Page 1 of Shameless Play

ONE

Clitland is right here!

BLAIR

“Ipromise this vibrator will curl your toes.” I hold the red sex toy like a trophy for the couple. Like I’m a gameshow hostess offering them a grand prize. “And it’s shaped like a rose, so it’s the perfect gift for you tonight, for Valentine’s.”

“Really?”

The customer reveres the toy in my hand as if I’m giving her a million orgasms and not dollars.

And hopefully… I am.

I crush my day job working in an adult store. I can read another person’s kink like a smutty novel.

Chapter One: The sweet wife is into this. She needs sex toys like her next breath. She’s desperate. She’s frustrated. Her clit’s so lonely, she doesn’t come,she cries.

Chapter Two: The preppy husband’s ego is way bigger than his selfish dick. He’s uptight. His navy corduroy pants chafe his thighs and my patience.

Chapter Three: Deep down, like every human with a heartbeat, they’re curious. Their eyes consider the sex toy in my hand before their gaze nervously darts across the store to see if another customer is watching us.

Like I’m selling illegal drugs and not orgasms.

But they’re the only customers tonight, and I can feel this woman’s desperation in my soul. It matches mine. Not for sex, for other reasons, but still, I know what it’s like to want something so bad your heart hurts. So I want her to be happy.

The husband scoffs, putting his nose in the air, “What if it doesn’t work?”

Say what?

This man dares to question my sexpertise?

Who in the pussy-hell does he think he is?

I softly grin, my eyes scanning him like a laser. He’s almost forty. His wife looks the same. But clearly, Corduroy Cunt Killer here is an amateur because me and the entire state of South Carolina can read his frustrated wife’s face.

He’s clueless because, like The Spice Girls, I can tell you what shereally, really wants. Hell, I’m tempted to sing the song and twerk it in his face until he gets the message — your wifereally, reallywants to get with that ten-inch realistic-looking dildo on the shelf. I saw her eyes admiring it earlier as if it’s the promised land for her pussy. Shereally, reallywants that satisfying clitoral vibrator that feels like a starving animal eating her pussy, too.

Hell, what woman doesn’t?

But when I suggested it, her husband saidthatvibratorwas too expensive. The frugal fucker. Who puts a price on pleasure? He does because clearly, Mr. Stingy Dick hasn’t found his wife’s clit yet.

I swear, sometimes, we should also sell those bright red wand lights they use at airports. Like some women need them to get their partners to land a tongue, or a dick, or a finger, or whatever it is home to their clit. It’s like, “Come in hot for the landing, folks. Clitland is right here!”

But no, I’m a professional. I sell sex toys. It’s literally my job to also make assholes happy.

Delta’s is an upscale adult store specializing in the ultimate customer experience. As staff, we’re all knowledgeable, experienced, and discreet. The owner and her men will even give you a private demonstration of our products or let you test them yourself if you make it into our exclusive club on the third floor.

“I promise it’ll work,” I assure the man, using my 100% orgasmic satisfaction-guaranteed smile. “If you aren’t thrilled with your purchase, we will gladly offer a store credit.”

“Let’s just try it, honey.” The woman gently tugs at her husband’s plaid sleeve. “I’m sure it’ll work.”

But he doesn’t look sold. He’s actually scowling at a sex toy.

Oh, and now I see.

He’s one of those.

We get these pussy-emergencies in the store at least once a day — men who think their dicks are wizards. Toys and kink threaten them.

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