Page 3 of The C*ck Down the Block

No, wait. That’s not entirely true. I passionately believed every woman should have a lovely selection of sex toys at her disposal and am a fan of online shopping with discreet packaging. I’m happy to receive my own choice of vibrator or what have you in the mail. I have a fine collection of my own, thank you very much.

What has me shaking my head, once again, is that this particular delivery is from my mother.

Yes, my mother, the former BBW porn star turned Volvo driving soccer mom turned sex educator and sex positive and body positive influencer, sends me, umm, pleasure aids, in the mail, regularly. On her many adventures around the world, instead of sending me a t-shirt that says, “My parents went to Thailand and all I got was this dumb t-shirt,” she sends me the most exotic of sex toys.

An orgasm a day keeps the blues away, she always says. Like, it’s literally her tagline on her Instagram account. Not that I don’t love her for trying to make an impact on the world, but it’s still weird in so many ways.

I begrudgingly opened the box and pulled out an intricately carved penis with an incredibly happy, smiling face on the... head. Of course, the moment I got it out, it started vibrating and swirling, and there did not seem to be an off button. I couldn’t even figure out where in the world the batteries went so I could rip them out and throw them in the trash. I rolled my eyes and tossed the thing on the couch.

Luke crowed at it, flew up onto the cushions and pecked at it like the biggest, yummiest of worms. Oh, gawd. Well, as long as he didn’t go wandering off with it, I guess he could have it. Maybe he’d kill the damn possessed thing, and then I couldchuck it into the spare laundry hamper in my closet, along with all the other ones. At this point, I could start a sex toy donation center for women who can’t afford dildos from around the world. If anyone ever discovered my strange hoard... well, not like that is going to happen.

Thank goodness I hadn’t already grabbed my mail when Luke Skycocker had escaped, or Chris would have tackled me, my rooster, and my vibrating cock on the sidewalk. I’m sure he’d seen his fair share of sex toys in his many sexcapades, but even he didn’t know about my dirty secret stash in the closet. I really did need to figure out how to dispose of all of them.

I reached into the box again and pulled out a bag of penis shaped lollipops and an envelope with kanji and cherry blossoms with penis shaped stamens decorating the surface. Ah, they were in Japan. I did remember her saying something about having gone to a penis festival in Kawasaki.

She must have had a blast and of course had fun shopping for this present for me there. My mother also wrote me notes about the adventures she and my dad were having, the sights they were seeing, the food they were trying, and where they were headed to next. That part, I was interested in. I looked forward to her letters.

The old fashioned-ness of getting letters that I could sit down and read with a cup of tea was something I relished. It was the gifts that came along with them I could do without.

I’d message her later to check what time zone they were currently in and see about Facetiming with her and my dad to tell her I’d gotten the box. I learned a long time ago that even if I was shocked and weirded out by the things she sent, I still had to say thank you for thinking of me.

“Hey, Luke, you kill that horrible thing yet? I gotta get to work and you are not allowed to take it out to the coop with you.”

Luke flapped his way to the top of the couch and looked at me like I was crazy. I glanced down, and yep, the toy was still vibrating and dancing away on the cushion, although looking a little worse for the wear of being attacked by my rooster. “Well, good try buddy. You can have another hack at it tonight after I get home from work.”

Hopefully, if I left it alone and running all day long, the mysterious hidden batteries would wear out.I picked Luke up and carried him through the kitchen and out into the backyard. He squirmed his way out of my arms and did his very cocky walk toward the coop where his girls were waiting for him. Princess Laya, Chew-bock-bock, and Kylo Hen came running over to welcome home their man candy.

Those girls followed him all over the place, my newest hen, Kylo, especially. Sadly, Luke didn’t give any of them the time of day. I gave the girls some cuddles. I’d started my little flock with the two pretty silkies, Laya and Chewie. Then splurged later on Luke and Kylo. I wanted a couple more and had my eye on a barnvelder and a Wyandotte. Even had names picked out for them. But would need to upgrade the coop and their open space to do that. “Sorry, my sweet girls. He’s only got eyes for me.”

I’d been warned when I added Luke to our flock that I’d have to be sure to gather the eggs every day so we didn’t get a bunch of fertilized eggs, but, while he was fiercely protective of the girls, as far as I could tell, he was still a virgin chicken.

He didn’t question my decision not to have sex, so I wasn’t going to question his.

Once everyone was fed, their water refilled, and a quick check done for eggs, I promised them some grubs later if they were good. After a quick wash up, a fresh cup of coffee in my Guess What, Chicken Butt travel mug, because the teens at the library thought it was funny, and I was on the way to work.

I had an evaluation today with the branch manager, creepy Karter. I rolled my eyes at myself. He wasn’t that bad. He just always looked at me like I was a piece of pie. I also think I intimidated the hell out of him, so my evals were usually all glowing and not actually useful for being a better and more productive librarian.

Lulu, my ride or die friend from kindergarten to now, was who I went to for that. We went to library school together too, and she worked in programming for the Thornminster library system. She was the only person who would always tell me exactly like it was, and then help me figure out how to fix it so I was better. The best. That was always the goal. Be the best.

It was half of why Chris and I were such good friends. He had a super-achiever streak a mile high and wide. Couldn’t be the quarterback for the Mustangs if he didn’t work his ass off to be the best. He wasn’t bothered by my own perfectionistic tendencies. I loved him for it.

His whole family was highly competitive. They worked hard and they played hard. I’d had more than a crush on all three of the eldest brothers at one point or another. Those football butts. Mmm.

Chris and Everett were the whole reason I had a chicken hobby farm in my backyard in the first place. They said I worked hard but didn’t play enough. Kingman family game nights didn’t count since I couldn’t make it every month.

I needed a hobby or a pet or something. With Laya and Chewie, I got both in one go. I hadn’t been sure my landlord would allow such a thing, but Chris had convinced me there was no risk without reward and pushed me to ask. When the leasing company said yes, half the Kingman clan had come over and helped me build the coop.

Why in the world Chris wanted me to go with him to the opening of Manniway’s was beyond me. It gave me funny flutters in my tummy. I hated the spotlight. There had better not be a bunch of press there. Ugh. Now I had to think about what in the world I was going to wear.

One of my cutesy dresses and cardigans that I wore to work wouldn’t be fancy enough. In my mind, women at events like this wore sparkly, tight dresses and sipped champagne out of long flutes with lipstick on the rim and laughed at jokes about being rich.

I’d definitely watched too many Dynasty re-runs as a kid. But I didn’t own sparkly shit. I owned cute shit, a lot of comfy clothes, and four signed Denver Mustang jerseys, a dozen more Denver State Dragon jerseys, one for each of the Kingman boys on the team.It was a steakhouse, right? Maybe I could wear jeans and a jersey? Yeah, no.

Well, at least I had something to distract me from creepy Karter and his evaluation while I was at work today. I was on the desk for most of the afternoon so that I was available to the teens that hung out there after school. Maybe I could ask Jules, the youngest and only girl in the Kingman clan, to consult on the wardrobe choice. She came to the library almost every day, getting hours in on our summer volunteer program. Although I think she was there just to get out of her testosterone-filled house for a while.

“Hey, Trixie.” Creepy Karter held the door open for me for way too long. I had barely parked and gotten out of my car when he swung it open. Had he been watching for me? See. Creepy.

“Hi, Karter. You don’t have to hold the door, but thanks.” Now I had to hurry-walk up the sidewalk.

---