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Busted !

 

“Did you hear Jennifer Lopez has yet another new boyfriend?” 

“Why doesn’t that surprise me? Those Hollywood people.” 

Selina feigned a polite interest in her neighbors’ discussion and nodded knowingly while they continued commenting the star’s latest scandalous video.  Her face acted the part of a lively party companion, but the rest of her body, including her brain, was otherwise distracted. 

Bzzz.  Bzzz.  Bzzz. 

The vibrations were gentle―she knew better than to ruin her fun with haste―and were no more unsettling than the hand of a lover caressing a naked shoulder.  However, she missed their sensual teasing as soon as they stopped.  Her finger pressed the button again, sending another valve from the wireless remote in her pocket to the silver probe inside her vagina. 

Bzzz.  Bzzz.  Bzzz. 

Selina had started her secret solitary game three months before, at a Christmas dinner with her parents and siblings.  Recently separated, and now officially labelled the family spinster, she had reluctantly agreed to join the cheerful gang who were determined to give her no peace until she found another boyfriend and stuck with him, preferably with duly signed papers. 

At the last minute, she had decided to spice up the long winter Eve with a toy that had little to do with Santa’s basket: a wireless remote-controlled vibrator.  She had not really intended to use it; just knowing it was in her as she spoke to her ever-enquiring parents was entertaining in its own right.  But the evening had dragged on forever, and boredom got the better of her intentions.  Once she activated the buzzer, she was hooked.  Between the turkey and the ice-cream cake, she retreated to the bathroom and gave herself a nice orgasm.  After that, she was content to be a model daughter and sister until the twelve strokes of midnight. 

“Sel, would you like more wine?” 

“Sure, thanks.” 

While she held out her glass for refill, Selina took another look around at tonight’s guests.  She knew most of them.  They were Camille’s friends, invited to celebrate her 32nd birthday, the same people who came for her 31st birthday, and her 30th.  Next to her on the couch sat an Asian couple: the man, Mike, was considerably overweight, while the woman, Lisa, was as fragile as a porcelain doll.  Rick, Camille’s younger, reckless brother, was sprawled on an old-fashioned plastic cushion set near the stereo.  As usual, he irritated everyone by zapping between songs on the stereo with the speed of a deejay on acid.  

On the couch facing Selina on the other side of the coffee table sat David, a blond athlete, and another couple, Frances and Jon, who rivalled the Sex Pistols at being as loud and crude as possible.  David, handsome and reasonably cultivated, had once been a potential dating candidate, and Selina had hit on him, only to find out he was gay and completely deprived of interest for the female gender.  Camille, an old childhood friend, was the only woman he socialized with.  Since his cold rebuff, Selina had never quite felt confident around him. 

Next to them, Camille shared a stool with her boyfriend of the moment, Perry.  A quiet, invisible boy utterly devoted to her, who spent most of the evening following her into the kitchen or wrapping his arms possessively around her waist when she sat on his lap. 

Finally, on a separate chair between the couches flanking Selina, was a man she’d never met, a new colleague of Camille’s.  She vaguely suspected he’d been invited for her benefit, and she had been intrigued by this slightly older man, with the beginning of a receding hairline, but eyes acute and sharp with intelligence.  However, Preston―that was his name―had hardly spoken a word to her, his attention seemingly monopolized by the provocative laughs of Frances. 

Although she loved to spend time alone with sweet, sane Camille, Selina had always found her friends to be tedious, verging on the terminally boring.  But she admitted that she was the one who didn’t fit such company.  She never watched soaps, didn’t listen to pop music, and had no interest in clubs, gymnasiums or shopping malls.  Conversely, few people cared about the books she read, or the independent rock bands she liked to check out before they became commercial.  Rare were those who shared her passion for exotic travel and adventurous treks.  And rarer still those who had a similar eagerness for sexual kinks and related entertainment.  

Most of the time, she felt like the black sheep awaiting sympathetic companions to show up in her life.  For that, she would have to move to another, bigger city, and that was precisely what she had planned for the fall.  A new job, a new town, a new life. 

“What goes in hard and pink, but comes out soft and mushy?” 

That was Jon’s sixth sex joke in an hour. 

“Bubblegum!” 

Frances shrieked, although she must have heard the joke before, and all the men, except David, sneered.  Selina tried to go for the gracious approach of the other women, smiling indulgently while shaking her head at man’s eternal stupidity.  At the same time, she fished into her pocket where her expert finger set the vibrator on its medium setting and launched a series of proper grindings.  While the party continued with jokes of the same calibre, she settled comfortably in the couch and enjoyed the internal turmoil nobody could witness. 

She had to be cautious, though.  After her successful Christmas premiere, she had used the vibrator on repeated occasions, mostly at work.  Hidden behind her desk and computer screen, she could squirm and squeeze without anyone’s notice.  When the tension grew to a critical mass, she hastened to the bathroom to finish herself off and remove the probe.  One day, she had waited too long, and a secretary had entered her office just as she felt the first spasms mount in her loins.  She was aware of the flush in her face and the steeliness of her body.  She tried to tell the girl to come back later, but she inadvertently pressed on the remote while she spoke, and the combination of fear, shame and arousal provoked the unwanted outburst.  In a moment of panic, she doubled over in a mockery of a tummy ache attack, then screamed for a glass of water.  When the girl returned, Selina had composed herself and was able to fake more gastric spasms.  After swallowing a pill, she went home.  Nothing ever transpired of her adventure, and she concluded that the young secretary had bought her story.  It was, however, a good lesson learned.  Never again would she try to hold out for so long. 

But the need to come was many vibrations away.  At this early stage, the tiny source of heat sent its soothing glow throughout her body, deepened her breathing and relaxed her features.  Selina knew these manifestations of sexual desire could pass for side effects of alcohol.  Anxious to fool her audience, she sipped more wine and giggled at the latest gossip coming from her right.  On her left, Preston was staring at her with regained curiosity.  She attempted a smile; he replied with one of his own.  Then he immediately turned away to continue his conversation with the ever-manipulating Frances. 

After giving herself a new rush of hormones, Selina got up and, clenching her vagina as she walked, went to squat on the floor between Rick and the stereo.  They talked about music until Camille interrupted all conversations. 

“Buffet’s ready!  Please help yourself.  If you need new glasses, there’s a stash in the kitchen.” 

All the while making sure the vibrator wasn’t sliding out of her, Selina joined her companions in the corner where appetizing dishes were on display.  As she picked out her selection, she found herself in the centre of a cluster of bodies and arms, all aiming in the same direction. 

“Careful, there’s plenty for everyone,” she said before squeezing out of the group. 

Selina returned to her place on the couch and started eating.  Soon the room was filled with munching noises and the occasional compliments to the cook. 

Selina brought her fork to her mouth when the sudden start of the vibrator made her jump. 

“You’re okay?”  Lisa asked. 

“Er, yes, sorry.  Hiccup!” 

“The lady can’t take the wine,” Jon laughed. 

Selina waited until everyone returned their attention to the food before checking her pocket.  She felt faint.  The remote was gone. 

As if to prove her worse suspicions, the probe surged back to life again.  For a few minutes. 

She glanced around, studying faces and hands.  Nobody was watching her, or even grinning in silence.  All held their hands upfront, holding the plates.  Still, the remote couldn’t function on its own.  Somebody was playing with her. 

She contemplated going to the bathroom and getting rid of the plug, but she found she actually enjoyed the challenge.  Depending on who was raising it for her. 

Nothing happened until she finished her meal, at the same time as Lisa and David, and they all laid their plates on the table.  Others got up for a refill.  

Selina crossed her hands in her lap, hiding her crotch. 

At the same instant, the vibrator provoked her.  She didn’t flinch, but checked around her once again.  Camille’s boyfriend was in the kitchen.  Mike and Preston, their backs to her, were helping themselves with more food.  Rick was fumbling with the CDs.  David was talking to Camille.  His left hand was nonchalantly thrown over the back of the couch, out of sight.  Jon kept eating, but Selina found the way he held his plate was peculiar.  Could he be hiding the remote under it?  It was small and thin, and easy to conceal.  

She dismissed the girls as potential tormentors.  Most had their hands in plain sight, and, apart from Frances, who would have giggled by now, she couldn’t see any of them playing such a trick on her. 

Whoever was controlling her sex toy was also controlling his manners. 

Selina decided she would find him out before she conceded defeat. 

During the next half hour, Selina lived on the edge of fervor.  While she tried her best to take part in conversations as casually as she could, both to please Camille and displease her unknown challenger, the vibrator burst to life at random.  Sometimes it would only grind for a few seconds; other times it lingered until she gave in to an impatient movement of her hips.  She was getting increasingly uncomfortable, uncertain of what was her worst predicament: the physical teasing of the dildo, or the mental dominance of a stranger.  Both definitely accounted for the rise in her body temperature. 

Like a game of Clue, she eliminated potential opponents one by one when their two hands were clearly visible. 

For a long time, her best guess was Rick, who always conveniently turned away from them to mess with the CD player.  But when she stared at him with what she hoped was a look of complicity, he raised his eyes in an “are you drunk?” kind of expression. 

In the end, there was only Preston and Jon left.  She feared the loud, sexist man would be the one, but hoped her neat neighbour would surprise her with a secret, evil streak. 

In any case, whoever was pressing on the remote had decided to test her limits.  She felt if she didn’t confront him within ten minutes, she would come right there and then.  She thought getting up to help herself more wine would help, but keeping her poise while her loins were dancing the samba proved more difficult than sitting quietly. 

Feeling flushed and sweaty, Selina began to stare longingly at the door leading out to the bathroom. 

But when she finally made a light move to get up again, Preston’s foot touched hers.  Startled, she looked right into his eyes and read the answer to her riddle. 

When he smiled, he seemed to encourage her to hold on.  Selina felt she couldn’t resist the man and composed her face to indicate bravery and connivance.  She would keep the vibrator inside her until Preston decided otherwise.  This was a fun night, after all. 

Now that Selina knew her opponent, and liked him, she found it easier to relax and enjoy the occasional vibrations with relative comfort.  She convinced herself that Preston was gentleman enough to avoid bringing her too far, in which she was wrong. 

While some of the guests had a third helping, and conversations all round took a turn for the sillier, Preston pushed the setting of the vibrator on maximum.  Selina darted a furious glance at him, but he ignored her by laughing loudly with Frances on the other side. 

Selina fidgeted and tried to push the probe out a little, but she knew she had inserted it deep enough to secure its position.  Her large but tight underwear was an additional precaution she never omitted, either.  Busted by her own crime. 

Preston was now fooling with her without mercy.  Selina felt feverish, and her eyes welled up with contained tension.  She kept turning to her shameless neighbor, but he refused to acknowledge her distress, let alone make it stop.  Yet, something in her wanted to resist, and, once again, she struggled to keep a straight face and take part in the general banter.  She found momentary relief by crossing her legs, but soon the vibrations reverberated even stronger. 

To consolidate her alibi, she drank more, which led to several comments on her advanced state of inebriation.  If only they knew. 

“Are you okay, Selina?” 

It was Lisa, sitting by her side, getting worried.  Selina was breathing too hard, and squirming too much.  She couldn’t imagine how her face would look like. 

“Yeah,” she managed to say.  “I’m just a bit drunk.” 

And that close to exploding, she thought to herself. 

At that moment, the lights went out, and someone started singing a familiar song in the kitchen, soon continued by everyone at the party. 

Selina caught sight of candles burning in the dark just as another salve of vibrations did their worst to her G-spot.  She closed her eyes, bit her lips, and shook until the song was over. 

When the light returned and everyone else got up to congratulate Camille, she lay stunned on the couch, smiling stupidly at Preston. 

Maybe she wouldn’t have to move out.  The little town had potential worth exploring.   

Copyright © 2006 by Chelsea Shepard.  All rights reserved.

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