Wanna Try Something Better?
Copyright 2020 by Stormbringer
A South Florida Universe Story
BBC'S ADULT BOOKS
Miami, Florida
1996
Ben hated computers.
He sat back on his stool, turning his attention from one screen to the next. The monitor on his register was showing the slow progression of the Windows95 point of sale system installing off a noisy CD-ROM. "Point of sale," he grumbled, "More like piece of shit."
The other screen on his desktop was more interesting, but also more worrisome. The picture finally appeared, a nude woman on her knees, sucking a large black cock off alt.sex. Pornography was on the internet now. Worse news for him, a survey done last year had shown that 80% of internet usage was porn.
The good old days were over.
Benjamin Blackwell Calhoun stood and surveyed his sex store. It had come a long way in the twenty years since he'd opened his shop. A red flashing neon sign simply read ADULT, telling passersby what items the shop sold. Back in those days, he had displays of magazines, dirty paperbacks, and sex toys. It had been a struggle for years, but then came the video cassettes and he'd made a fortune. The booths playing videos brought in more customers and then someone had drilled a glory hole into a wall between the booths. Ben wasn't mad, he was intrigued. He added holes to more of the booths, widening them to fit his thick black cock.
He'd watched couples and college kids enter his store, giggling, and laughing, buy some tokens off him and disappear into the booths. If the woman was attractive enough, he'd often excuse himself and sneak off to stick his monster cock through one of the holes. There were screams and gasps of disbelief. Sometimes it scared them off, sometimes there'd be a tentative touch on his cock, a squeeze of the hard head of his glans, sometimes he'd get a hand job, sometimes a blowjob, and sometimes, he'd feel the hot embrace of a wet pussy backing into his monster cock.
He wasn't the only one either. Men started showing up wanting the same and a few women became regulars, addicted to jerking and sucking anonymous cock. Some hung black men had even started sticking polaroids of themselves, pants pulled down to show off their junk, with phone numbers attached. He'd taken to calling the bulletin board the Bull Pen. Some hung white boys tried putting their pictures up, but Ben usually ripped their information down after they left.
He surveyed the store's extensive video section. Progress was threatening this as well. The movie Twister was being released on a new disk format this year and if that caught on... Ben sighed. He was 51 now and apparently, that was old enough to resent change. His sons, Buru and Bomani, had big ideas for the store, but Ben wasn't quite ready to turn things over to them. When the millennium came, he planned on taking his bike cross country. He toured several times a year, visiting biker weeks with other members of his biker club, the Black Panthers. The open road was starting to call him more and more.
The chime over the front door rang.
Things were slow during the daytime midweek and he wasn't too surprised to see a woman walking in. it was eighty degrees outside and she wore a belted overcoat making her figure look bulky. Blonde hair was tied back with a scrunchie and largely hidden under a scarf. Giant sunglasses hid most of her face. She wore slightly heeled sandals. Her feet were dainty and pretty with red polish on the nails.
Dildo!
"Afternoon," he said. "Can I help you?"
"Just looking," she replied.
Ben walked back behind the counter and sat down. He glanced at his cash register's monitor. 80% downloaded and it looked like the damn thing was stuck. He shook his head, annoyed. Ben turned his attention back on the woman.
Her gaze fell on the row of glossy magazines. Not the mainstream publications like Playboy or Hustler, the pure porn publications. She quickly looked away, embarrassed. She surveyed the VHS tapes, looking away from them also. She inched her way to the counter where the dildoes were, quickly surveying the assorted array of sex toys. Her eyebrows shot up above the top of her sunglasses when the lenses fell on the
King Dong
. The fourteen-inch lifelike black cock. She flushed and looked away. Ben tried not to smirk.
Her hand came up, Ben's gaze focusing on her wedding and engagement rings. The latter had an impressive diamond. He couldn't quite tell, but she looked about thirty.
Thirty. Peak sexuality. Her husband wasn't satisfying her. White dick too small or too limp. It didn't matter. Whatever it was, she was desperate and horny enough to go to a seedy sex shop bordering a black ghetto looking for a dildo to satisfy her needs. Her hands pulled a lifelike white six-inch dildo off the peg board.
"You sure that's the one you want, Miss..."
His voice startled her and she jerked her hand back, holding the dildo to her coat. "Smith, uh Jane Smith."
Lie.
She hurried to the counter. "Yes, this is exactly what I want. It's a gag gift for a bridal shower."
"Certainly, Mrs. Smith. Bridal shower gifts are usually bigger. Like the black ones over there or even the
King Dong
here. If it's a gag gift, the big ones really make you gag."
"Good heavens no," she gasped, her gaze running along the foot-long black dildoes. "Something realistic. I like this one. My husband is about this..."
"I understand, Mrs. Smith. Is he having... difficulties?"
Jane Smith's cheeks turned red beneath the glasses. She nodded.
"Well, I know it can be frustrating, but his problem is probably medical and it's important you don't resent him for it. And I know you're embarrassed being here, but you're doing nothing wrong. You're entitled to a satisfying sex life as much as anyone." Her cheeks were even more flushed now. "Jane, I sell lots of sex toys... sex tools... and they've helped save marriages. Now, if you're husband's a minute man or can't get it hard, lots of couples use tools to improve their sex lives."
"Oh god, no," she gasped.
"We're alone here, Mrs. Smith. Store's empty. You can talk to me."
"I want it for my alone time."