Chapter 1

Claire had never had a panic attack, but she felt a kinship with those thusly afflicted as she stared through the windshield of her car at the establishment called "Christie's Toy Box."

She'd never done anything like this. In her opinion, had someone looked up the entry for "good girl" in the dictionary, her picture might be there. Not that she was completely innocent. She'd giggled with her friends as they watched the occasional porn video, but that had been years ago, decades, in fact.

And while she'd heard quite a bit about sex toys, she'd never owned one. The very idea of going into an adult entertainment store seemed so foreign to her that she couldn't believe she was actually parked beside one. The same frustration that had driven her to get this far made her open the door and place one foot onto the ground.

Christie's was located about fifteen miles outside of town, just off the interstate. It stood alone, the only building in sight, perched next to cow pasture, as befitted a place that was a social pariah. But that was good, because Claire couldn't have gotten up the courage to go there if it had been in town, where anybody might have seen her going inside. As she scurried toward the entrance, she had a brief but hilarious fantasy that, when she entered, she'd find Jennifer, the neighborhood gossip, inside buying all sorts of perverted things.

A bell dinged as she opened the door. She expected everyone in the place to turn and stare at her, but forged ahead. She'd assumed it would be a dark, sleazy kind of place. That it wasn't, was her first surprise.

There was a woman behind a counter, hunched over a Sudoku book.

Nobody looked at her. The place was well lit and, other than the actual contents, looked like any other store she'd ever been in.

There were half a dozen people browsing around, and none of them gave her so much as a glance. She suddenly felt silly in her floppy hat and big sunglasses. Upon impulse, she removed them. She was surprised at how liberated that made her feel.

Now the woman looked up at her.

"If you need any help finding anything, let me know," she said.

"Okay," said Claire, gratified that her voice sounded firm.

She moved then, looking first at the wall on her left. It was literally covered with things packaged in plastic. She hit the jackpot within twenty or so feet, where she saw penis-shaped objects of every size and color. It was like being in that candy store in the mall, where it would take hours just to examine everything they offered.

She stifled a giggle as the word "flavored" leapt off one plastic container at her.

Her mood turned from apprehensive to fascinated. All the objects arrayed in front of her were phallic shaped, but there the similarity ended. The variety was astonishing. They went from things that were slim and smooth, to those that had ridges, and even spikes. She winced as she looked at one monstrosity that was double ended, with protrusions on the shaft, a veritable Swiss army knife of dildos.

She arrived at the section where things looked lifelike. This was more like it. Her eyes wandered over the different colors and sizes. Some had testicles attached, and looked so real she had a short, uncomfortable fantasy that involved a knife and some unfortunate man.

She leaned forward.How on earth did they make these things? Did someone model for them? Were they copies made with casting materials?

She did let out a giggle one time, as she saw one called, simply, "Lenny". Only then did she take in the plethora of names some advertising agency had come up with, all of which meant "artificial penis."

She looked at her watch. She needed to hurry.

She picked the most lifelike one that matched her own coloring. She was conscious of the fact that it was bigger than her husband's.

At least she could depend on this one to be firm and ready when she needed it.

The clerk looked put her Sudoku book aside and used a hand-held scanner to ring up the sale.

"Good choice," she said."You'll like this one, but we're having a special on Wascally Rabbits. Forty percent off. And they vibrate too. They're amazing."

Claire swallowed. This was a transaction just like any other she'd ever made, but it still felt surreal.

"No thanks," she said. "Just this one."

The woman lowered her voice, conspiratorially.

"I'll give you a card good for forty percent off any item. It's good for sixty days, okay?"

"Sure," breathed Claire.

Five minutes later she was back on the interstate, headed east.

The dildo was in the bag in the back seat, the one that held all the other birthday presents she'd gotten at the party her best friend had thrown for her, earlier that day.

"You won't believe what I got for my birthday," said Claire as she set the bag down on the dining room table.

"Try me," said John, whose eyes remained on the TV screen.

She took a deep breath and reached into the bag. She pulled out the dildo, which she'd removed from the packaging. It felt firm, astonishingly lifelike, except it was cold.

"This," she said.

He finally looked, and she wiggled her hand. The silicone masterpiece in her hand swayed.

"You're shitting me!"

She finally had his full attention.

"Who the hell gave you that?"

"Cindy. She said it was for when I wore you out and needed more."

He stood, and approached. There was an odd look on his face.

"You're not going to ... um ... actually use it ... are you?"

"You haven't paid any attention to me in months, John."

"You know how tired I am when I get home from work."

"I know how late you stay up and watch TV," she countered.

He stared at his potential replacement, gripped in her manicured fingers. His face smoothed.

"You won't use that," he said, firmly. "You're not that kind of girl."

"I'm the kind of girl who has needs," she said, her voice level.

He grinned. "You won't use it. And you don't need to. I'm your husband. I'll take care of you."

"You haven't been," she reminded him, anger simmering under the smooth features of her face.

"I've just been tired. Everything will be fine, Claire. You don't need that."

"Whatever," she said, suddenly unwilling to extend whatever this was. She turned on her heel and took the bag with her presents in the bedroom.

He didn't follow. She was pretty sure he'd gone back to sit down in front of that thrice damned TV again.

She sat on the edge of the bed and lifted her hand to look curiously at her brand new dildo. She'd taken it out of the plastic packaging hastily, and hadn't taken the time to examine it. That would be all she needed ... for Mrs. Hopkins, next door, to look out her window and see her, sitting in her car, fondling a rubber penis.

It seemed heavier, now that it was out of the packaging. It was both more flexible than she'd expected it to be, and amazingly firm at the same time. It was a permanent erection.

It was her permanent erection.

Her nipples tingled inside the sensible bra she was wearing.

She had no idea what to do now. She'd bought the damn thing. Her plan had been to show it to John, and she'd expected him to perceive this actually quite lovely thing as a threat. She'd hoped he would show her that she didn't need something like that. But all he'd done was tell her she didn't need it.

He did that a lot ... telling her what to believe ... what to think ... what to do ... what she did and did not need.

She wrapped her hand around the dildo and, tentatively, stroked it. It wasn't like John's. Nothing moved on it. It was lifeless.

She tried to imagine using it, and felt frustrated that she wasn't sure she'd know how. Did you just stick it in? Did you move it in and out? How deep should you go? This thing was almost twice as long as John was. It would touch her in places she'd never been touched before.

If she used it.

He still hadn't come to bed. She'd gotten home late, hoping he'd already be in bed, so she could show him the toy then.

No such luck.

With a sigh, she removed her other presents from the bag and sorted through them. Some went on the dresser, some on the vanity, and a couple in the chest of drawers. They were typical kinds of presents from people she worked with ... a scarf ... a tube of fancy bubble bath crystals ... a pair of ankle high insulated slippers, for wintertime. Cindy had actually given her a very nice silk blouse. She admired it again as she hung it in the closet. She'd have to make sure John didn't talk to Cindy about the dildo. She didn't think he would. Cindy intimidated him. She was beautiful, out of John's league, and he knew it. She also exuded self confidence. Cindy knew men like John lusted after her, and undressed her with their eyes, but she ignored them. She had better things to do than lower herself to their level.

She was suddenly tired. Her plan had failed. Now she owned a dildo which was useless to her. He was right. She wouldn't use it. She couldn't. She'd be too embarrassed.

She opened the drawer in the night stand and dropped the long, pink, astonishingly realistic faux penis inside. It thumped heavily.

Feeling drained, she undressed, performed her nightly rituals in the bathroom, and put on her pajamas.

Crawling into bed, she put on her sleep mask, leaving the light on. If she turned it off, he'd just turn it on when he came to bed anyway. Sometimes he was so thoughtless.

As she drifted off to sleep, "sometimes" in her previous thought became "most of the time."

She didn't think about the dildo until she got to work the next morning. She wouldn't have thought about it then, except Cindy sauntered into her office and leaned against the door frame.

"You'll never guess where Janet said she saw your car parked last night," she said, without preamble.

Claire froze. She'd left the party and driven straight to Christie's. Then she'd gone home. There was only one place Janet could have seen her car that she would comment to anyone about. She thought furiously. It would do no good to deny it. And there was no way in the world she was going to confess to Cindy Richardson why she'd actually been there. Better to try to play it off.

"Christie's? I was looking for something to use as a gag gift for a friend of mine," she said, trying to keep her voice calm.

"No problem there," said Cindy, as if this were the most normal conversation in the world. "I could spend hours in that place."

"Really?" She couldn't keep the surprise from her voice. This was astonishing!

"What? You think there's some reason why I wouldn't be seen in there? They don't exactly know me by name, but I've dropped a pretty penny in that place."

"I am astonished," said Claire, deciding to just be truthful.

"Don't be," said Cindy, grinning. "What'd you get? Anything interesting?"

Claire tried to suppress her amazement at Cindy's casual acceptance that a woman like Claire might visit a place like Christie's Toy Box. She thought about the plethora of things she'd seen, and tried to remember one of them that was more innocuous than a ten inch rubber dildo.

"I was just getting some ideas," she said. "I was looking for something silly. Like they have something they call 'Instant Pussy'." It was out of her mouth before she realized she'd actually said it. She blushed furiously.

"Somehow I thought you didn't swing that way," said Cindy, arching one eyebrow.

"No, no!" gasped Claire. "You drop this in water ... it's a capsule ... and when it melts, it turns into a little sponge, shaped like a cat."

"Oh yeah," said Cindy. "Good grief. I remember one of my boyfriends in high school buying something like that from a vending machine in the toilet of a filling station. For some reason he thought that would get me to let him play with mine."

Claire was suddenly worried.

"Do you think Janet will spread it around I was there?"

"What if she does?" said Cindy. "You're an adult. It's a store for adults. There's nothing wrong with patronizing it."

"Yes, but people will talk."

"Fuck'em if they can't take a joke," said Cindy.

Cindy was like that. She was so unafraid, so sure of her own identity, so willing to be herself, even if other people disapproved.

"I don't need the grief," said Claire.

"Then ignore any drama that develops," counseled Cindy. "You're good at your job. It's nobody's business where you go or what you buy on your own time. By the way, did you get anything for yourself?"

"Like what?" asked Claire, carefully.

"Like something to liven up your sex life, of course," said Cindy, completely unashamed.

"What makes you think there's anything wrong with my sex life?" asked Claire, a little offended.

"Because you're normal," said Cindy. "So am I. So are our husbands. I've been married ten years. I know the deal. It happens to pretty much everybody. There's no shame in taking matters into our own hands - pun intended - when life lets us down now and then."

"Oh?" Claire felt prickly with anger at Cindy's blithe assumption that Claire and John were having problems of some kind. Almost immediately, though, she admitted to herself that, whether it was rude or not, Cindy was right on the money. In fact, Cindy's allusion to the concept that she, too, got less attention from her husband than she wanted, made her feel a little better somehow. That feeling transposed into bravado. "What do you use, then?"

"Me? I'm a Rabbit fan, tried and true," said Cindy, shamelessly. "I've worn out two of them. When I had to buy the third one, I decided to spend a little more and get a better quality one."

"Oh," said Claire, helplessly. She hadn't expected the woman to actually answer her.

Suddenly she remembered Sudoku woman saying they were having a special on "Rabbits." Claire had no idea what a rabbit was, other than a long-eared, fluffy animal. And she didn't think they were selling bunnies at an adult toy store.

"They were having a special on those last night," she said, more to herself than to be heard.

She was, of course, heard.

"Did you get one?" asked Cindy, once again making Claire feel a bit breathless at how bold this woman could be. "What brand? I know almost all of the brands, and which ones are good and bad. Have you opened it? You can't return it if you've opened it."

"I didn't get one of those," said Claire, holding up her hand to stop the woman. For some reason, she felt compelled to say more, and was astonished to hear her voice add, "I just got one of the regular ones."

"To each, her own," said Cindy, shrugging. "Have you ever tried a Rabbit?"

By now Claire had decided that, as far as Cindy was concerned, this really was a normal, casual conversation. Somehow that made all this less surreal.