The dildo was a work of art.

Hand-blown glass, crystal clear with embedded squiggles of red and yellow, it thrust up from the glass shelf like a stalagmite, gleaming and catching glints of the late afternoon sun.

Allison glanced at the price tag and nearly gasped aloud. Resolutely, she returned her attention to the novelties she was supposed to be buying for Sharon's bachelorette party.

But as she perused dick-shaped suckers and fuzzy pink handcuffs, she stole glimpses.

On her way to the door, plain brown paper bag in hand, she stopped for one last look. The glass shaft twinkled in a stray sunbeam, as if winking at her. She peered at the price again. Ridiculous! Maybe, if it was still here come payday...

It was.

Allison hurried home, much-smaller paper bag nestled discreetly in the bottom of her secondhand Vuitton handbag.

Alone in her dinky living room, she reverently unwrapped her prize. It was oddly cool to her touch. This was no toy, like that silly, absurdly pink thing Miranda had given her. This was weighty, solid, serious. The blunt torpedo shape was meant for nothing more, or less, than penetrating her most intimate part.

Now that she'd gotten it home, she was oddly hesitant. She stood it on her nightstand and turned on the shower.

When she got out, warm and flushed and pink, it was waiting patiently. Sleek. Unyielding. Implacable. There would be no give to it, no warmth other than what traces her own body might impart.

She shivered.

Allison peeled back the covers and sat on the edge of her bed. She caught sight of herself in the mirror over the dresser and paused. Slowly, she parted her legs. Her reflected pussy peeped back, soft and pale, surrounded by wispy blonde curls. It hardly looked equal to what lay ahead.

Allison touched the dildo to one nipple, then the other. Under its cool caress, they crinkled and shrank. Reluctant to warm the dildo, she put it down. She cupped a breast in each hand, pinching and tugging the nipples. An answering tingle stirred deep in her belly.

"You wait," she scolded.

She wet her fingers and rolled a nipple between them. Her breath quickened. She rocked forward, grinding her pelvis against the mattress. The soft cotton sheets gave her nothing.

Allison whimpered. She slid to the edge of the bed and placed a hand on each thigh, spreading them further. Her fingers were cool against their warmth. Her own scent rose up to her, mingled with jasmine body wash.

"Oh, Allie! You're a naughty, horny girl, aren't you?"

With a fingertip, she ruffled the soft hair on her outer lips. The sensation made her want to thrust her hand hard against her pussy, to clamp her thighs tight around it and ride it hard until she came.

She tapped her clit twice with the same finger. "Patience, patience."