Fuck-Toy Monik

My husband stuck out his hand to the man and introduced himself. Mike introduced his wife, Monik (Moe-Neek’), and then turned to me expectantly.

“This is my wife, Fuck Toy.” My husband’s hand on my shoulder provides a little comfort as I shake Mike’s hand, then his wife’s hand, not looking into their eyes. I know what their faces look like: shock and confusion. They are thinking, “Did I hear him right?” He and his wife are looking into my eyes to see if I am oriental.

Now they are both trying to figure out how to ask again what my name is.

I like Monik immediately when she takes my arm and whispers she needs to go to the powder room and wants me to go with her. Perfect rejoinder to my husband’s deliberately shocking statement.

We giggle as we walk about the dresses the other women wore, the ugly picture on the wall, and the horrible-smelling flowers on the tables as centerpieces.

Monik closes the powder room door and looks me straight in the eye. “OK, tell me your name again, please.”

I smile. “Fuck Toy.”

She doesn’t even flinch. “Could you spell that for me, please?”

“F….U….C…K….T….O….Y.”

“So I am hearing it right then! Pray tell, how did you come by that name?”

I really like her now. I love a straightforward person that pulls no punches.

“I love to fuck, and my husband likes others to know he has a wife that meets his every need sexually, so he asked me if he could call me that. And I told him that if he did, I would never say ‘No’ to another man that tries to boff me.”

“Are you telling me that you can have sex with any man that you want to?”

“No, under our agreement, I have to entice the man to try to have me. If he does, I can decide if I want to respond, and if I do, I can have him. Dennis does not try to stop me. He loves calling me “fuck toy,” and it opens up all sorts of windows of opportunity for me.” I giggle as she absorbs my statement.

Her face is pensive as she realizes what I have told her means I am able to follow my lust anywhere I wish.

Her eyes stray to my abundant and exposed cleavage. “No bra?”

“Never, Monik; they get in the way and hide my nipples.”

“That was my next question, Toy. Can I call you Toy instead of the other?”

“Sure, Monik. …………. You should know that I am bi too.”

Again, her eyes probe me with unanswered questions and overflowing curiosity.

“Are you saying you like to make love to women too?”

“Yes, exactly right. Interested?” I watch her eyes move to my clearly outlined nipples. My nipples have long buttons, and my areolae dome, giving the impression that my nipples are even longer than they really are. They are so prominent that there is no way that a person cannot notice them from across the room at a party.

Her eyes stray down my blouse and fasten onto the dimple at the front of my skirt. My clit is clearly visible under my dress to anyone that looks as well.

Her eyes come back to my face, and her curiosity is clearly piqued. “Is that really your clitoris?” Her hand goes to her mouth, and she turns beet red. “Oh GOD! I can’t believe I just asked you that! What has come over me?”

I take her hand and place it on my dimple. “Feel it; see for yourself if it is really me.”

She does not remove her hand. I know now she is definitely intrigued. “Ever been with a woman before?”

“Oh god, no, never!” Her hand turns over, and one finger touches the tip of the dimple. Her face flushes, and her breathing rate increases. I see her breasts, small, petite, and firm, begin to move under her silk blouse. Her nipples also appear now as small dimples in the very center of her high, proud, translucent bra-clad breasts.

I hear my own body rapidly draw a gasp of pleasure from her touch. She looks up, and her eyes have lust for me in them. She is not yet admitting it to herself, but I turn her on.

I stroke her bare skin on the inner part of her forearm with the tips of my fingers. Her head swivels automatically to watch my advances. Her small mouthparts and her perfect teeth are visible through her soft, lightly red lips. Her tongue licks her lower lips in unwitting response and nervous anticipation of my potential seduction.

“Toy……………….”

I move my fingertips to her lips and stop her automatic rejection of my advances.

“Shhh, not tonight, Monik, but soon, honey. You want me, and I want you, and we shall have the delight of each other. Don’t worry, you will love it. Just enjoy the party tonight, baby.”

She slowly turns from me, head down in thought, and steps into a stall, closing the door behind her. I hear the rustle of her garments as she squats to relieve herself. I hear the paper-like sound of her pee, then the musical tinkling of it into the water of the ceramic bowl below her. Soon it stops, and I do not hear her as she sits there. I know what she is thinking.

“Toy?”

“Yes, baby.”

“Would you ride with me to Eugene tomorrow? I need to go over to pick up something for Mike. We could talk on the way over and back. I have so many questions I want to ask you.”

“I would love that, baby.” My secret smile of jubilation lights my face as I feel my wetness growing, seeking fulfillment. I know that many of her questions tomorrow will be answered in Braille.

* * *

“HI! How are you this morning, Monik?”

Her smile is slightly hesitant, almost to the point of admitting to me that she wishes she had not invited me to go along today.

“Good Toy, we have good weather to drive in at least.”

I look her in the eye and murmur, “Relax, baby, nothing is going to happen that you don’t want to happen, OK?”

I see her shoulders relax slightly. Her smile moves to the left of glacial.

I wait for her to unlock the passenger door. I slide into the seat of her new SUV and inhale the smell of new leather. I fasten my seat belt and settle in, placing my hands in my lap. Again, she relaxes slightly.

The radio is playing a sex advice podcast. She reaches for the radio and pushes a button that changes it to pop music.

I glance at her and say, “Don’t change it for me, sweetie; I love listening to this show; he is a real showboat and funny too.”

“Do you agree with him all the time?”

“No, about half the time, but he does make a lot of good points and makes me think. There are a lot of times I disagree with him, though.”

Again, I see her relax. “Mike is such a woos when it comes to thinking. Just tell him what to think, and that is what he will think, just as long as it comes from the far right. I hate ‘yes-men’ like that, and I am embarrassed that he is one.”

“Have you told him that, honey?”

“NO! I am afraid to tell him; he always takes my comments as putdowns. I have tried everything I can think of, but he always chooses to think I am putting him down. So I have just shut up for the last year.” Her collapsing face is ready to start shedding tears.

“Honey…” I realize this is a defining moment in our budding relationship. “Tough thing, having to disagree with someone you love so much, honey.”

The tears come now.

“Tell me what I can do to help you, Monik.”

“Well,” she stammers a little as she formulates her thoughts. “Well... you seem to be able to stand up to Dennis. You seem to be able to tell him what you want him to know, to do, and to let you do. I have come so close several times to having an affair, not with any particular man, but just to feel like I am cherished by a male figure. Do you know what I am trying to say, Toy?”

“You are questioning whether he even wants you anymore sexually?”

“YES! That’s it!”

The silence envelops us for a while. Her body relaxes, and I feel that she is accepting me as something other than a potential sex object.

“May I ask how long it has been since you two have made love, honey?”

She pauses, not to calculate but to swallow her exasperation. “Eight fucking months!”

“Oh, baby! I am so sorry to hear that.” Just a small white lie, right?

Her tears flood her pink cheeks, and I search my purse for Kleenex. “Here, honey, let me dry your tears before they smear your makeup.”

She turns her face toward me, and I dab gently at her tears. When I am satisfied that I have them all, I gently kiss her cheek with soft lips, then settle back into my seat.

I see her nipples harden slightly through her blouse as she feels my soft kiss. Her eyes shine a bit as she thinks more about having sex with me but not having to tell her husband because it is a woman, not a man, that has been with her. She has obviously thought this through overnight and knows she wants me but is not sure how this happens.

“Let me massage your shoulder as you drive, honey.” My hand is already kissing her shoulder, and I see her soften and relax more as she drives along. After a bit, I move my hand to her far shoulder and massage it. My nipple makes circles on the side of her breast as I massage the knots out of her tense shoulders.

“Oh god, Toy, that feels so good. God, I need that.”

I keep massaging, switching from one shoulder to the other. “I am going to climb into the back seat so I can do this right, Monik.”

I hike my dress up above my thighs and turn toward her as I “try” to get into the back seat. The whiteness of my plucked womanhood is clearly visible to her as I maneuver to get back there.

“Toy?...........................ummmm. Do you shave your...you know...?

“Well, no, I actually pluck my pussy, honey. That way I don’t have the stubbles and scratchies several days later. I am smooth as a baby’s bottom for several weeks this way.”

I know she wants to touch it, to feel it for herself. I stifle my grin, knowing for sure now that she will be mine before the day is out.

My massage from the back seat succeeds in relaxing her.

“Want to stop for lunch, Monik?” I point at a little restaurant that I know is wonderfully decorated and serves great women’s food. You know, salads... chocolate... It is also, conveniently, right next to a tidy little, well-decorated, and comfortable mini resort of quaint cottages.

“Have you ever stayed at that little motel before, Monik?” I inquire as we walk toward the restaurant.

“No, have you, Toy?” Her voice is slightly higher than it was before.

“Yes, it is so nice. Quiet, comfortable, private, cozy...” The smile on my face is dreamy now, as if I am recalling wonderful memories. Actually, I have very fond memories.

“Did you and Dennis stay there on one of your wonderful weekends away?”

“Oh! You have heard about them?”

“No, but if you are as good at sex as he says, I think you must take the time to get away. Mike refuses to leave town and have little overnight vacations.” Her mouth takes a small pout. I wish I could kiss her bottom lip as it protrudes slightly—so sexy, so soft-looking.

Our lunch is perfect and, of course, finished with chocolate. God, this silk pie is to die for.

“Ready to go get your business done in Eugene?” Her face struggles to not show her disappointment. Her mind has comprehended that she does want to feel my touch and wants to experience my kisses and caresses.