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Marvin never goes to sex shops. Never.
Before, he considered toys to be for insecure people, for someone whose sex life was so boring that they needed something more to make it more enjoyable.
Until he met Whizzer.
Whizzer had a fair amount of toys. Of course, being addicted to sex and shopping, this didn't surprise anyone. And it wasn't like he had Christian Grey's Red Room or anything like that, but even so, it was much more than Marvin ever thought existed.
And he convinced Marvin to try them. He didn't push it, obviously, just asked if he wanted to watch Whizzer masturbating with a vibrator and, wow, Marvin quickly abandoned his prejudices.
He sat quietly in the chair, placed by Whizzer facing their bed, ordered not to touch himself, under threat of being tied up. He watched everything with shining eyes, drooling like a dog admiring a roast chicken.
Whizzer, a born exhibitionist, reveled in all the attention he was receiving, spreading his legs wide so Marvin could see as much as possible. He watched the toy sliding in and out of Whizzer, imagining that he could be the one providing that pleasure.
The next step was accepting Whizzer's offer to use the toys on Marvin. Marvin is terrible at saying what he wants, so you have to be attentive and ask. It's rare that he takes the initiative, even less so with things considered "unmanly."
But it didn't take long for them to test that too. They were stretched out on the sofa, kissing, when Marvin asked Whizzer to use "that thing that looks like a microphone and vibrates" on him.
Marvin lay down on the sofa, naked from the waist down, letting Whizzer settle between his legs. Sweating with anxiety and anticipation, as he always did when they were about to try something new.
The vibration seemed a little menacing, even at the lowest setting. Whizzer reassured him, saying there was no danger and that if he wanted to stop, he just had to tell him to turn off the toy.
Marvin said he wasn't a scaredy-cat. He could handle Whizzer, so nothing else fazed him.
The toy's first touch on Marvin's skin was on his thigh. Just so he could see what it was like. Then it went up, up, and up until his hips involuntarily arched. Whizzer laughed and Marvin blushed.
His breathing was already heavy when the toy touched his penis. The older man's nails dug into the sofa fabric and Whizzer's skin. When the device touched his glans, he howled and threw his head back.
"It's so good, don't stop, don't stop..." he repeated as he writhed in pleasure when the vibrations increased by one, then two levels.
Whizzer watched everything with a slightly sadistic passion. He, untouched, controlling how much pleasure his beloved would feel. It was fun. He says Marvin can only come if he asks nicely, otherwise he'll turn it off and put the toy away. In response, Marvin whimpers and begs, please, please, please, I'll do anything you want, please, anything, and Whizzer increases the intensity even more. Marvin literally cries, two or three tears streaming down his face as he sobs and arches his back.
Whizzer finally gives in and says he can come. He groans so loudly that maybe the neighbors heard, maybe the building superintendent will send a reprimand, but nothing matters when he has Marvin crying and complaining of overstimulation beautifully, with a flushed face and his belly and thighs covered in cum. It would make a beautiful picture.
They clean themselves with a damp towel and cuddle in bed. Whizzer reminds Marvin that he promised to "do anything you want, anything." Marvin asks how he wants to spend the voucher, and Whizzer replies that they should have lunch at the Mexican restaurant that just opened down the street sometime. They laugh, lazy and sleepy. Marvin says he thinks it's a fair price to pay, and they both fall asleep.
Okay, Marvin no longer has any problem with Whizzer using sex toys, and no problem using them himself. But going to a sex shop is something no one can convince him to do.
Imagine if someone finds out? Imagine if he runs into an acquaintance? Imagine if his son sees him? Imagine the humiliation? Imagine that horrible hypothetical scenario that probably won't happen, and even if it does, it will only become an embarrassing situation that those involved will just pretend never happened?
But honestly, Whizzer doesn't complain. Because, thanks to his aversion to entering any store geared towards sex products, sometimes Marvin does the sexiest thing in the world (in Whizzer's opinion, of course): hand him his credit card and say, "Go ahead and buy whatever you want, I'll pay."
That sequence of words almost gives him an orgasm.
The purchase this time was a collar. A collar with a leash, more specifically. Black and leather, very pretty, and a little expensive. They had mentioned pet play a while ago, so it came at a good time.
Marvin grimaces when he sees it, but Whizzer knows it's just a pose and he quickly gives in. They talk about plans for the night and Marvin exposes his neck for Whizzer to put it on. The dark color contrasts beautifully with the man's fair skin, and he looks even more beautiful naked, kneeling on the floor with his head resting on Whizzer's thigh, like an obedient puppy. They are still talking about boundaries, what they want or don't want to do, but Whizzer already discovers that Marvin melts when he pulls him by the leash.
Whizzer teaches his beloved some tricks, as he would with a real dog. Sit, lie down, roll over, give paw, spin, and Marvin learns very quickly, clever as he is.
The night ends with Whizzer letting him fuck him, since he behaved so well. Whizzer leans against the headboard of the bed, with Marvin right behind, holding his hips with a force that will probably leave marks. The rhythm is fierce, feverish, like that of an animal that cannot control itself.
So Whizzer pulls him by the leash and tells him to slow down. When Marvin is almost about to climax and speeds up unintentionally, Whizzer pulls a little more and tells him to slow down again. He does this until Marvin is panting and gasping wildly, as if he'd just finished a marathon.
"Want to come?" He asks, pulling on the leash until Marvin coughs up a choking cough. Marvin nods quickly, anyway. "Then bark."
Marvin, completely devoid of his usual harsh sarcasm and sense of embarrassment thanks to the subspace, obeys. It's not quite a bark, it sounds more like a husky crying or a dying chicken, but it's so pathetic and adorable that Whizzer appreciates his effort.
"Good boy" He gives one last tug before Marvin climaxes with a loud moan, precariously muffled by a bite on his beloved's shoulder. He keeps going even after orgasm, even after feeling the pain of overstimulation, and Whizzer ejaculates in his own hand, completely satisfied.
They clean themselves up, Marvin lies down on the bed and calms down. Whizzer caresses his face, saying he looked beautiful and behaved perfectly and that he's bursting with pride.
Once Marvin is more conscious, they start talking. What Marvin needs (a hug and a head rub, please), how he feels (satisfied and affectionate, but tired), and everything else.
"My next purchase will be a plug with a tail, what do you think?" Whizzer asks while playing with his boyfriend's hair. He could be serious or joking, it just depends on how Marvin interprets it.
He smiles, eyes closed, nestled against Whizzer.
"Buy a really cute one. Don't look at the price. I'll pay."