempt to play video games. He wasn’t very good at playing with his ass. Autumn beat him soundly despite the hand that one of her hands was always being used to jerk him off. When Autumn scored her final goal in FIFA Soccer, Vick jizzed all over her hand while yelling, “Goooooooal!”
A few times after that, he wanted a remote control robot up his ass. He then got dressed and they went to a Wal Mart while Autumn followed behind him with a remote control. Vick blew a load in the home repair aisle when Autumn used the grasper arm. The load dribbled down his leg and splotched onto the tile floor in a pool. A little kid tugged on his mother’s arm just after Vick and Autumn were clear, pointed at it, and said,
The next time she saw Vick, he had ping pong balls, which she feared losing but which, he later reported, did indeed come out. Then a large, old-model iPod. Then a cordless phone. The phone worked. He requested she call it while blowing him.
Three weeks into what passed for their relationship, Autumn found a can of baked beans in the nightstand.
“I don’t think this will fit,” she said.
“Shove that can of beans up my ass!” Vick yelled, holding his ankles.
Vick knew his ass better than Autumn. It went in fine, but she really feared losing the beans because the can was so wide and relatively short. How could you poop out a can of beans if it got stuck? So she went into the kitchen and pulled duct tape out of the junk drawer, then taped a large coaster to the end, fashioning the world’s worst butt plug. Then she climbed onto his amazing cock, felt it fill every crevice of her pussy, and rode it until Vick filled her with spunk and made her cum, maybe harder than she ever had before.
Looking at the beans butt plug gave Autumn an idea. She went to a sex shop and bought the most enormous dildos and butt plugs she could find. All, unlike cans of beans, were designed for going into bodily orifices, with safeguards and everything. She presented them to Vick stark naked, shaking her tits and stroking her pussy with her free hand, excited that their sex life could finally become kinky instead of flat-out fucked-up. Sex toys, after all, were just sex toys.
Vick looked at the bag of enormous anal instruments and shrugged.
“You don’t like them?”
He shrugged again, as if embarrassed. Autumn didn’t like sexual embarrassment. She always wanted to assuage it, to tell the pervert in question that all was okay.
“What? You can tell me.”
“I just… like stuff ,” he said.
“It’s not just the size? The sensation of big stuff up there?”
“I like stuff ,” he repeated, his head down.
Poor guy. Poor, poor guy, ashamed of his desires. Autumn told him it was okay. She could donate the sex toys to Goodwill, who loved her anyway. And she said she’d shove whatever he wanted up his ass.
Vick said he wanted the vacuum cleaner hose up his ass.
“With the vacuum on?” said Autumn. “Because I think that might be dangerous, like you could suck out your duodenum.” She’d once taken a physiology course and was proud to have recalled the word, even though she couldn’t remember where it was within the intestines’ topology.
“No, not on ,” said Vick, indicating that that would be a bizarre request.
“Just the hose.”
“Just the hose,” said Vick, laying back on the bed.
The next time Autumn saw Vick, he said he wanted a book up his ass.
“I don’t think that’s possible,” she said.
“Not a big book,” he said, holding up a thick little book that was a slightly larger than a deck of cards. “Just this pocket Italian phrasebook.”
“Oh, sure,” said Autumn. And up it went.
The next time, it was the controller to a Sony PlayStation. Vick told Autumn to leave it plugged in, then used his ass to attempt to play video games. He wasn’t very good at playing with his ass. Autumn beat him soundly despite the hand that one of her hands was always being used to jerk him off. When Autumn scored her final goal in FIFA Soccer, Vick jizzed all over her hand while yelling, “Goooooooal!”
A few times after that, he wanted a remote control robot up his ass. He then got dressed and they went to a Wal Mart while Autumn followed behind him with a remote control. Vick blew a load in the home repair aisle when Autumn used the grasper arm. The load dribbled down his leg and splotched onto the tile floor in a pool. A little kid tugged on his mother’s arm just after Vick and Autumn were clear, pointed at it, and said,
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