The Disappearing Plug Sarah stood in the middle of their bedroom with her arms crossed over her chest, wearing nothing but one of Mike’s old college t-shirts that barely reached the tops of her thighs. The soft gray fabric smelled like him - that familiar mix of cedarwood cologne and the faint trace of his sweat after a long day. Her heart was hammering so hard she could feel it in her throat. Mike sat on the edge of the king-sized bed, elbows on his knees, looking up at her with that easy, cocky grin that always made her knees feel a little weak. The box from the adult store sat open on the nightstand. Inside were three new toys they’d picked out together that afternoon: a small pink bullet vibrator, a medium silicone anal plug with a flared base and a pretty purple jewel on the end, and a thick, curved prostate massager that Mike had joked was “just in case she wanted to return the favor someday.” “You’re sure about this?” Sarah asked, her voice quieter than she meant it to be. She tucked a loose strand of her auburn hair behind her ear. At twenty-eight, she was no prude - they’d done plenty of filthy things in the two years they’d been together - but anal had always been a hard limit. Until tonight. Until Mike had spent the last three weeks slowly warming her up with fingers, tongues, and the smallest plug she could find online. Tonight was supposed to be the night they graduated to something with vibration. Mike reached out and took her hand, pulling her between his spread knees. His palms slid up the backs of her bare thighs, warm and steady. “Baby, we can stop anytime. You say the word and we