I never thought I’d be the one to suggest something like this.
But I suppose that’s the beauty of marriage — the freedom to grow, to trust, to ask for what you want.
It started with a shared glance while browsing DildosOnly.com, both of us intrigued, a little shy, maybe even blushing. But then I saw it — sleek, curved just right, and made for mutual pleasure: the Double-Headed Strap-On Vibrator. One end to fill me, the other for him. Two powerful motors, two rhythms, one incredible connection.
I showed it to Jason with a playful grin.
“What if…” I whispered.
He didn’t answer right away. But his eyes lingered, lips parted. Curious. Nervous. Excited.
The night it arrived, I took extra care. Candlelight. Fresh sheets. A glass of red on each nightstand. I wore my favorite silk robe, the one he loves to slowly untie. Jason came into the room already anticipating something. His eyes widened when he saw the toy laid gently on the bed like a secret.
“You serious?” he asked.
I stepped close and cupped his face. “Only if you are.”
He paused, then nodded, slowly. “I trust you.”
My heart ached in the best way. That was all I needed.
I helped him undress first, taking my time, savoring his skin under my fingers. He trembled when I told him to lie on his stomach, then changed my mind and had him kneel instead — more vulnerable, more open. I could feel his nervousness, but also his need. It matched mine.
I slipped off my robe and fastened the harness, the silicone bulb sliding inside me easily — snug, thrilling. The toy felt like an extension of me, humming to life the second I clicked the remote. Gentle pulses caressed my walls while the second shaft throbbed in time.
“Ready?” I asked, voice low.
Jason looked back at me. “Yeah.”
I took my time, tracing circles on his lower back, whispering praise, teasing him with gentle touches. And when I pressed the toy to him, he moaned — not from pain, but from shock. I moved slowly, giving him time, syncing our bodies to a shared rhythm.
And then — we were in.
Me, inside him.
Him, surrounding me.
It was unlike anything I had ever felt. The fullness, the control, the power — and the connection. Every time I moved, the bulb inside me shifted, pressing against my G-spot, making me gasp. Every thrust sent pulses through both our bodies.
His hands gripped the sheets. Mine gripped his hips.
I whispered to him. Encouraged him. Loved him through every second.
“Does it feel good?” I breathed.
“Yes. God, yes.”
And for the first time, I understood how giving could be just as pleasurable as receiving. I felt every movement, every squeeze, every moan — and it only pushed me higher.
The vibrator built a slow fire inside me, and I could tell Jason was close too, his body trembling beneath me.
“Together,” I whispered.
He reached back, lacing his fingers with mine.
We came like that — connected, trembling, overwhelmed. It wasn’t just about the orgasm. It was the surrender. The mutual trust. The joy of giving and taking.
When we collapsed into bed afterward, the Double-Headed Strap-On Vibrator lay beside us, humming low, like it knew what it had just done.
Jason turned toward me, eyes soft.
“That was… everything.”
I smiled and kissed his forehead. “We’ve only just started.”
And we had. That night opened a door — one we never knew we were brave enough to walk through. But now that we had, we weren’t going back.
Only forward. Together.
