When the toy was delivered, I hid the package in shame. I didn’t want to open it, much less use it, but my best friend insisted I try out her gift. She loved hers, bragging about the toe-curling orgasms, but I preferred holding out for the real thing and locking the toy away in my closet indefinitely.

Its exile ended in a matter of days. One night, temptation got the better of me. It fit snugly, reaching unexplored depths that further lubricated the toy and contorted my face. I didn’t have to compromise my pleasure, after all, I was just accepting a gift.