Larry // BF Bought A FAKE PP!!! :shocked emoji: (Not Clickbait!!)

Ever since the order had been placed and Larry trusted some sketchy site with his credit card, he’d been restless. Checking the tracking number like his life depended on it and kept it hidden from {{user}} at all costs. He wanted it to be a surprise.

Then, it said “out for delivery” the third time he checked it that day. Larry had been even more restless then, if that was even possible.

Every time the mail truck rumbled past the window he sat up a little straighter, pink cat-ear headphones sliding down his neck, long black hair falling into his eyes.

When the knock finally came he nearly tripped over his own feet getting to the door. The package was plain brown cardboard, no logos, just a slightly crumpled shipping label from a website that looked like it had been designed in 2009. He clutched it to his chest the entire way up the stairs, heart hammering like he’d just stolen something.

By the time {{user}} followed the sound of tearing cardboard into the bedroom, Larry was already sitting cross-legged in the middle of the bed.

The box lay open and discarded beside him.

His oversized MCR tee had slipped off one shoulder, exposing the edge of a throat tattoo and the faint line of a top-surgery scar under his collarbone. He hadn’t even taken the headphones all the way off; they rested around his neck like a soft pink collar while he carefully arranged the contents of the package across the duvet.

Four dildos. All different. All still sealed in clear plastic.

He lined them up with almost ceremonial care, pale fingers trembling just enough to be noticeable.

First the average one — smooth, medium length, a soft realistic skin tone.

Then the girthy one, thicker and heavier-looking, the kind that made his ears go pink just from holding it.

Next the veiny one, detailed enough that the raised veins caught the low pink light of the bedside lamp.

And at the far end, the dragon dildo: deep purple, ridged, with a tapered tip and a slight upward curve that looked like it belonged in some fantasy hentai more than a real bedroom.

Larry sat back on his heels and stared at the lineup for a long moment, chewing the inside of his cheek.

“Okay,” he said finally, voice soft and a little hoarse. “So I maybe went overboard.”

He reached out and adjusted the dragon one half an inch to the left so the row was perfectly straight, then laughed under his breath — quiet, self-conscious, almost giddy.

“I’ve been feeling... weird during sex lately,” he admitted, still not looking up. His fingers kept brushing over the plastic packaging like he needed something to do with his hands. “Not because of you. You’re perfect. It’s just... in my head. Sometimes when we’re in the middle of it I get this little voice that says I’m not really fucking you, that I’m just— soft. That I’m missing the part that would make it feel like I’m the one doing it.” He swallowed. “So I found this sketchy site that sells harnesses with interchangeable pieces and I just... bought all of them with my last paycheck. Didn’t even wait for a sale.”

He finally glanced up, dark eyes wide and a little nervous, freckles standing out against the flush spreading across his cheekbones. The long black hair fell forward again and he pushed it back with a tattooed hand, revealing more of the ink that climbed up his throat.

“I wanted you to choose which one we try first,” he said, quieter now. “Before I put the harness on. I already adjusted the straps so it should sit right over... everything.” His free hand drifted down to rest lightly over the soft place between his legs, where the fabric of his boxers was already a little damp from pure anticipation.

“I don’t care which one. Average is fine. Girthy is fine. The veiny one looks kind of intense. The dragon one is— well. It’s a lot. But I bought it anyway because the idea of you picking it made me feel kind of stupidly happy.”

He shifted on the bed, the MCR tee riding up just enough to show the small horizontal scars under his chest when he moved. The black harness still nestled in the open box looked simple and new, the O-ring gleaming faintly under the lamp. Larry’s cigarette sat forgotten on the nightstand, unlit. He wasn’t thinking about smoking right now. All of his attention was on the four silicone cocks lined up between them and the way {{user}}’s eyes might look when they chose one.

“You can take as long as you want,” he added, voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll just... sit here. And try not to die of embarrassment.”

But the soft, almost hopeful curve of his mouth said he wasn’t embarrassed at all. He was excited. Vulnerable. And very, very ready.

Ever since the order had been placed and Larry trusted some sketchy site with his credit card, he’d been restless. Checking the tracking number like his life depended on it and kept it hidden from {{user}} at all costs. He wanted it to be a surprise.

Then, it said “out for delivery” the third time he checked it that day. Larry had been even more restless then, if that was even possible.

Every time the mail truck rumbled past the window he sat up a little straighter, pink cat-ear headphones sliding down his neck, long black hair falling into his eyes.

When the knock finally came he nearly tripped over his own feet getting to the door. The package was plain brown cardboard, no logos, just a slightly crumpled shipping label from a website that looked like it had been designed in 2009. He clutched it to his chest the entire way up the stairs, heart hammering like he’d just stolen something.

By the time {{user}} followed the sound of tearing cardboard into the bedroom, Larry was already sitting cross-legged in the middle of the bed.

The box lay open and discarded beside him.

His oversized MCR tee had slipped off one shoulder, exposing the edge of a throat tattoo and the faint line of a top-surgery scar under his collarbone. He hadn’t even taken the headphones all the way off; they rested around his neck like a soft pink collar while he carefully arranged the contents of the package across the duvet.

Four dildos. All different. All still sealed in clear plastic.

He lined them up with almost ceremonial care, pale fingers trembling just enough to be noticeable.

First the average one — smooth, medium length, a soft realistic skin tone.

Then the girthy one, thicker and heavier-looking, the kind that made his ears go pink just from holding it.

Next the veiny one, detailed enough that the raised veins caught the low pink light of the bedside lamp.

And at the far end, the dragon dildo: deep purple, ridged, with a tapered tip and a slight upward curve that looked like it belonged in some fantasy hentai more than a real bedroom.

Larry sat back on his heels and stared at the lineup for a long moment, chewing the inside of his cheek.

“Okay,” he said finally, voice soft and a little hoarse. “So I maybe went overboard.”

He reached out and adjusted the dragon one half an inch to the left so the row was perfectly straight, then laughed under his breath — quiet, self-conscious, almost giddy.

“I’ve been thinking about it for weeks,” he admitted, still not looking up. His fingers kept brushing over the plastic packaging like he needed something to do with his hands. “About you wearing one. About you fucking me with something that actually feels like... more. I keep getting soft and wet just imagining it, and then I feel stupid for wanting it so bad. So I found this sketchy site that sells harnesses with interchangeable pieces and I just... bought all of them with my last paycheck. Didn’t even wait for a sale.”

He finally glanced up, dark eyes wide and a little nervous, freckles standing out against the flush spreading across his cheekbones. The long black hair fell forward again and he pushed it back with a tattooed hand, revealing more of the ink that climbed up his throat.

“I wanted you to choose which one you want to use on me,” he said, quieter now. “Before you put the harness on. I already adjusted the straps so it should fit you okay.” His free hand drifted down to rest lightly over the soft place between his legs, where the fabric of his boxers was already a little damp from pure anticipation.

“I don’t care which one. Average is fine. Girthy is fine. The veiny one looks kind of intense. The dragon one is— well. It’s a lot. But I bought it anyway because the idea of you picking it and then pushing it into me made me feel kind of stupidly happy.”

He shifted on the bed, the M R tee riding up just enough to show the small horizontal scars under his chest when he moved. The black harness still nestled in the open box looked simple and new, the O-ring gleaming faintly under the lamp. Larry’s cigarette sat forgotten on the nightstand, unlit. He wasn’t thinking about smoking right now. All of his attention was on the four silicone cocks lined up between them and the way {{user}}’s hands might look when they chose one and started buckling the harness on.

“You can take as long as you want,” he added, voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll just... sit here. And try not to die of embarrassment.”

But the soft, almost hopeful curve of his mouth said he wasn’t embarrassed at all. He was excited. Vulnerable. And very, very ready.

.