ALL CHARACTERS ARE OVER THE AGE OF 18.
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As I browed the display racks filled with silicone vaginas, prostate stimulators and cock rings, I couldn't shake my feelings of shame and embarrassment.
But it had been over a year since my divorce, longer still since the last time I'd gotten laid, and I was getting pretty bored with standard masturbation.
This Adult Store was classier than others I'd visited in the past; clean, well lit, and located in a nicer part of the city than most. The clientele was certainly better; a smattering of well dressed businessmen and women as opposed to the bald, overweight, sweaty looking slobs who usually frequented these establishments.
Still, I felt seedy, and wasn't sure if I'd manage to find the guts to purchase whatever perverted sex toy I wound up choosing, if I could ever even bring myself to pick one.
The idea of fucking a rubber pussy was humiliating, but I was desperate to feel something besides my own hand.
"Just pick something," I chided myself, "pick something, pay for it and get the fuck out of here. Who gives a fuck what these people think? You'll never see any of them again anyway."
Finally, I settled on a rather pricey but realistic looking pussy and ass combo supposedly modeled directly from the anatomy of a porn star who's name I recognized and found attractive.
I was wondering to myself how much the mold actually mattered, because ultimately I'd still just be fucking a piece of lubed up silicone, when I plowed right into her.
I'd been looking down, trying to hide my face as I approached the counter, already fishing my wallet out of my back pocket so I could cut down how long I had to spend checking out, and never saw her.
Both of us let out a yelp at the collision, and the packages we'd each been holding fell to the floor with a clatter.
I knew it was a woman more by the feel of her as we'd collided than by sight, and I actively avoided looking at her as I bent down to scoop up both our items.
Along with my fake plastic pussy, I found myself picking up a package containing a long, very realistic looking silicone penis, complete with testicles. The label proclaimed in large, bold letters, "LIFELIKE FEEL! VIBRATES! USB RECHARGEABLE! PROVIDES HOURS OF PLEASURE!"
I stood up, trying to brace myself for the humiliation of having to apologize while holding the toy I was planning on masturbating with later.
"I'm so..." My eyes met hers as I finished standing. "...sorry."
She was stunning. Probably a little younger than I; late thirties, early forties, but certainly no older than that.
Her straight, fine, chestnut brown hair framed the almost perfect oval of her face with a casual, flowing style, a few random strands hanging loosely over her shapely, rounded cheekbones. If she'd had to color her hair, it didn't show.
Her sloping nose tapered to a fine point above her thin yet full pink lips.
Her make-up was effective enough to highlight her features without disguising her maturity.
But it was her dark brown eyes that captured me. In them, I saw the same fear, embarrassment and humiliation probably reflected in my own eyes, along with a hint of something else I couldn't quite place.
"It was my fault," she was saying in a sweet yet slightly shaky voice.
"No, my fault, I wasn't watching where I was going," I countered, trying to be chivalrous while at the same time wanting to simply run and hide.
Instead, I stood frozen, staring at her eyes. Her deep, dark eyes.
She was speaking. I didn't hear her. "I'm sorry, what?" I said, snapping out of my trance.
"Um, can I have my...package?" She was struggling to be nonchalant about it, but the flush of her face told a different story.
"Oh, right. Sorry," I said, handing her the phallic sex toy.
We stood silently staring at each other until she finally broke into a foolish grin. "I've probably been in a more embarrassing situation than this before," she chuckled nervously, "but I certainly can't remember when."
I found myself laughing as well. "Hey, look, we're both adults. We all have needs. We're supposed to be beyond being ashamed of this by now, aren't we?" I tried to say it with enough casualness that I might actually convince her that I believed my own words.
Her laugh became lighter, more genuine. "Yeah, I suppose you're right."
Her twinkling eyes fixed on me for a moment, then glanced at the box in my hand featuring the naked porn star with legs agape, alongside the image of the toy replica of her most intimate area, and gave me a wry smile. "Well, enjoy your evening, I suppose."
"You too," I called after her stupidly as she headed towards the counter to pay for her new dildo.
"Fucking idiot!" I cursed myself under my breath, then turned back to the racks.
I couldn't go pay for my toy now, not until I was sure she'd checked out and was gone.
I found myself staring at a shelf filled with BDSM items of all shapes and sizes, things I'd never be interested in using in a thousand years, for several long minutes.
I was just about to brave looking towards the register to see if she was gone when I felt a hand on my shoulder.
It was her.
Her face was passive, unreadable. But her eyes. Her eyes spoke volumes.
"Come with me." Without waiting for a reply, she reached out and took the box I was still holding from my hands, put it on a random shelf, then grabbed my hand and led me towards the back of the store.
Towards the video booth section.
As we brushed past the curtain and entered the shadowy hall, I finally found my voice. "What are you doing? Why are we..."
Her head whipped around and her eyes glared at me, not with anger so much as with a sharp intent that told me to just shut the fuck up.
So I did. As she continued to pull me down the hall, looking for an unoccupied booth, I noticed her free hand still clutching both her purse and the bag that must contain her newly purchased toy.