Fascinations

Every woman should have one.  Every woman.  Married or single, playing the field or celibate, straight, gay, bi - it doesn't matter.  They all should have one, or even two or three, depending on one's preferences.  Women who say they don't need one, that they're doing just fine with their fingers, the shower nozzle, or that back massager from Brookstone (come on, ladies, who do you think you're fooling;) they have no idea what they're missing.  And those women who say they don't need one period, that they don't engage in the activity the object in question is designed for?  Well, those women are lying, and probably need one more than the rest of us less repressed gals.

Vibrators.  They're very important.

And I had been without for a while.  I still had one, it was just 30 miles away at my ex's, and had been an item on my list of "things to pick up" for a while.  But amazingly enough, masturbation wasn't in the foreground of my thoughts during my bi-weekly trips to retrieve more of my possessions from my previous residence, and it was never until later, when I was home and idle that I remembered the little wand tucked away in a box underneath my ex-bed.

I decided I should just go buy a new one.  I deserve it, and there's some symbolism in buying new sex toys that I found appropriate and appealing.  So off to Fascinations I went.

Walking into Fascinations is exciting even if you're not there to buy yourself something fun.  There's a certain awkward flushedness that hums in the air, probably from all the people who walk through the aisles and blush at the presence of so many falices.  The employees are cheerful, and behave just as they're supposed to, as if there's nothing the least bit out of the ordinary in shopping for orgasms.

There were two of them (employees) that evening.  One was a young woman of about my own age, with falsely dark hair and a large bits of metal piercing her skin.  She had a big smile, and greeted me with a bright "Hello!" before turning back to her register.  The other was a slight, dark young man with glasses who grinned at me before making his way from behind the counter to my side.

"Can I help you find anything?" he asked, absently pushing his thick frames up his nose.  His voice was soft and sweet, and full of the gentleness people employ when dealing with someone who is clearly out of their element, and perhaps slightly uncomfortable. 

"No thank you," I said, a little too hastily.  There was a slight heat in my cheeks, and a embarrassed smile appeared on my lips as he nodded and walked away.

"Just let us know if you need anything," he called over his shoulder.

Fascinations isn't really very big, and it was only a couple of bemused steps before I turned a corner and came to a full and sudden stop.  I was rocked back to my heels by the display before me.  Bunny rabbits and butterflies, torpedoes and bullets, penises in every size and color...  There were g-spot hooks and clitoral simulators, dildos made from glass, ceramic, and stainless steel.  Some were brightly decorated with glitter or sparkles, and some lit up.

They all vibrated.

Many of them I dismissed immediately, allowing my eyes to flit past them as soon as I took in the labeling (the ones that lit up fall into this category.)  I similarly ignored any that appeared, by their size or shape, to be novelties.  I took a few moments to think about my personal (ahem) preferences before I selected a non-assuming toy of middling price and carried it with me to the register.

"Is this it for you?" The young woman smiled at me as she took the box from my hands and scanned it.

"That's it," I answered.  I was thoroughly entertained by the circumstances and I smiled back at her, laughing as I added "that's going to be plenty for tonight."  She giggled with me, and our sounds attracted the young man's attention.  His gaze found the pink box the she was handing back to me.

"Ooh!" he exclaimed, as he looked approvingly at me and nodded.  "That's one of my favorites!" 

The girl dissolved in a fresh fit of laughter, and I stared at the young man while I tried to figure out what to say in response.  I considered saying thank you (and I considered asking him to elaborate,) but finally just smiled back.  "Good to know, man."  I tucked the box into my backpack along with my receipt and wallet, and headed out the door.