“Is he all right?” Mike asked as he buckled his belt.
“Get out!” Helena roared.
Mike meeped and followed his twink du jour, slamming the door behind him.
“What is happening to him?” Paul demanded as Helena stepped back.
“He needs to lay an egg,” Helena said, shoving me around the desk. Behind it, because Mike was a kitschy bitch, was a cheap dressing screen with printed flowers on it.
“What.”
“Stupid child,” Helena muttered at me. “We’re going to have some words, you can trust me on that. But first, get that thing out your butt. Lay your damn egg!”
“What!” Paul screamed.
I could relate; I too felt like screaming.
It was close, that race to the finish. Helena left me behind the screen just as I dropped my jeans to the floor. There was a wet spot on my underwear, my dick straining through the fabric. I almost chose to let myself finish, but Paul was still making noises like I was, and I made the split-second decision that we weren’t that kind of friends.
I did the only thing I could.
For lack of a better phrase (oh, how crass I could be!), I laid the egg.
I pulled on the strap as hard as I could, and the vibrations ceased almost immediately.
“Nooo,” Paul was moaning. “Oh god, I heard that. Why? Whyyyy?”
I gasped in relief as I dropped the egg onto the floor. I still felt like I was buzzing, even though the egg was gone, and I bit into my lip to try to distract myself.
The egg vibrated along the floor, rattling against one of the legs of the desk before it died a welcome death.
Silence filled the trailer.
I waited as I struggled to breathe, hoping they would just leave and we would never speak about this again.
They didn’t.
“So,” I finally said as my dick started to wilt. “What are the chances that no one asks any questions and we go back and try to enjoy our night?”
“Slim to none,” Helena said in that tone of voice that told me I was adorable for even trying.
“Yeah,” I mumbled. “I figured.”
“The sooner you come out here, the sooner we can deal with this.”
“I’d rather not, if it’s all the same to you.”
“I’m with Corey,” Paul said, sounding traumatized. “I don’t want to deal with any of this.”
“Pull up your pants, baby doll, and get out here.”
I sighed as I did just that. I fastened my jeans and walked out around the screen, refusing to look at them.
“Speak,” Helena demanded.
I threw up my hands. “It’s your fault! You bought it for me!”
“I did,” Helena agreed. “But I thought you were going to use it in private.”