Tele-cherry broken

Across the world various nerds are racing to design, assemble then test the fuck out of cybersex suits. Suits with receptors and tingling things that can be triggered remotely allowing lovers separated at a distance still erotically interact by literally pressing their buttons (on their control device). I'm presuming when this becomes feasible that it shall be called tele-sex or something similar.

I get a lift to the occasional nerd night from C---. I'm not too out of the way for it to be an imposition and we get to have a three minute chat about stuff on the way to and from. Genteel, erudite convos about world events, technology, and tits and shit. Anyhoo C--- pings me a text as he leaves his house and I pack my bag of nerd stuff'n'snacks and head on out to wait for him.

On the last such occasion I was sitting at the desktop computer on the Dr Evil chair when the leaving now text arrived. For some reason the chair was set to a low height and I was perched on the edge, leaning forward, my loaner iPhone in the pocket of my over-sized jumper. My jumper was so large and billowy it allowed the pocket and phone to slide over to the inner side of my leg, the phone slung against my junk and thigh. Thus it was the position of my body and the choice of attire colluded to have it so the iPhone fully buzzed the end of my nob when the text rolled on in.

So naturally I spent the time waiting for C--- by the rear of my car port texting him back to tell him the story of how he just broke my tele-cherry.

Bring on the sexy robots!

UPDATE: The alternate post title was 'Why do weird things keep happening to my nob?' This I think would also make a dandy title for the autobiography by The Amazing Mister Lifto from the Jim Rose Circus. Come on Amazing Mister Lifto, get cracking on that...

UPDATE2: The one time I tried phone sex my cat threw up. It ended the session.