“That’s hot.”
“Is it?” My voice was thin. She raised her eyebrows.
“What, is it not?”
“I mean, I guess yeah…”
She kicked my foot playfully. “Your turn.”
My brain was fuzzy. I was glad I took a shot, because now I could blame it for that. “What toys do you have?”
She grinned. “That I own in general, or with me?”
“You—have some with you?”
She put her hands up. “Never leave home without the essentials! I couldn’t packallof them for a trip, but I brought my favorites.”
Favorites, plural. She had enough toys that she had multiple favorites. That was hot. “So what are they?”
“A wand vibrator and a dildo. You know, the classics.”
Stella getting herself off with a wand vibrator was going to break my brain. “The… the classics, yeah. Any standouts from the rest of your, uh, collection?”
She smiled wider. “I have a glass dildo.”
“Oh, god. I’d worry about it breaking.”
“It’s like, solid glass, not like sheet glass,” she laughed. “My pussy’s not that strong. Even if somehow it broke, it wouldn’t shatter, it would have a clean break like any other material. It’s fun like… temperature play, because it feels cold to the touch.”
“Huh… I don’t feel like I’d want something cold inside me.”
“It’s weird at first, but it’s fun. Especially if you have something hot to balance it.”
“Like a mouth.” I didn’t mean to say that out loud. I blushed furiously, and she bit her lip, a look passing over her features.
“Oh, god. If I had it inside me while someone was going down on me, I think I’d explode. That’s hot.”
Okay, I guess I liked glass. She had a volunteer right here who could help, if she was curious. “Well, uh, happy to inspire you.”
“Okay, my turn,” she said, her voice sing-song. “I’m curious what your sex drive is like. How many times have you masturbated since I’ve known you?”
“Um.” Oh, god. It was only once, but I didn’t want totalkabout that time. And if I took a shot, she’d assume I was rubbing one out every fifteen minutes. I scratched my head, looking up at the ceiling. “I, uh… one time…”
“Oh, yeah? When was it?”
“Nope. Gonna have to use another question for that.” And I’d pray to god she wouldn’t. She pouted.
“C’mon, I give you so many freebies.”
“Then that’s on you.”
She laughed. “Okay, okay. Your turn.”
“How many times haveyou?”
She grinned, leaning in towards me, a challenging look in her eyes. “How many times have I what?”
“You—you know.” Oh, god. It was bad form if I was getting more embarrassed than her at being the one asking.