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passage, which is wet and slick and ready. I spread my legs
farther. However, the facilitator’s size is considerable. Whenever there is
resistance, Phineas pulls the device downward and then pushes upward again
until it is slick with my honey. Can I accommodate the cylinder’s full length?
    Apparently so. It enters me fully and the muscles in my
thighs clench. The facilitator fills me, stretches me, and the skin at the
entrance to my cunny sings with delight.
    “Tell me what pleases you most,” he says.
    Phineas plays with the knobs and the beads suddenly swirl
inside me, providing me with a delectable erotic massage. Never have I been
stimulated in this manner before. With a flick of his finger, Phineas makes the
beads spin in a different motion, in quick circular strokes, pressing against
the walls of my cunny, making my nerve endings tingle in response. I gasp and
moan.
    “What about this?”
    Another flick of his knowledgeable finger and the beads seem
to align themselves, spinning in rows in strong, even movements that threaten
to drive me mad. Each bead seems to generate heat, and warmth seeps into me,
lighting up my very core. Every time the beads sweep the flesh at the nexus of
my cunny and nether lips, a cry breaks from my throat.
    “That’s it,” I whisper, my throat so dry I can barely speak.
“Wonderful. Continue. Continue. Continue.”
    When I begin to believe there is no sensation in existence
more powerful or more gratifying, Phineas activates the clitoral stimulator.
The moment the twin prongs make contact with my pearl, my body becomes rigid.
The stimulator whirrs and hums. Phineas plays with the switches and the speed
of the stimulator varies, becoming a steady pulse, followed by a rapid
hummingbird rhythm.
    “Which do you prefer? Tell me.”
    My mouth opens. No sound comes out. “The-the-steady, pulsing
rhythm. The first one.”
    “Like this?”
    Bursts of sensation shoot through my body, making me so
dizzy I don’t know how much longer I can remain standing. I place both hands on
Phineas’ shoulders to steady myself. Through half-open eyes, I watch him as he holds
his facilitator deep in my cunny. When he looks up at me, sheer joy lights up
his face. He is thrilled that his carnal device is sending me to seventh
heaven.
    As am I.
    He wants me to experience pleasure. How novel. Men normally
only care about their own needs, never about mine. Phineas is a different breed
of man entirely.
    Burst after burst of carnal bliss jolts my nubbin. The
intensity of it blinds me to everything around me. Soon, as my climax
approaches, I close my eyes, shutting out Phineas. I focus only on the beads,
the stimulator, the strong steady rhythms that rack me with pleasure so intense
it is indescribable. Every nerve in my cunny and nubbin is alive. Climax is
approaching. Nearer. Nearer. So rapid. So unexpected and effortless. Such incredibly
overwhelming feelings. Swirling, massaging, rubbing, flicking. I am
lightheaded, woozy with sensation.
    “Faster.” My breath escapes in a hiss. “Increase the speed
of the stimulator! Slightly more pressure, ever so slight!”
    Phineas is skilled. No sooner do I utter the words than he
compensates. My climax comes quickly and so powerfully it catches me by
surprise. My fingers never produced this sensation, and for the clitoral
stimulation to be coupled with the delicious sweeping motion of the beads is beyond
description. Spasm after spasm racks my core. My hips rock forward as my pearl
seeks additional stimulation.
    I throw back my head and call out, “Phineas! Phineas!” My
orgasm consumes me.
    After the spasms calm, and the muscles in my thighs stop
shaking, I realize my fingernails have tightened around Phineas’ shoulders,
leaving vivid half-moons in his skin. I also realize every single person in
attendance downstairs must have heard my lusty screams.
    “I believe the ladies at Carnal Pleasures are quite jealous
of you at the moment,” he says with a