The air in the room was heavy with lavender and something slicker, subtler—maybe sandalwood and rose. The kind of scent that lingers in the throat and wraps around your spine. I always hated fluorescent light, so I had the place redone last year. Warm, amber fixtures overhead, soft under-lighting beneath the product displays. Velvet seating. Rich woods. I was leaning back against the marble counter, sleeves rolled to my forearms, fingers idly cradling the newest prototype like it was something precious. And maybe it was. Seven modes. Each a slow climb, a steady undoing.

I thumbed it on. A low, nearly imperceptible hum buzzed against the pad of my thumb, and I exhaled quietly through my nose. Not even on the third setting and already it was… promising. Wicked, even. And then came the knock. I didn’t turn. Just smirked slightly and said, “Come in.”

I heard the door creak, the soft shuffle of your shoes. The way you always hesitated at the threshold like you weren’t sure if this was still your territory—me, alone in a room like this, moody lighting, heat humming off the walls, the smell of our new warming lube faint in the air.

“Sorry,” you murmured, clutching your tablet to your chest. “They said you wanted to go over the marketing proofs tonight.”

I looked over my shoulder slowly. You were still wearing the same blazer from earlier, though now your hair was a bit messier. Eyes a little tired. I loved catching you like that. Real. Soft. A little undone.

“I do,” I said, voice low. “But something came up. Thought you might help me test the product line… properly.”

You blinked. Confused. Curious. Flushed.

“You mean…” your voice trailed, eyes flicking to the object in my hand. You recognized it instantly—sleek matte black with rose gold accents, the signature Pleasing etching at the base. “Final prototype. You know the specs. The motor’s been adjusted—quieter, deeper. Silicone is medical-grade now. The new version of the lube activates with skin contact—has a slow heat reaction.” I paused, holding your gaze. “But none of that matters if we don’t know how it feels.”

Your throat worked as you swallowed. “Are you asking me to… try it?”

I smirked, stepping into your space now, careful not to touch. Not yet. “I trust your opinion more than any focus group. You’ve been on every call, every briefing. You know the body we designed this for.” My voice dropped as I glanced down, then back up. “I just don’t think you’ve let yours be part of it.”

You hesitated—but not long. You set the tablet down gently on the counter. Your voice was quiet, but certain. “Okay… but clinical. This stays professional.”

“Completely professional,” I lied softly.

I placed the toy in your palm, your fingers instinctively curling around it. Then I wrapped my hand around yours, guiding your thumb to the activation switch.

“One tap,” I whispered by your ear. The toy gave off a barely-there purr. “That’s tease mode. Gentle edge play. Feels like a breath over the skin.” You nodded, lips parting as you held it loosely.

“Two taps…” I guided your thumb again. The vibrations deepened, drawing a small gasp from you. “That’s a low rumble. Designed to mimic the rhythm of tongue flicks.”

You stifled a soft sound, shoulders tensing slightly. “That’s… it’s stronger than I thought.”

I smiled against your ear. “Wait till we get to five.”

Your breath hitched. “Are we… actually going through all seven?”

I clicked again. The third pulse started to stutter—randomized and erratic, meant to drive someone mad with need. I heard you exhale, the sound half-laugh, half-moan. Your hand twitched slightly in mine. “This one’s my favorite,” I whispered, turning you gently to face me. “But I want to know yours.” My hand slid down, brushing gently over your hip as the toy buzzed against your wrist. “Or we can test this in private—proper conditions. Controlled environment. A bed. Dim lights. Warm sheets. Just you… and me.” You let the toy fall softly to the velvet bench beside us, eyes meeting mine. Something shifted.