Page 60 of Bad For Me (Rock Canyon, Idaho 5)

“The lube comes in strawberry, raspberry, and watermelon and is perfect for body-tasting. And it’s safe for all those intimate areas.” Becca winked.

Callie imagined having Everett on his back, naked and hard. She’d pour a little lube into her hand, warming it between her palms before she lovingly stroked him from base to tip, her hands sliding over him easily until she leaned over, adding her mouth to the mix—

Caroline pinched her side. “Callie will do it!”

“Do what?” Callie said.

“I need a volunteer to try this next item.” Becca came over and pulled Callie to her feet before handing her a bottle and a bag of cotton swabs. “You just take this bottle of Fired Up and squirt two pumps onto a Q-Tip. Don’t use any more than that, or you might become uncomfortable.”

There were a few giggles around the room, and Callie had a bad feeling about where she was supposed to put it. “Um . . . uncomfortable where?”

More snickers sounded. “You just dab it on your clit, and then come back and tell us how it feels.”

Callie flushed and handed the stuff back to her. “You can pick someone else.”

“It’s not bad; I promise.” Becca held the bottle out for her again, but Callie shook her head. Taking pity on Callie, Becca patted her arm. “Okay.”

Caroline groaned as Callie sat back down, and Becca picked Ellie in her stead. “Just leave them in the bathroom in case anyone else wants to try it throughout the night.”

Ellie did a little shimmy all the way down the hall, and the room burst into hysterical laughter.

“Why didn’t you do it? That stuff is awesome. It makes you all . . . ” Caroline gave her an eye-rolling, mouth-open expression and started moaning.

“Okay, Sally, can it.”

“While we wait for Ellie to come back, let’s talk about masturbation,” Becca continued. “I, for one, am happy to live in a time when a woman can take control of her sexuality and her own orgasms. For some people in long-term relationships, this is a good thing. A lot can play into how often we have sex, and men can face a lack of interest too. We all remember the old headache commercial, but the truth is, it’s not just women who can lose their sex drives. Sometimes, you have to shake things up in the bedroom to rekindle passion.

“Take this little baby.” Becca held up a black battery pack and cord leading to a spiky blue circle of silicone. “This is the Builder Duo Three Thousand. Now, the Builder doubles as a vibrating cock ring for couples, or”—she popped off the ring to show a silver egg-shaped vibrator—“a do-it-yourself battery-operated buddy. You can also buy different sleeves, like the Gripper”—Becca slipped what looked like an octopus arm over the vibrator, complete with little suction cups—“the Lizard, the Porpoise, and the Porcupine.”

“Wow, who knew spikes were sexy?” Caroline asked.

“Feel it. It’s supple, and mixed with the vibration, it’s amazing.” Becca brought it over and turned it on for Caroline to touch, a sheepish grin on her face. “I love mine.”

Callie eyed the spiky sleeve and didn’t think it looked sexy at all. Or comfortable.

Just then Ellie came back from the bathroom, and the room broke into cheers.

“How does it feel?”

“It’s like . . . cold? And then hot, with some tingling.” Ellie did another little wiggle that had the room in hysterics.

“Just give it ten minutes, and it’ll have you really squirming. Perfect if your partner wants to play with you or if you want to play with him. Just give his tip a little dab”—Becca winked at the room, proving she was truly comfortable with any subject—“and stroke away.”

They moved on, and Becca passed around each item she demonstrated. There were glass dildos with tattoos, and vibrators with piercings. Callie was mor

tified, especially when a rubbery sex aid called “Coco” started making the rounds.

“She’s the perfect companion for a blow job, ensuring that your hand won’t tire and your gag reflex won’t ruin the fun.”

Okay, there’s never a good enough reason to say “gag reflex.”

Handing the wiggly, pink thing—“Coco”—off to Caroline, Callie got up to use the bathroom.

Luckily, half the room was already hammered and had forgotten about Callie’s failed demonstration—thank God. The last thing she wanted was to listen to cat calls and teasing, no matter if they thought it was all in good fun. Being sober in a room of giggling, sex-crazed women had to be one of the dimensions of hell that Buffy never mentioned.

Callie locked the bathroom door and went to the sink to splash some water on her face. As she dried it with one of the towels, the little bottle of Fired Up caught her eye.

No one has to know you tried it.

---