First Porn Shop Visit

My junior year of college was the first time that I felt that I was in control of my sexual and romantic life. In high school and with the guys I dated early in college, it seemed like I was always following. Changing myself to fit in with what a guy was interested in, making choices that matched up with his vision of me. Even with my first serious boyfriend, whom I loved, he made all the big decisions, including the decision to break up.

Now he was graduated and gone. I had had a glorious summer in Italy that included a frustrating flirtation with an inexperienced guy and an amazing physical relationship with a slightly older man. I was ready to return to campus confident and determined to take ownership of my sex life.

Before I went to back to school, I went to my OB-GYN and asked for birth control prescriptions. I promised to practice safe sex, but I also wanted the ability to have a more intimate relationship if I met someone whom I trusted. And I didn't want to get pregnant just because I reluctantly let some quick-cumming guy play "just the tip."

Less than two weeks before classes started, I drove to a part of my hometown that I usually only sped through. I looked along the street sprinkled with fast food joints, check cashing places and bad motels to find my goal, an adult gift shop. I went in the middle of the day. I had planned on dressing conservatively, but it was 92 degrees outside, so I wore a short skirt and polo shirt. I felt a little guilty going in, and I definitely didn't look like the typical Wednesday afternoon porn shopper.

I parked on the side and quickly stepped in, covering my face just in case anyone my parents knew was driving by. I had never been inside a porn shop before. It was much less skeezy than I had imagined. I was struck by the wall of VCR tapes (it was the early 90s) with covers that were shocking and a little alluring. I didn't go there to buy tapes, but I couldn't look away from the photos of women and men and women and women doing all sorts of things. I was expecting "Debbie Does Dallas" or Cinemax-style soft porn, but this wall had themes I hadn't even imagined: Threesomes, foursomes, orgies and gangbangs. Lesbians, cheating wives, mature women. I was confused by some of the fetish videos: Cum swapping? Fisting? And so many movies about anal sex. So many.

Despite being shocked, I was also aroused. The images that stopped me in my tracks were those with a woman being penetrated. It was that simple. I had given plenty of handjobs and a few blowjobs, had several guys finger me, and a few eat me out. But I had only had intercourse with two guys. But I had enough to know that I loved the feeling of having a cock inside me. Specifically, I loved the moment when a penis first enters me. The anticipation, my wetness, the desire to be filled, then the satisfaction of having the head of his penis stretching my tight cunt and pressing through. I loved to watch a man's face as he penetrated me. I craved seeing that much pleasure and desire in men's eyes. When I saw a sexy man - from an 18-year-old at the gym to a 50-year-old sexy friend of my dad - I couldn't help but fantasize about what his face would look like as he entered me.

I stared at the rack of videos. "Night Shift Nurses" featured a woman, naked other than a nurses' cap, sitting on a smiling man, his cock nestled into her. I loved the satisfied look on both of their faces, and I clenched my thighs together as I felt dampness between my legs. "Double Desires" featured a woman wearing nothing but white heels, straddling a standing man, her nipples inches from his mouth, while another guy held her hips and drove himself into her from behind.

I had never thought much about anal sex, but the image reminded me of sex with my Italian lover, Enzo. He had taken me doggystyle and shocked me by pressing his finger into my anus. There in the porn shop, I recalled feeling being completely full, and the orgasm that had as my muscles clamped down on his cock and his finger at the same time. I had to take a deep breath to regain my composure and fight the instinct to press my fingers against my suddenly swollen clitoris.

I didn't come here to buy porn, and I was getting distracted from my mission. I noticed the clerk looking up from the counter watching me with a smile. She looked about my age, thin and tall. She had short hair and a nose piercing. She was black or mixed-race, with perky tits pressing against a too-tight T-shirt.

"Can I help you," she said politely, as if she had seen clueless women on their first porn shop trip before. I looked around, and there were only two other customers, a man wearing a shirt and tie looking at a rack of magazines, and a guy dressed like he was headed to the golf course. He was perusing the same rack videotapes as me, but on the far side of the rack. I walked toward the counter. I shyly smiled at the clerk. I was determined to complete my mission, part of my quest take control of my own sexuality.

"Vibrators?" I asked.

She smiled, and walked out from behind the counter. I followed her, and she did her best Vanna White impression, waving her hand at an unimaginably large and varied display of dildos and vibrators. She laughed. We were far enough from the other customers to talk privately. "Listen, this can be overwhelming. Let me help you."

She tilted her head and looked me up and down. Then she whispered. "Is it for you by yourself, or for you to play with someone else?"

"Oh, oh," I stammered. "By myself, Probably. Yes, definitely by myself. At least most of the time."

She giggled. And moved closer to me. "It would help if I knew about what you need." My cheeks burned bright red. I was embarrassed, but also excited. Women so rarely get asked what they want sexually. I decided to be completely transparent.

"I can't make myself come with my fingers," I said. "I have had orgasms from oral sex, or even from a lover's fingers. And I can come hard if my clitoris is stimulated during penetration."

I couldn't believe what I was telling this stranger, but just talking about it made my nipples harden. She smiled. "That helps a lot. We have what you need."

She reached up and pulled down the smallest item on the shelf. It was slightly longer than a tube of lipstick, and shaped like a tiny missile. "Now this little guy doesn't look like much, but for subtle, direct clitoral stimulation, you can't do better.

"I bet you have a roommate, don't you?" I nodded, staring at her slim fingers as she rolled the tiny vibrator around.

"So do I. This thing is so small, I can use it with someone in the same room. I just turn on a fan to cover up the buzzing sound," she said. "And, the fan noise also helps cover my moans after this little guy does his job."

I shivered and my pussy spasmed a tiny bit, imagining her in her bed, vibrator beneath the sheets, having a quiet but satisfying orgasm. She flicked a switch on the bottom and the buzzing began. She put her hand out to me, and I reach out to hold it. Instead, she gently took my wrist and flipped my arm so my palm was facing up. She ran the vibrator from my wrist up to the inside of my elbow and back again. "Mmm," I said. She turned the speed up, and did the same thing. Then up again. My pelvic muscles tightened as I imagined turning up the power on my clit. I closed my eyes. When I opened them, both men on opposite sides of the store were staring at us. I met their gaze one at a time, and they each turned back to the magazines and tapes.

"It's not as powerful as the other models. But it's generally enough for many women, especially beginners. But some ladies need more power and fast vibration on their clit." She pulled out a long rod with a ball on the top.

"This is the Hitachi wand. It needs to be plugged into an outlet. It is the luxury SUV of clitoral stimulation."

I was shaking my head, a little scared and worried that I couldn't hide anything that big. "Yeah, probably a bit much for a dorm room," she said.

"I am moving to an apartment," I said. "But that thing scares me. I'll take the little guy."

Little did I know, years later, that the wand would become 35-year-old me's favorite toy.

I exhaled, happy to have accomplished my goal as she pulled an unopened box with one of the small vibrators and handed it to me.

"Oh sweetie, you're not done yet," she said with a smirk. "You said you like penetration with clitoral stimulation?"

I nodded sheepishly.

She turned back to the shelf, and I couldn't help but stare at her round bottom. She pulled down a bright purple translucent rubber cock, with a smaller attachment on top of it. The attachment was about the size of a thick finger, with flaps extending from it. She hit a button and it came to life. The "penis" spun, while the finger vibrated. She rubbed the vibration on my wrist again. Boldly, I moved my hand and grasped the thick part as I would a man's shaft. I stroked it and stared, thinking about whose penis it reminded me of. The shaft curved in the middle.

"No," I said. "I like the concept. But I want one that is straighter and thinner than this. And not purple. Black."

She raised her eyebrows. "OK! Now the lady knows what she wants." She moved down the shelf and pulled down a box displaying silicone shaft which was thin and then ended with a mushroomed-shaped top. It was straighter than the purple one, with a slight upward curve right before the head, but with a similar clitoral attachment. It was like love at first sight. I grabbed the box too quickly.

"Or ...," she said. "There's this upgraded model." The box she showed me was for an identical vibrator to the one in my hand, except it had another arm opposite of the rabbit. The second attachment had four balls, a tiny one on the top, followed by three progressively larger spheres. "Some women like to feel completely full," she said, as if reading my mind from earlier.

I blushed again. She pulled it out of the box for me. I ran my fingers over the head, stroked the shaft, then felt the rabbit ears. Finally, I took each ball in my hand and examined it, comparing the size to Enzo's finger. My rectum tightened thinking about it. I took the three-headed version.

"Anything else?" she said, grinning.

I thought about making my escape, but the idea of using those toys had made me horny, and I might need some new visual aids. I turned back toward the wall of videos.

"I know. The choices can be intimidating," she said, taking me by the wrist and leading me behind a curtain. There was a tiny room with a TV and VCR. I sat on a small stool.

"Again, what exactly do you like?" she said.

"I don't know yet. I've never really watched porn other than a few glimpses at Cinemax," I said.

"That's not porn, honey," she said. "What turns you on?"

I paused. "I can find all sorts of people sexy. I like to imagine myself in the scenes, so I like them to be at least sort of realistic. I don't like corny jokes or cheesy lines. That would turn me off. And no ugly guys. If the women are beautiful, the men should be, too. And I don't like seeing women hurt, degraded or used. Rough sex is great, but only if the woman wants it that way."

She went into yet another backroom and came back with an arm full of videotapes. She put a tape in, fast-forwarded about 10 minutes, and let it play. A fit, good-looking guy with 80s hair was on a masseuse table. A sexy brunette had been giving him a massage, but transitioned to a handjob. I sat up on the stool, admiring his erection and her careful stroking.

"This one has a decent story, and I like that the woman is often in control. The man is deferential and nervous. Not all balls and bravado like so many guys in porn." I nodded, and she ejected the tape and added it to my bag of sex toys. Again, I had to stop my hand from rubbing my crotch to give me some relief.

She put in another tape, "Campus Cuties." A tiny blonde and a big cowboy type were fooling around on a blanket. She sped up the tape, and they quickly moved from blowjob, to pussy eating to her riding him. "This one is kind of cheesy, but I thought it would be good for a college woman like yourself," she said. "And, we're having a buy-two-get-one-free deal, so I'm throwing in one surprise for you."

I followed her out of the room a little relieved, but also disappointed. For a moment, I fantasized that I might be in the middle of my own porn scenario. I imagined that she might make a move on me in the backroom, and we would end up sucking each other's nipples and 69-ing on the floor, coming with actors on the screen. It was a surprising fantasy, considering I had never even kissed a woman before.

She led me to the register, where she threw three bags of batteries and a container of lube into the bag and rang up a higher total than I had planned to spend, but I was flush and excited. I thanked her. "I'm Lily, by the way."

"I'm Eve," she said. "I work Tuesday through Thursday afternoons. Just in case, you have any other questions."

In the car, I opened my bag of treasures greedily, looking over both vibrators, the magazine and the tapes. "The Masseuse" was the first one, and clearly the most professional and newest. "Campus Cuties" looked a little dated. The mystery tape that she threw in was "Where the Boys Aren't," and the cover art was four gorgeous young women kissing and groping each other. I giggled to myself and blushed again.

Was she flirting and sending me as message, or was she just a tease? I tried not to speed home. I'd have the house to myself until my parents got off work at 7, and I planned to have Masturbation Fest 1992 for the next several hours.

I rushed in and locked the door behind me, pulling my top and skirt off as I walked to the TV room. I stopped in the guest bathroom to grab a towel to lay on. I stared at myself in the mirror, naked other than my panties. I could see the wet spot from my excitement. My nipples were erect and my face was still pink from blushing the whole time I talked to Eve. I ran my hand over my nipples and shivered. I pressed a finger against the wet spot, rubbing against my clit.

I put "The Masseuse" in the VCR and grabbed the remote. In one of the first scenes, the masseuse shaved the actor's pubic hair and balls until they were smooth. He looked like Jean Claude Van Damme, and his cock and balls were impressive. After the shave, he asked for a handjob, agreeing to pay more. She got lotion and went for it. I loved watching her take control of him. She placed her left hand around the bottom of his shaft and over his perfectly symmetrical, smooth balls, while she stroked him with his right hand. He pulled down her white top and touched her tit, then begged her to kiss him. I liked that he desired her so much. She kissed him while stroking. I was soaked. I pulled the panties off.

I unboxed the small vibrator and put in the batteries. I lay on my back and spread my legs. I ran my fingers over my labia, swollen and moist with excitement. I turned on the vibrator on the lowest speed. On the screen, she was stroking the top of his shaft and sped up. He pushed his ass off the table, desperate for relief. She teased the head, and then pulled hard. A wild burst of cum fired out, followed by a long stream that hit his stomach. She squeezed the shaft hard, milking out more dribbles of cum that ran over her fingers. Every muscle in his body tightened, and she massaged the cum into his shaft. I pressed the vibrator against my engorged clit.

The action ended, and I frustratingly fast-forwarded the tape. There was plenty of talking, and I didn't need the volume to know he was growing obsessed with her. They were back in the massage parlor and he seemed even more desperate. Her top was off, but they were still talking. I fast forwarded it more, and finally he was seated and she knelt between his legs. His pink cock was between her lips and she was in control. I turned the vibrator up to level 2, pressing it against my clit. She focused her mouth on the head, with long strokes on his shaft. I thought about my handful of real-life lovers, and how sucking cock always got me excited. Some of them thought it was an act, that women didn't actually enjoy blowjobs. But nothing got me wetter than taking control of a man, making him nearly helpless and making him come. On screen, the first spurt got in her mouth and lips, and she kept stroking. My favorite was how she licked his head, so sensitive from orgasm, spreading cum over the tip, then slurping it during the last spasms of orgasm, a tiny bit of cum on her lip and chin. That was enough. I pressed the vibrator hard against my clit and came. I clamped my thighs together, wishing a cock was between my legs to feel the shudders of my orgasm. I rubbed my nipples as the orgasm subsided, and Ifell asleep for 10 minutes naked and satisfied on the floor.

When I awoke, the couple on screen were in his apartment. He was sucking her nipples, then she spread her legs wide and he started licking her. Despite the orgasm, I was still horny. Watching him go down on her kept my juices flowing. I went back into the bag. I pulled out the three-headed vibrator. Batteries were already installed, so I turned on the lowest setting, fiddling with the dials. I wanted the rabbit head moving, but the rod steady. And I was going to ignore the anal beads ... for now.

My Jan Claude Van Damme-looking boyfriend was eating pussy like a champ. I fantasized that the vibrating rabbit ears were his tongue, flicking my clit. I lubed the head of the dildo portion and rubbed it against my opening. I pressed inward against my own resistance. It felt odd being both the pusher and the receiver. I pressed the spherical tip between my labia, and slid it around until I felt myself open up slightly. I pushed harder, and felt a pop as I my new toy slid inside my walls, which widened to accept more. The deeper I went, the more I could tell a brilliant woman designed this tool. It was perfectly shaped to fill and pleasure me, and just as it got deeper, the ears reached my clit. Now I held it by the base, pulling it out when the sensation got to intense, going slightly deeper when I wanted to be more full.

On the TV screen, he had made her come once with his tongue, and he had moved on to massaging the masseuse. He rubbed oil on her tits and his cock, spreading it all over. Now he was on his back and she was on top with her back to him of him like a stripper giving a lap dance. His cock floated just beneath her soaked cunt. He rubbed her tits and she stroked him. Then he positioned himself to enter her. I wanted him to fuck her so bad. I was going to time his thrusts into her with my own pushes of the vibrator into me. But he was such a tease. He jerked himself off while she rubbed her clit. Instead of fucking, they put on a mutual masturbation show. He came all over her legs and ankles. I felt cheated, for me and her. The orgasm welling up in me stalled. I fast-forwarded through several talk-heavy scenes explaining that she had another boyfriend. None of that mattered to me. I needed to them fuck.

Eventually, they were back in his apartment, and she was blowing him again. That got me back on track. I focused on the vibrator again. Finally, an hour and 15 minutes into the movie, she took control. She straddled him, and pulled his gorgeous penis toward her, slowly sliding down until she was riding him. I pushed the dildo in deeper. Then she leaned down and kissed him, bucking faster and harder. I started thrusting the dildo into me to their rhythm. Looking up to see her labia spreading around his cock and his perfect balls sent me into a frenzy. Then she was beneath him in the missionary position with her legs spread wide. I put myself in the same position, pushing my feet in the air like hers. I closed my eyes and imagined the actor fucking me. I pressed the dildo in like it was his cock. The vibrating edges bombarded my clit.