I was always a huge fan of Mike*, so when I found out he was performing stand-up at a sex shop in my LA neighborhood, I had to go. I boldly messaged him earlier in the day on Facebook Messenger—sorry, it was 2012—and told him I was coming.
Heyyy, are you still performing tonight? Tbh, you’re my favorite comedian and I’d love to come by and see you!
Brazen as I may have been in my approach, I was shocked when he actually responded.
Oh, thank you so much. That’s awesome! Yes, I’m on the show tonight. Say hi to me after :)
After several hours of thoroughly overanalyzing that smiley face, I headed to the show all delusional fangirl butterflies. Just last night, I had been watching Mike’s appearance on The Tonight Show on YouTube, and mere hours later, he’d be pressing me up against my BMW in a parking lot with his hands down my pants and his tongue down my throat. But I’m getting ahead of myself.
While I’m not usually one to sweat strolling into a sex store, this time I was nervous. Decked out in my favorite tweed leather jacket, dark wash skinny jeans (again, you’ll have to excuse the 2012), and my platform Jeffrey Campbell Lolita boots that were so in at the time, I mentally prepared myself to stay cool, nonchalant, and not fawn over him too much.
When it was finally his turn to take the stage, he approached the mic and started eyeing up the crowd until his gaze landed square on me. Call me cocky, but I could tell by a little glimmer in his eye that he recognized me. Tall and sexy, Mike was cute, funny, and nerdy in all the right ways. On stage, he seemed to command the crowd with an understated yet masterful current of control, one that made me wonder what kind of power he could wield in bed.
I giggled at his joke, maybe a little too hard, and he called out my laugh, which only made me laugh harder. I don’t know if it was just me or the fact that we were in a literal sex shop, but I swear the sexual energy in the room was ravenous that night.
As the rest of the audience headed out at the end of the show, I got up and walked to the back of the shop where Mike was chatting with another comic. Playing it as cool as I could, I pretended to casually browse the vibrators like I’d just happened to remember I could use a new dildo.
“What kind of toy are you looking for?” Mike asked, taking my bait as he approached me from behind.
I looked at him and smiled. “You.” I watched in suspense as the word landed, almost disarming him with how direct I was.
“Hi, I’m Mike,” he said.
“I know. I’m Serena.” We shook hands in that first-touch kind of way where you swear you can feel a shot of electricity simmering through your veins.
He looked back at the vibrators. “You getting one of these?”
“I’m thinking about it,” I replied. “But I’d need a volunteer to break it in with. If only I knew someone.”
“You know, I might know a guy.” This man didn’t miss a beat. “The one you came here to see tonight would probably be down to lend a hand.”
I laughed. “Oh, really? That would be so nice of him.”
I knew he was funny, but I was pleasantly surprised at how well our witty banter bounced off of each other.
“I’ll be right back,” I said, sliding the toy off the rack. I waltzed over to the cash register, paid for it, and let Mike walk me out to the parking lot.
“This is me,” I said, pointing to my silver BMW sedan.
Mike looked me up and down and lightly grabbed my hips. “Can I kiss you?”
I smiled. “Obviously.”
He pushed me up against my car, slid his hand gently up my bare neck and pulled my lips onto his. His perfect lips wrapped around mine intensely and his glasses fogged up between kisses. I ran my fingers through his hair as he caressed my ass through my jeans. I could feel his heart beating through his chest as he pressed himself against me.
“Come over. I don’t live far from here,” I breathed between his lips, barely breaking our kiss. He sighed in disappointment.
“I can’t, I have another show,” he sighed. “…But I could come over after.”
Done.
In fact, it was perfect. The extra two hours bought me some time to freak out and perform the fine feminine art of speed-cleaning your apartment the way you only do when you’re expecting to get dicked down in it. Would he actually come over? I didn’t know, but I was sure as hell going to clean my room like he was.
Just as I was trying to convince myself that even if he ghosted, making out with your favorite comedian in the parking lot is still pretty cool, my doorbell rang. There he was, this man I’d seen on stage and screen, standing in my apartment. I hurriedly asked him how his other show was and he politely declined a drink as we wasted zero time heading upstairs to my bedroom.
He perused my array of assorted sex toys, including the one we’d picked out at after his show.
“What do you say we break this bad boy in?” he said, lifting up my new vibrator with a built-in clitoral sucker. Abso-fucking-lutely.
I slowly stripped my clothes off for him, practically buzzing with disbelief that I was about to hook up with my favorite comedian in my bed. Don’t even try to tell me that manifestation isn’t real!
Tracy's Dog Tracy's Dog OG Pro 2
“Lie back,” Mike said, picking up our new toy and slipping the vibrating end into my already wet pussy.
“Good girl,” he said, as he adjusted the sucking apparatus perfectly onto my clit. And with one click of the button, I was catapulted into another stratosphere. My body convulsed in pleasure as he slipped my new dildo in and out of my pussy. He knelt down on the floor as I writhed on the bed, appreciating every sound and sight of my rollercoaster of orgasms and locking eyes as I squirted all over the toy and his hands.
After I came, it was his turn to lie down on the bed. I gently unzipped his pants, breathing heavily in anticipation of seeing his dick for the first time. I slid his pants off his ankles and pulled down his boxers to reveal—I shit you not—one of the biggest cocks I’d ever seen. Not only was it long and thick, but rock hard. I couldn’t wait to have it in my mouth—so I didn’t. I sucked in pure delight, taking in every inch.
“You’re so good at that,” he huffed in between inhales, so turned on he could barely get the words out.
I looked up from his shaft and smiled with my eyes, his colossal cock filling up my entire mouth and tasting so fucking sweet at the back of my throat.
“Spit on my dick,” he instructed. God, did I love being told what to do.
I spit on his cock and ran my tongue from the bottom of his shaft to the tip of his penis. He moaned in delight, his cock pulsating in my grip as he came into my hand with a satisfied grunt.
“Holy shit,” he breathed, collapsing back onto my bed in that post-orgasmic fugue state it’s never not fun to knock a man into.
We tousled around in bed for a while, taking turns getting each other off in an impressive display of stamina and horniness. Between moments of action, we laid intertwined in my sheets as I played with his chest hair, my bare body pressed up against his as he gently caressed my arms and thighs. I could not believe that less than 24 hours ago, this man didn’t know my name, and now here he was petting me, laughing at my jokes, tangled in my bedsheets.
Now, I know what you’re thinking: Girl, do not get attached to this man. But, shockingly enough, this is not the tale of a one-night stand! It was actually the beginning of a fun summer fling for the two of us, featuring many, many more orgasms. Moral of the story? Always go see your favorite performer if they’re in your city. They might just end up being a fan of you, too.
*Name has been changed.
