Copyright DarknessThought 2022
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All characters in this work of fiction are 18 years or older, at the time any sexual activities take place. This is just a story, some random thoughts and imaginings, it is not meant to be real, and nor does it reflect any particular views or beliefs and practices of the writer.
Hopefully this will cover many different categories and chapters, so placing it in one particular genre may prove difficult.
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Chapter Five: When the cats are away.
Sunday morning proved interesting; I was in the shower when Basma arrived. She realised immediately I had spent the night at home, so we ended up sitting on my bed together, talking about everything as usual while Daddy cooked dinner. For the first time since I had known her, I chose to keep a secret, and I didn't tell Bas about breaking up with Tim. I wasn't ready to deal with the inevitable questions.
Unfortunately, Daddy was on some big case he was representing in London first thing on Monday, so he had to travel on Sunday to stay overnight and be fresh for the morning. With Bas at home, it did mean, of course, that I could not demand that he fuck me silly all day on Sunday.
Sunday afternoon, I dropped Basma at her flat and then Daddy off at the station and, determined to abuse his credit card, decided to drive to the new shopping centre. I passed through an unfamiliar part of town, and while I sat idling at some traffic lights, I could not help but notice the large neon sign. 'Love Shack' and judging by the outside, that was flashy and suggestive; it could only be one type of shop.
On a whim, I pulled over and parked. Nervously I looked about for anyone I knew before heading through the door in a rush. I felt like some much-needed relief, and with the only decent man out of town, the small battery-operated vibrator I had would not do.
"Hey girl, you need ID to be in here" I was used to that kind of challenge because without makeup, I can easily pass for a much younger teenager. I dug out my driver's licence and walked over to the counter. Behind the counter was someone I could only describe as everyone's favourite aunt, round of face with a ruddy complexion, a large smile, and unruly grey hair that kept falling to cover her surprisingly blue eyes.
She looked at my licence, then at me and, tilting her head to one side, said, "can't imagine why a pretty young thing like you needs what I am selling. The boys must be beating your door down."
I smiled back, she was lovely, and I felt comfortable with her, "err... my man's in London, and I wanted something to relieve a little tension."
She laughed, a full belly laugh that made me smile, "oh, tension is what we are calling it nowadays, is it?"
She came out from behind the counter and took my hand, leading me to a large display case at the back of the shop. Then still holding my hand and pointing with the other, she launched into her pitch. "Right, dearie, ignore all the ones on the left. They are Chinese knock offs. Good for one shot, and that's about it, and the ones in the middle are better quality and take a beating if you get decent rechargeable batteries," I had to smile at her deadpan delivery.
"Err... um... which would you choose," I asked nervously, then covered my face with my hands in embarrassment. I do not ever remember being this brave before with a stranger.
"Oh, that is easy, dearie", she answered, "that one on the far end, the magic wand, mains operated, never gives up and powerful enough to cope with any amount of tension!" She was smiling warmly at me. She went on, "I had an original Hitachi, which was designed as a sports massager, and now I got me that one there, beautiful device, never stops, never disappoints, especially if you get the magic G attachment."
"I'll take one," I blurted, and I could feel the blush creep up my neck to my cheeks.
"Is that with the attachment, dearie?" She laughed with a broad grin on her face.
I dumbly nodded, and her smile got broader.
She busied around opening the cabinet, taking out one small and one larger plain brown-sealed box, then she walked back to the counter with me trailing behind her, and she put them through the register. I had not even asked how much I just paid, now eager to leave.
As I gathered my two boxes, she reached under the counter. She produced a small tube, "cherry lube", she said, "how long you say your man's away?"
"Um, till Friday", I answered. She laughed her belly laugh again, reached under the counter and produced a second tube, "take a banana one as well then," tossing them both at me.
I thanked her and fled.
When I was safely back in my car, I broke out in giggles and then laughed. I laughed so much tears were running down my cheeks, and I had to compose myself before setting off.