by Amy Andrews
There were a dozen different models in front of her, and it was fair to say Della didn’t even know where to start.
“It’s okay, sugar,” Frieda urged with a smile. “You can pick them up. They won’t bite. BOBs are good like that. They won’t hog the bed or make you lie in the wet spot, either,” she said with a wink.
BOBs? She glanced at Winona again, who said, “Battery-operated boyfriend.”
Oh God. That was what she was here purchasing, wasn’t it? A BOB!
Hand trembling, Della reached for the closest specimen. It was a light blue dildo with an exceedingly realistic vein network and impressive thickness. It was made of silicone, managing to be both hard and still spongy at the same time. She took in the girth and the blueness and wasn’t turned on.
Frankly, it looked like most of them could do her some kind of injury.
Was she supposed to be aroused by the sight of these…BOBs? And if so, why wasn’t she? But also, seriously, these looked like pro-level devices. Like she needed some kind of degree in masturbation to figure them out.
Surely there was an entry-level BOB?
The one in her hand was more like a battering ram or some kind of weapon. Who needed a gun when there was a club stashed in the bedside drawer?
Excruciatingly aware of Rosemary and Molly discussing cock rings—whatever the hell they were—somewhere off to the left, Della placed the dildo down. As if sensing how overwhelmed Della was, Frieda patted her hand. “Would you like me to take you through the merits of each model, hun?”
Relief, sharp and palpable, flooded Della’s system. “Oh yes, please.”
“Hey, us women, we gotta stick together,” Frieda said. “Reckon we should have to do the same for the men in our lives, too. Form a council of women and discuss the merits of each one, write out a list of pros and cons, ya know? Before we let any of our friends get too involved.”
Frieda laughed deep and throaty again. So did Winona. Della nodded in agreement. It sure as hell would have stopped her from making a monumental mistake.
“Okay now, this is your basic dildo.” Frieda’s pink sparkly nails tapped on the plain cylindrical plastic. It wasn’t particularly big or thick or long. “Nothing fancy or flexible about it, but good if you’re after something to just fill you up while you get off, yeah?”
The sex-shop owner was looking at Della for confirmation. She just nodded, because thinking about that made her think about Tucker and how conflicted she was about wanting him to fill her up and get her off, which made it difficult to form words. If she’d known coming to Frieda’s was going to make her think more of Tucker, not less, she might have rethought this expedition.
Frieda went through the selection of dildos she’d laid out, and Della’s embarrassment faded as her sexual curiosity cranked up.
“Now these”—Frieda indicated the section of devices she hadn’t yet touched—“are the vibrators. All made from medical-grade silicone, all BPA free, and all come with a one-year warranty.”
Della nodded, thoroughly impressed with Frieda’s sale pitch.
“This one”—she picked up a hot pink phallus—“is the basic vibrator.”
It was essentially the same shape as the dildo with a slightly more bulbous head. Frieda stood the item up and fiddled with the base for a moment before a whirring noise kicked in and the object started to quiver. She let it stand on its own, and all three of them watched as it trembled on the spot.
“There’s nothing too outlandish about it. Just a nice buzz, if you know what I mean. And”—she flipped it over so they could inspect the bottom—“It has three different speed settings.”
Frieda took it through the next two levels. By the time it got to the highest setting, the vibrator actually shimmied across the velvet a little before toppling over and buzzing merrily through its little disco dance for one.
“Then we get more adventurous.”
Frieda grabbed the next one, also hot pink. It was more sculptured, and shimmying was obviously not its thing. The head revolved, and the settings didn’t just involve speed but different kinds of stimulation, like pulsing and undulating, with rotating beads just below the surface for extra zing.
“These next few are different variations on that. Then we get to…” She pointed at a model that looked very familiar, with a protrusion from the main trunk that ended in two little ears. “The rabbit.”
“That’s my go-to,” Winona confessed.
Frieda grinned. “Mine, too.”
“Mine three.” Rosemary appeared at Della’s other elbow.
Yeah. Della remembered.
“Mine four,” said a customer who had walked into the store not too long ago.
Della blinked. Was she the only woman in eastern Colorado who didn’t own a vibrator?
“It has dual motors,” Frieda continued. “One operates the clitoral stimulator, and the other handles the G-spot stimulation.”
The first time Della heard about the G-spot had been in one of Winona’s novels. She’d been so curious she’d Googled it, only to find that it wasn’t exactly the most accessible part of her anatomy, and she’d relegated it to the too-hard basket.
But maybe with the rabbit…
“It has a load of different speed and intensity settings, and it’s whisper quiet.” Frieda picked it up and turned it on, ramping it up to maximum throttle to demonstrate the quietness of the hum it emitted. She handed it to Della to get a feel as she reached for the next one in line.
“This one here comes with a cordless remote control.”
Della instantly forgot about the bunny-eared phallus writhing in her palm. “Remote control?” She tried not to look like her brain had just exploded.
“Sure, sugar,” Frieda said. “It’s less…disruptive, shall I say, to your experience to have a control to adjust things, rather than having to interrupt the fun times to reach down and blindly fiddle with the settings.”
“Ah.” Della nodded. She hadn’t thought about the logistics, but it made sense.
“Or”—Frieda waggled her eyebrows—“give it to someone else to control, if you get my drift.”
Yes…Della got her drift. And didn’t that open up some possibilities. When she’d contemplated purchasing a BOB, it had been for her private use. The thought she could share it with someone else was a whole new level of hell yes please.
“What’s the range on that thing?” Winona asked.
“This one, you need to be in the same house. But I’m getting in a whole new generation shortly where you can be on the other side of the planet. All you need is a phone and an app.”
Della blinked. Wow…there really was an app for everything.
“And a good wifi connection,” Rosemary mused. “You don’t want to be on the brink of calling out to Jesus and suddenly have buffering issues.”
Winona laughed. “That would be inconvenient.”
Rosemary tapped her temple. “Us country folk gotta think of things like that. The internet around here can be as hinky as a two-dollar watch.”
Frieda reached for the last vibrator in line. “Now this beauty is the very latest model I have. Came in a few days ago.” It was purple and was more of a U shape. The vaginal prong of the U was shorter and thicker than the other vibrators. The other prong was about the same shape but flatter with a central…mouth? “It’s called The Suck-u-buzz and uses direct suction on the clitoris.”
In unison, Della, Winona, and Rosemary all leaned closer as Frieda turned it on and both ends vibrated. “Watch.” She turned her arm over and placed the mouth on the underside of her wrist. Della watched—they all did—as the skin drew taut around the mouth, then released as if it was actually sucking. “It uses sonic waves and pulses to provide a direct stimulus not to just the external structure of the clitoris but the parts you can’t see. It has eight different settings, and it
’s waterproof so you can take it in the shower or a hot tub.”
“Is it any good?” Winona reached for it, placing the mouth on her inner wrist, too. She stared at the object as it sucked on her arm, her expression inscrutable. “Have you tried it?”
“Oh my, yes. Mind-blowing. Best I’ve ever had.” Frieda pressed her palm to her chest as if trying to still palpitations. “Trust me, sugar, you won’t want to be operating heavy machinery for at least an hour or so after you’ve used it.”
Della was entranced by The Suck-u-buzz. It was the most fascinating of all Frieda’s BOBs. And who could beat such a personal recommendation?
“Let me see that thing,” Rosemary announced. She held her hand out for it, and Winona passed it across. She turned it on and attached it to her skin exactly where the others had tested it out. “Mmm.” She nodded. “That is good. And I wouldn’t mind an upgrade. Had the rabbit for a while now.” She switched it off and passed it to Della. “Probably going to need a little something extra, too, now that my sons have made it clear they don’t approve of my dalliance with Ray, and he’s insisting he do the honorable thing and stop seeing me.”
“What?” Della frowned, forgetting about The Suck-u-buzz for a moment. “What do you mean?”
“I told them about him yesterday afternoon. They weren’t very happy. They think I’m too old.”
“That’s outrageous, Rosemary.” Winona’s voice was full of indignation. “A woman’s sexual drive doesn’t wither just because she ages.”
“I know that, dear. But they’re men who prefer not to think about their mother’s sex life. I think they thought I’d just be happy to live on memories of Winston.”
“Pfft.” Winona scowled. “They should be proud of their mother wanting to stay so active.”
“Oh, they’re all for me being active, dear. As long as it’s Zumba or Pilates.”
“Would you like for me to have a chat with them?” Winona volunteered.
The older woman laughed. “Oh, I’d pay good money to see that.” She laughed again. “But they’re good boys. They just need some time to adjust to the situation.”
“You’re not going to seriously stop seeing each other, are you?” Della pressed.
“Ray’s adamant he doesn’t want to cause any ructions in the family.”
“Oh, Rosemary.” Della put her hand on the older woman’s shoulder, conscious of the bony angles. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s fine.” She patted Della’s hand. “But until I can convince Ray otherwise…” She plucked The Suck-u-buzz out of Della’s hands. “I’ll take one of these, please, Frieda.”
“Me, too,” Winona said.
“And you?” Frieda inquired as three sets of eyes turned in Della’s direction.
Della glanced at the vibrator. It was so tempting.
“Just putting this out there.” Winona leaned in and lowered her voice. “You don’t have to get just one.”
More than one. She hadn’t planned on buying multiple toys, but…why not? Hell, if she hadn’t just spent most of her savings on a car, she’d be tempted to buy the lot and test-drive every one of them. She could have some kind of scoring system. Hell, she could start a spreadsheet. All she’d need was a locked bedroom door, a couple of days off in a row, and a stock of Pringles and bottled water.
But with her funds limited, Della had to be choosy. She ran her eyes up and down the row of climax candy before settling on The Suck-u-buzz still in Rosemary’s possession. Dare she? Taking a deep breath, she tapped the first dildo model Frieda had demonstrated. “I’ll have this one. And”—she pointed at the rabbit—“this one with the remote control. And…I’ll also take The Suck-u-buzz.”
She had a feeling she was going to need to work her way up to The Suck-u-buzz.
Frieda was delighted. “I do like a woman who knows how to shop.”
“Ring ’em up, Frieda,” Winona said on a laugh. “Before she chickens out.”
Della laughed, too, but she wasn’t going to chicken out. Hell no. She was making time for her BOBs tonight. Her therapist had recommended it. And Della always had been a good patient.
Twenty minutes later, five happy customers were leaving the store with multiple shopping bags. “A pleasure doing business with you,” Frieda said at the door as she watched them all file out. The woman had a smile as big as Colorado on her face. Understandable, given she’d just made enough money to shut up shop for the week.
“Della?”
Oh crap. Della’s heart leapt into her throat. She turned to find her brother crossing the parking lot toward them with that long-legged stride, his limp barely perceptible. Della had to admit, he wore his uniform well, his mirrored aviator sunglasses giving him a remote, inscrutable expression.
“Hey…” she said as he came to a halt in front of the little group. “What are you doing here?”
“I saw your car.” He removed his glasses and anchored them in his shirt pocket. “I thought I’d see what you’re up to.”
“Just…” She swallowed. “Shopping.”
His gaze dropped to the pastel pink shopping bag she was holding. It had Frieda’s Palace printed boldly on the front in a lacy black print. Her first instinct was to guiltily hide the bag behind her, but he’d already seen it, and, last time she checked, buying sex toys was not a crime.
So, screw that.
With Winona’s hand—she didn’t have to turn to know it was her—suddenly at the small of her back, she straightened her spine.
“Yeah…so I see.” His gaze ran over the rest of the crowd, coming to rest on Winona. “I suppose this was your idea?”
“Arlo.” Della jumped in before Winona got the chance, narrowing her eyes at her brother. “Don’t be so rude. It was my idea.”
“Hey, Arlo,” a voice said from behind them.
Arlo flicked his attention to the door. “Hey, Frieda. Business is good, I see.”
“Booming,” Frieda confirmed with a laugh.
Winona raised an eyebrow. “On a first-name basis with Frieda there, Cap’n Crunch? I think I’ve been underestimating you.”
He gave her a tight smile. “You have no idea.”
Interestingly, Della felt Winona’s fingers curl into her shirt. “That’s funny. I didn’t picture you as the blow-up-doll type.”
He gave a half smile. “Whereas I pictured you exactly as the sex-shop-tour-guide type.”
“Ooh, officer…you’ve been picturing me?” Winona batted her eyelashes before turning her head slightly. “Hey, Frieda, I don’t suppose you have a T-shirt that says sex shop tour guide, do you?”
“’Fraid not, sugar. I got one that says Wine and Dildos.”
“I’ll take it.” Winona smiled. “The perfect night in.”
Oookay…as entertaining as it was to watch the back-and-forth between Arlo and Winona, they were attracting onlookers. And while Della may not have shriveled up and died at her brother knowing she’d just bought something—several somethings—at a sex shop, she didn’t want to advertise it to all and sundry, either.
“Anyway,” Della said. “It was nice”—awkward—“bumping into you, but we’ll be off now.”
Arlo nodded quickly, as if he, too, had zero desire to prolong this little interchange. He tipped his hat and stood aside. “You ladies all have a good day now.”
Winona flashed her shopping bag at Arlo, swinging it off her index finger. “Oh…we intend to,” she said with a saucy wink as she brushed past Arlo.
Della squeezed his arm as she passed by. “Stay safe on the roads,” he said gruffly. “There’s a storm front coming in later this afternoon.”
The sky was endlessly blue, the sun even warm, for March. But Della knew the weather in these parts could change rapidly. “I will,” she said reassuringly before scurrying after the others, who were crossing the parking lot.
“I don’t know if you know this, Della,” Rosemary announced as she caught up with her posse. “But your brother is one hella fine piece of ass.”
Della almost choked on her own tongue as Molly, Marley, and Winona all laughed.
“That he is,” Molly agreed.
“Yup.” Marley nodded. “Bone fide hottie.”
“Pfft.” Winona’s pfft was highly disparaging. “The man’s so uptight I bet you couldn’t squeeze a credit card between those ass cheeks.”
Rosemary grinned. “I volunteer to try.”
They were all laughing hard as they climbed into Jolene and headed home.
…
Tucker was trashing Drew’s latest euphemism for his funeral-home business—Ever After—when Arlo threw himself down on a barstool several hours later without greeting any of the customers. “Bourbon. Neat.”
Drew raised an eyebrow at Tucker, who wordlessly reached for a glass with one hand and the booze with the other. He placed the glass in front of Arlo and splashed in a couple of fingers. “Tough day.”
“You could say that.” Arlo threw the tumbler back and brought the empty glass down onto the bar with a solid thunk.
Tucker had a very bad feeling this wasn’t work related. He could read Arlo well. Work stuff got Arlo all antsy and puffed up, cussing up a storm. It was family—Della—that drove him to drink.
Della, who he’d pushed against Wade Carter’s penthouse windows and kissed like a crazy person in Denver. Della, who he’d been trying not to think about all week. Della, who he’d been actively avoiding.
Didn’t look like he was going to be able to avoid talking about her now, though. Resigned, Tucker held up the bottle. “Another?”
Arlo wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Yes but no. Weather’s about to get shitty. I’ll get called out for sure at some point.”
“So?” Drew demanded. “What happened?”