While going through some boxes in my office this past week, I came across a small handheld back massager that plugs into a computer’s USB port. I had received it as a gift from a client the previous Christmas and had forgotten about it. I plugged the massager in, flipped a switch, and felt it come to life in my hand. Satisfied that it worked, I put it aside.

That afternoon, I found Jill busy doing some work on her laptop. “I’ve got something for you,” I said, and I plugged the massager into the USB port on the side. After a moment, she looked up from her work, her eyes widening with interest. I held out my hand, revealing the massager, and placed it on the desk beside Jill’s laptop.

“What is that?” she asked. I turned it on, and it began to vibrate noisily against the desk.

“It’s a back massager.” I leaned close to her and placed it against her breasts, then turn it off and set it down on the desk. “I’m never going to use it,” I told her. “You can have it, if you want.” She thanked me, and resumed her work. Thinking nothing of it, I went into the backyard to mow the lawn.

I walked back inside a half hour later. The house was quiet, just as I expected it to be. I found Jill in the living room, lying on the sofa. Her pants were bunched up around her right ankle, her bare left leg up over the back of the couch. She massaged her thighs, her eyes dreamily half-closed. Jill’s chest rose slowly and fell again as she recovered from an orgasm that I was sad to have missed.

Her laptop sat on the coffee table, the new massager hanging from the table by its power cord. On the screen, a pretty brunette wearing a collar and nothing else rode one guy while stroking another. Jill stared at the screen for a moment before turning to face me. “Your turn.”

Even though I missed the show, I was terribly excited. We ran to our bedroom. No foreplay was needed; I was ready to go and my performance was fueled by the thoughts of Jill exploring her body while I mowed the lawn. After my climax, I suggested we go back out to the living room. I was hoping that Jill would want to play again, with an audience this time.

-Jack