Jane And Her Box - Sex Stories

Jane And Her Box

... crank and if you so desire, she will return the favor. ;) Use responsibly.”

Alright, that’s a weird way to boost sales. I guess it’s solid for an adult themed toy. That last part kinda indicates that to be the case. And if it is what I think it is, I don’t think I’ve ever been so immensely insulted in my entire life. Not only are you just gonna make me think that you forgot about me and not only are you calling me old, but you’re just gonna make fun of me for being a virgin, too? These guys are the Grand Central Station of a good time, apparently. But you know what? What the hell? They already went through all this trouble. So fine, anonymous jokester. I’ll humor you. I sit on my bed before grabbing the crank and turning it.

“Round and round the cobbler's bench

The monkey chased the weasel,

The monkey thought 'twas all in fun”

I keep turning, trying to reach the climax of the song, but it’s not happening. Great. So not only am I being laughed at, but now I’m left dissatisfied. Cause why not give me a defective toy? This has Daniel’s dumbass name written all over it. I turn around to grab my phone and call him, but I can’t seem to find it. What the hell?

“Looking for this?” I hear a light British voice say as I see my phone dangling in my face.

Who. The fuck. Said that? I’m frozen in place. Who else is here? This is my house. I didn’t invite anyone over. I didn’t even hear anything before this. I eventually gather the balls to turn around to see a girl. ...

... She looks...strange. She’s wearing a very vibrant jester costume, complete with a red nose, a white shirt with rainbow stripes along with suspenders covering her b cup chest, pearly white gloves, colorful frilly thigh high stockings complemented with a black polka dot patterned skirt, a short french bob hairstyle with a half black and half red pattern, and two smiley faces painted on her cheeks.

I’m in pure shock. Who is this girl? Where did she come from? What’s with that costume? Why does she have my phone? What is going on?

“Hiya,” she says, sparatically waving at me, “I’m your Jane. Nice to meetcha.”

Uh...what?

“My...Jane?” is all I can manage to utter out,

“Well, yeah. You read the box, didn’t you? See? Right here.”

She picks up the box and presents it to me, pointing at the note.

“‘Your very own Jane-in-a-box’,” she quotes, “Says so right there. I’m officially yours. Yours to do anything you desire. Any kind of fun that you wanna have, I’m right here to do it with ya. Forever.”

I’m so lost right now. What is going on right now? I’m not dreaming. Everything’s too consistent. I don’t drink or anything, so that’s out of the question. So what the hell?

“Well, don’t just stand there like a tuna,” she says, confusing me even more before she nudges me, “Let’s have some fun. What are ya in the mood for? Gaming while I blow you? Cockwarming while watching the game? You wanna play with my ass, while I bark for you? You wanna be my daddy? Whatever your ...