Huxton Street was pretty much devoid of life, the only sign of activity a pink neon sign: Erotic City. All the other shops were closed.
"Wanna go in?" We were drunk.
"Sure!" Tasha went first through the blacked-out door, wiggling her bum a little as she went. I followed, half stumbling across the threshold into the bright interior light. Wall to wall sex. Dildos, butt-plugs, porno mags, shelf after shelf of lube, all beckoned our excited eyes. We never did stuff like this - we shared a fairly routine sex life that involved her giving me sex once or twice a week and me keeping my extra-curricular masturbation quiet and inoffensive - but tonight we were really up for it.
"Want... One of these?" She asked devilishly, eyeing a massive black rubber cock. She knew what excited me most of the time, but tonight I was more interested in other things.
"I wanna know what you want." The clerk, a twenty-two year old girl with short green hair and facial piercings, turned the page of her copy of Rolling Stones, bored. She'd heard it all before. She chewed her gum.
"Hmmm..." Tasha sauntered. She browsed. She picked up a fluorescent pink vibrating cock ring, turned it over, and put it back on the rack. "Nope." More browsing. I followed, mesmerised by the slight sway in her walk. She wandered into porno-land and picked up one DVD after another, showing them to me, giving me the eye, and then putting them back, regardless of what my reaction was. Oversexed Nuns III, BBC Gangbang, Curious Jorge... "Uh huh. Nope. Nicht." Back in the bin. She perused, meandering here and there, checking out some warming lube, some strawberry blow job syrup, some Icy-Hot. Her jeans were skin-tight. She looked so great, I just followed behind, waiting for her to decide. Finally, she ended up staring at a rack of shelves filled with dildos of every size and colour.
"That what you want?" I only slurred a little as I tore my gaze away from her rear-end to look at the wall of prosthetic hard-ons. There were so many varieties, the only thing they all had in common was that they were bigger than mine.
"Maybe." Coquettish. Naughty.
"Well? Which one? The Dolphinater?"
"Nope." She grinned and picked up a box. "I want this one!" The box she'd picked up contained a seven-inch, flesh-coloured, strap-on dildo. "This is the one I want," she sang, passing the container to me. I examined the toy - a hollow, rigid strap-on erection, much larger and thicker than mine, and perma-hard. I could see the attraction: like everyone else (I hoped) we had the occasional awkward moment in bed. Still, it was kind of like throwing down the gauntlet.
"You sure," I asked, handing it back over.
"Yes!"
"Okay then," I said, already fishing a few bills out of my pocket. Chewing-gum girl looked up from the interview with Alice Cooper she'd been engrossed in.
"Is that everything, she asked as Tasha handed the box across. Her eyes lit up when the saw the box. "Oh, you'll love this," she said.
"Is it big," Tasha asked.
"You want to see it?"
"Oh yes, please!" I stood back and watched them open the box and take out the new toy. It was big. Unnaturally big, at least by my standards. Chewing-gum girl was gushing.
"The inner cavity is rigid, but it flexes just a little, and the outer skin is soft and yielding, so it won't hurt you."
"Wow," Tasha was impressed, "Baby, come over here and feel it!" I stepped closer and squeezed the tip.
