I work as a saleswoman for a company that markets adult products. The pay is low, the travel constant and the hours unsociable. But it's all I can get at the moment. Mostly it's parties or fundraisers I go to, usually held in someone's home. The fundraisers are nearly always mixed events. Although I sell more this way, I don't look forward to them. One of the 'benefits' of this job is supposed to be meeting people. But there's little pleasure going into a room where the guys all feel compelled to make grubby comments and innuendos and the women all laugh in an embarrassed way wishing they were elsewhere. And some guy always comments on my looks or what I'm wearing or wants to give me advice about how to use one of the products or calls for a demonstration. It makes me feel like the money I've earned is barely worth the effort.
Much better are the parties. The ones I get on my job sheet are mostly all women parties – hen nights, engagement showers, that kind of thing. The lines I use for the different products don't sound smutty and the atmosphere is much more relaxed. Women aren't bashful about speaking out when there are no men around, and they're not worried about being misunderstood. They also say things about their husbands or boyfriends that they would never say if they were in the room. There is much more laughter and although I don't sell as much, I hand around my card before I go and quite often there are phone calls and sales that way.
Which is how I came to have a very raunchy afternoon late this summer. You may think that a woman in my line of work would have lots of opportunity for a bit of fun. Well only if your idea of fun is half-drunk guys trying to grope you or propositioning you as you fill orders and pack up. In fact, working constantly with 'marital aids' and 'sex toys' tends to de-sensitise you and it's only when you see them through other people's eyes that you can be reminded that they are things intended to give erotic pleasure.
I was at an engagement party one evening. There were around twenty women all getting into the champagne and dancing to some music. I went through the usual routine and they had a bit of fun with some of the novelty items. The bride-to-be was in her late 20s and made a humorous display of fellating a chocolate dildo. There was the usual interest in the leather gear but before long I could sense they were getting bored. I handed round my cards, packed up the travel case and headed home.
The next afternoon as I was on the way to another function I got a call on my cell phone. The woman introduced herself as Monica from the day before. As she described herself, I quickly remembered her. She was 30ish with pale skin and dark hair cut in a pageboy look. Very striking, with good dress sense that showed off her trim body. She had been fairly quiet at the party but I had noticed her because she had seemed more attentive than the others and because she had large dark sexy eyes and large pouty lips.
On the phone she said she would be interested in looking through some of the samples in more detail and making some purchases. We made an appointment for the next day and I jotted down her address. It was some distance and I hoped that I would make a big enough sale to justify the trip.
Early the next afternoon I knocked on the door of a small newly-built house in a commuter suburb. Monica answered looking as well groomed as I remembered and ushered me into the living room. She had coffee ready and poured it as I opened the travel case. Most phone enquiries are about the S/M items that we stock, so I had a good selection of those with me together with specialist catalogues. But Monica showed little interest in those.
I asked her what she was interested in seeing and she sat back on the couch, sipped her coffee and said that maybe I could advise her. She told me that she and her husband had a good sex life (don't they all say that?) and that they had an uninhibited relationship (ho hum) where they discussed sexual matters openly (yawn). Well, she had long known that there was a time in her husband's life before she met him when he had experimented with bisexuality (uh oh). Although it had been years before, he had recently started talking about it in terms of a sexual fantasy.
Monica continued on saying she could see what he was leading up to and didn't like the idea of her husband looking for sex with another guy. Although they had tried most things she didn't like that idea at all.
She was quite nervous talking so openly to a stranger and even though I encouraged her with smiles and nods, it wasn't getting any easier for her. She stood up and said she needed a glass of wine.
While she fussed about in the kitchen, I looked at a row of framed photographs on the bookcase – wedding photos, holiday snaps and so on. Monica's husband was quite a hunk.
She came back in with two glasses of chilled white wine and, even though I make it a rule not to drink on the job, I accepted a glass hoping it would put her at ease. I asked her how I could help. She said that her husband's fantasy involved him in a submissive role.
By this time I had had enough of the coy way she was talking. 'You mean he wants to be screwed in the butt?' I asked, and smiled gently to show I was not being nasty. Monica nodded quickly and took a gulp of her wine. But the ice was broken and she was able to talk freely.
Apparently he had always encouraged her to play with his arse and she had no problem with fingering his butt and rubbing his prostate while giving him a blow job. And so long as he washed thoroughly, she was prepared to rim him on occasion as part of their foreplay. Afterall, he certainly returned the favour and it was a bit of a turn on for her that he would lick her butt for long minutes. But they rarely progressed to anal sex – she was willing enough but he didn't seem to have much interest beyond tonguing and sucking her shute.
As Monica talked I was aware of a breakdown of the normal barriers between people who had only just met. I would not expect a stranger to confide in me in this way, but it somehow felt natural enough and a warmth was building between us. We were talking like old friends who had long been sharing secrets.
She continued saying that she had concluded that her husband's fixation on things anal was based on his desire to get bum fucked; and she was concerned that he would start cruising some gay beat and do something stupid or get himself in trouble. Not to mention that she didn't like the idea of him getting involved with some guy. At this point she stopped, put a hand on my forearm, and spent a couple of minutes assuring me that she wasn't the jealous type and that they had experimented with swinging and threesomes. It was just that anything he did should be with her consent, and he hadn't even tried to talk to her about it.
She got up and took our glasses to the kitchen for a refill. When she returned she sat close to me on the couch, our knees touching, and told me that her plan was to buy a strap-on dildo and give him what he wanted herself. I had a sudden vision of Monica naked with a black leather harness strapped around her pale waist and between her buttocks, a rubber cock hanging heavily from her groin. I took a gulp of the wine to cool my suddenly hot face then told her I had a few in the sample case she could look at and a number more in the catalogue.
