There is no way I could ever forget the date: it was on the day of my eighteenth birthday. I had spent almost every day during the past two years fighting with my folks, who never once missed an opportunity to remind me that "as long as you live in our home." But at long last, I was free. Adult, and free. At long last I was in a position to do whatever I wanted to, without any interference from them, and that is exactly what I did. On the previous night, I had locked myself in my room and I had stuffed two big suitcases with my things: some clothing, letters, keepsakes. The bare minimum. I bore no affection towards that house or any of its inhabitants. At that time we had only just moved to Verona, so I had no friends and no considerations which could have prevented my decision to leave everything and start a new life. I moved out early in the morning, and after a stop at an automatic teller machine to withdraw some money, I headed straight to the station. I stayed for some time in Milan with a friend of mine: a lot of people would call at his house, most of them North Europeans from the underground scene. One of them was a Dutch photographer, a woman named Katja, who at 25 was a firmly committed lesbian, with a beautiful face and a sex drive of almost nymphomaniac magnitude. I had never made love with a woman before, but it took her less than one evening to convert me. I was not in love with her, but she succeeded in getting me aroused from the first minute, and then to make me come in ways i had never suspected. Every time she touched me or she made me do something I just melted away, and when she went back to the Netherlands, I needed only one instant to make my mind I would accept her invitation to follow her.

The flight to Rotterdam was an incredible experience: as soon as we has gone through the metal detectors of the airport, Katja led me to the ladies' room, locked us in a booth and fitted me with one of those unbelievable sex toys she seemed to pack by the dozen in her large shoulder bag. This one was an object fashioned from soft pink rubber, molded in the shape of a heart.

A cylinder about 7" long and more than 1" thick protruded from its center, also molded in pink rubber, and studded with small bumps in soft rubber like the heart. Katja spent a brief moment making my juices flow, so as to be able to insert the whole device between my legs: she had backed me against the wall, and while she swirled her tongue to the inner depths of my throat, she blindly rummaged with the rubber heart, until she was satisfied it was in total contact with the skin of my cunt. These strange studs were massaging me like minute fingers. One of them was pressing itself exactly against my clitoris; still others had insinuated themselves in the fold between my bigger lips and my inner lips, and I had an overwhelming sensation of being licked everywhere by thousands of sharp tongues. However, Katja let go of me before I could reach a climax. She put my panties back on, and she managed to thread an electric wire, which I had not seen before and which protruded from the external face of the device, so that it ran under my clothes, going out of my panty hose and running inside my left sleeve, where it eventually was let out at the wrist. A small white box was hanging from its end, and my lover told me not to touch it. We brought some order to our clothes, and we went out together in the airport, like two good friends, holding each other's hand. In this manner, Katja was able to conceal the white box in her right hand, and I felt quite strange, with that device deep inside my cunt and with that wire which felt like a leash.

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