Chapter 9

“This one,” she said, tapping the glass. As the clerk took it out, Emma added, “I’d like to hear it. I hate the sound these things make.”

The clerk stood and put the display box on the glass. “I know,” she agreed, opening the box and handing the machine to Emma. “Beastly racket. Really ruins the mood. Let me plug it in for you.” She bent at the waist, then straightened and grinned. “Give it a buzz.”

Sasha giggled as Emma switched it on. The sound was barely audible. Emma smiled.

“It’s become very popular,” the clerk explained. “It’s well-made and produces very little noise ... itself, if you know what I mean.” She’d added the last to Sasha, who promptly blushed, then relaxed and giggled again.

“Even with the attachments in place -- “ The clerk popped the standard rounded hard-plastic cap on the vibrating metal rod. “Touch it to the glass.”

The sound was less than either customer expected. Emma put it against her palm and pressed. No rattling within the machine, either.

“It’s $89.95,” the clerk said, “but the price will probably come down in a few months --”

“I’ll take this,” Emma announced.

A third customer wandered over. “Is it noisy?” asked a cultured, utterly feminine voice. The clerk and her original two customers looked at her.

The woman exuded sensuality. Tall for a Japanese woman, with thick black hair that cascaded to the shoulders of her well-tailored coat, she had a beautiful face, soft, full lips and a somehow innocent curiosity in her large, dark eyes that couldn’t cancel the effect of her ripe body. When she realized all three were looking at here, she hastily apologized: “I am so sorry to intrude.” To the clerk: “When you have a moment, please?”

“No intrusion,” Emma said quickly. “Here, see for yourself!” She put the machine in the woman’s gloved hand. The Japanese woman switched the machine on and her eyes widened at the low volume of noise. Holding the vibrating knob against her hand, she looked at the box and the other implements.

“May I?”

“Please,” Emma said, stepping back. The woman turned off the machine and replaced the knob with the feather duster. When she flipped the switch this time, she held the little fronds against her cheek and her eyes half-closed.

“I’ll take it!” she said quickly, flipping off the machine.

“I’ll be with you in a moment,” the clerk said. “Will there be anything else?” she asked Emma and Sasha.

“Go ahead and ring her up,” Emma said. “We’re not done yet.”

“I think someone is planning a party,” the clerk whispered and smiled as she motioned to the elegant Japanese woman.

As Emma led Sasha back toward the front of the store -- and the dildoes -- Sasha whispered, “More? Are you kidding? Half of that kit will wipe out my playtime budget --”

“That’s for me,” Emma said. “So are two of the next four things I plan to buy.”

The clerk was at their side a moment later. “Guess she’s planning a party, too.” She nodded toward the Japanese woman, who was examining a collection of oils and lubricants. “Found anything you like?”

Emma pointed. “That one -- “ A U-shaped dildo crowned with a pair of only slightly-larger-than-lifesize knobs. “-- that one -- “ A funny little thing that Sasha only slowly recognized as a butt-plug. “ -- and that one.”

“This one?” The clerk was reaching into the case and indicating a twelve-inch double-ended dildo.

“No -- that one.”

Sasha again gaped. Emma was buying what looked like a twenty-inch long double-header ... and the clerk could barely close her fingers about its girth.

“And a pair of Joni’s Butterflys,” Emma said.

As the clerk went behind the counter to finish gathering and start totaling the purchases, Sasha whispered urgently, “Did you see the size of that thing? I hope you don’t think I --”

Emma turned Sasha face to hers and kissed her, full and heavy, on the mouth -- silencing her.

“Trust me.”

“But -- which two am I paying for?”

“The butt plug and a Joni’s Butterfly. We’ll put it all on my Amex; double-warranty that way.” Emma snickered as she imagined herself calling American Express: “Yes, the FuckForever vibrating kit I bought was guaranteed for a year of trouble-free use and just eight months later, the damned thing burned out.”

At the register, the clerk finished adding up the damage: “That’ll be... $245.92. Cash or charge?” Emma passed her that Little Green Card. As she wrote up the charge slip, the clerk said, “Oh, since you bought more than two hundred worth, you have a choice of twelve free batteries or a tube of our special fruit-scented orgy lube.”