Never look a gift horse in the mouth.
Don’t question your good fortune, in other words—just roll with it. That’s what Luc had always believed, and he’d always thought it was a good principle to live by.
Now, though, with the benefit of 20/20 hindsight, he would amend that old saying to the following new aphorism entirely of his own personal invention:
Never ever stick a gift dildo up your ass.
Why yes, why do you ask? Luc had been there and done precisely that. Been there, done that, and boy oh boy did Luc regret it.
At first, when he’d opened the handsome box with the big red bow left lying on his doorstep and discovered the extra-large—a.k.a. just Luc’s size—dildo nestled in tissue paper inside, he’d just assumed somebody was playing a bawdy practical joke on him. Either that, or it was an early birthday present. But either way, far be it for a humble, single man like Luc to look a gift horse in the mouth, right? So, after giving the dildo a good washing—hygiene first!—he’d taken it to bed with him that very evening to try it out.
Luc had never seen a dildo quite like it before. The color was a rather alarming, uniform shade of hot pink, but the materials used in its manufacture were a complete mystery. It was too flexible to be glass or hard plastic, and it was too silky soft and spongy to be silicone. Maybe that should’ve been a warning sign, but it was not, alas, a sign Luc took any heed to while he still had the chance.
By the time he had himself and the dildo all lubed up, he was already hard and leaking with anticipation. Luc got on his hands and knees and took aim. When he began to feed the dildo into his hole, good God, he had to tug on his balls to stop himself from coming right then and there. It really was just Luc’s size. A perfect fit. And oh! It felt heavenly. It raked deliciously against his prostate gland as it went in, in, in—
And it kept right on going in. Except, Luc wasn’t the one inserting it anymore—
But before his head could wrap itself fully around the mystery of the self-inserting dildo, the self-inserting dildo blew up like a thick, wet balloon and became a self-thrusting dildo. A fast, powerful, pistoning one. Luc may have screamed, though from pain or pleasure or both, he wasn’t sure. In any case, forget “perfect fit”—Luc was being filled near to bursting. He arched and spilled himself and collapsed facedown onto the bed, but the dildo didn’t stop thrusting. If anything, it got even bigger, and thrust even faster, and went even deeper—
Luc passed out and didn’t wake till morning.
When morning arrived, Luc’s hole was sloppy, sore, and gaping, and the dildo was nowhere to be found. For a panicked second, he actually worried that maybe it’d gotten lost inside of him…
…and then he chanced to look down at himself. His cock was a rather alarming, uniform shade of hot pink.
“Hi,” said the parasite within him.
Yeah, so. A week has already passed, and the parasite still hasn’t explained why him?!?! And for what purpose?!?! (Surely the hot pink cock is meant for more than just decoration.) But the experience has definitely changed the words Luc would choose to live by.
It’s just too bad that choice isn’t his to make anymore.