Finally -at the second time of asking, the e-mail arrived this week, notifying me that I could pick up my Lady Ice Crystal Fleshlight from the ‘Rainforest’ locker nearby.  The facility is around the back of a local retail establishment not frequented by too many folk so things are quiet and discreet for anyone, irrespective of what they’re picking up.

Having pin-pointed exactly when I’d go and collect, I set straight off from work for the target destination with both excitement and anticipation.  On arrival, and with the car parked up alongside, I opened the e-mail app on my smartphone, called up the code, punched in it and ‘voila’ – the locker door popped open to reveal a rather sizeable box pushed just inside, the size surprising me a bit, knowing the nature of what was inside.

There was, to be frank, no stopping me from opening the boot, putting the box in and using a key, scoring my way in for a sneaky peak.  Inside was some scrunched up brown paper to pad the open space and a thinner, narrower box in which, with a snug fit, the Fleshlight had been inserted, along with a ‘how to use’ leaflet (with a pic of some scantily clad girls holding various models of the sex-toy) and a small sachet of lube.  “At last!” – I said to myself. “Here we go”.

Having taken that momentary glance, the box was folded back up again and the boot of the car was shut.  Problem number 1 was working out when I might get to use the Fleshlight for the first time.  The answer came fairly swiftly – with the wife at work early doors the following morning, I’d only need to wait until she was out of the house to slip out, open the boot, retrieve the parcel and retreat inside to execute my almost military-style plan of intended use.

I’d already purchased a small bottle of water-based lubricant (because that’s the ONLY stuff you should use with these things) from my trusty home and hardware store.  That early morning, being a quick reader, and having done my homework, I filled the bathroom sink with warm water, removed the inner masturbatory sleeve and immersed it in the water to warm it up.

Moments later, casing once more filled by the see-through sleeve, I opened the bottle of lube, smeared some on me and the opening and began the experience.  This was one I wanted to savour and sustain.  Unable to exhbit myself on-line due to web-cam issues previously blogged about, I reluctantly stood in front of a mirror to convince myself that I had my new sex toy in full use.

There was no temptation to come quickly – instead, I played with the end cap, one which, when tightened, closes a gap at the end, keeping air in, and creating more suction and grip.  Loosening and tightening in experimentation, I reasoned that it would not be good to have it too tight if I wanted to relish the experience fully and not be disappointed.

Eventually though, came the moment of peak, erupting in the sleeve so much that my load spilled out of the open end air holes, some of it cascading onto the carpet.  I had, moments earlier, wondered whether the casing was cracked before logic prevailed.

I quickly concluded that the tidy up would be protracted, warnings heeded about cleaning and drying.  I set about following the recommendations, running water through, but NOT using soap, but the clean up signalled the start of the many problems.

‘Allow to air-dry’ was the recommendation in the instructions. How on earth would I do that? Where would I do that?  Modelled on a ‘Flashlight’ torch, these items are deemed to be discreet but they are sizeable – mine being see-through, it would not sit easily in a tool box or shed cupboard, not would that environment be the best.

Searching all the nooks and crannies of the man cave that were more than able to swallow up my lingerie accessories etc, I eventually realised that there was to be no hiding place here.  The water residue around on the sleeve after that first sink immersion, was of a milky, almost powdery appearance and as it had shaken off, had quickly dried on the man cave carpet and anywhere else for that matter.

An internet search then began for tips on how to dry it quickly.  I still had the problem of storage, but it was a case of one step at a time.  What had I done here?   Contemplate logic that if the wife can have a vibrator, I can have a plastic pussy.  Why on earth don’t I just tell the missus I have one?  That’s a challenge for another day.  Right there and then, there was a need to get on with the mundane working day, but the clear up and assured hiding place was still way short of being at a conclusion.

One suggestion taken up was to use a hair-dryer on low heat setting and at a distance.  Figuring this as the quickest way to ensure a driest Fleshlight, I lay everything on the floor, switched the hair-dryer on and began getting ready for work as multi-tasking prevailed.

Recommendations of more expensive manufacturers restoratative powder, cleaning fluids and the cheaper option of supermarket/mail order corn-starch sprinkling were not on the agenda here.  I needed to ensure things were clean, dry and tidily hidden and quickly.

The only place I could think about was the loft – no-one – only me, ever goes up there, but I’d need the loft ladder each time.  However, this was the loft.  Either hot and humid or cold and damp –  not conducive to ensuring the driest or hygenic of results ready for next time.

I couldn’t worry about whether things were sufficiently dry.  I just had to find a point at which I was content, boxed things back up again and decided that the best place for my new toy ahead of contemplating telling the missus about my new toy (and all of the baggage that would likely follow) was in the boot of my car – more man cave space.

All in all, the clean up seemed to take an age – removal of evidence if you like – however, the milky watery powdery residue remarked upon was on the carpet, the desk top and, subsequently found to be on some paperwork in my office.   The carpet and desk top was cleaned with wipes and cloths and whilst the paperwork sat for a while, it was later thrown away, no questions asked, no papers seen – it was my man cave after all.

Owning and using a Fleshlight – in secret – was presenting a whole new set of problems and logistics – different to anything I’d experienced with crossdressing and hiding the stash.    Two problems remain – shall I tell the wife reasoning that, if she can have a vibrator, I can have a plastic pussy?   Secondly, having worked my way through all the fall out after that first, amazing use,  when can I get to use it again?

As it stands, retrospectively, I had ample opportunity this afternoon, but chose to do something less sexy instead.   Crossdressing problems?  No – owning and using a Fleshlight in secret presents a whole new set of problems.   But in a strange kind of way, they are nice problems to have!

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