Theory,12

12.
Ash’s cock had just arrived in the mail.

It had been difficult for them to receive the package from the postman with a straight face, but they had nearly accomplished it, betrayed only by a crimson blush washing over their face like wine in the last moments of the exchange as she closed the door, heart beating, breathing heavily.

It had taken them a long time to finally hold the package in their hands, or at least it had seemed like a long time to them. Two weeks seemed interminably long when punctuated by the periods of dysphoria that Ash experienced at so many distinct points – putting on clothes in the morning, catching a glimpse of their naked body in the bathroom mirror, or feeling a pulse of sexuality run through their clit at a sight of a hot girl and knowing that they couldn’t fuck them properly, penetratively, like they wanted to.

But now it was here. Ash almost didn’t want to open the box with their toy inside. They had always considered the moment before opening a present to be the best, and now here was that moment, swiftly passing them by.