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Now, however, older and single me had a savings account set up specifically for unplanned illnesses, unexpected car wrecks, or uninhibited sexual extravaganzas south of the border.
Hey, I’d gone many months without any nookie and I’d seen the videos of what happens to naïve white chicks in Mexico. No, not the scary “what happened to Sally” kind of videos, but the YouTube “oops I shouldn’t have gotten that drunk” kind of videos.
Sign me up please and make mine a double! Holla!
“Ben, you’re a genius,” I said as I pulled into the parking lot and parked super far from the doors.
Ben just looked at me and cocked an eyebrow.
“Can I ask what you’re doing?” he asked.
“What do you mean?” I replied.
“I mean why are you parked in fucking Bosnia when there are plenty of parking spots right up there next to the mall?”
“Because we, my love, are going to Cancun and WE both need to walk off a few pounds first.”
Ben, who had jet black hair combed very nicely to the side and had just a slight second chin, leaned back in his seat, putting extra emphasis on the doppelganger pudge. He was a super cute guy with an award-winning attitude.
I’m talking Golden Globes, not an Oscar, as he does get quite bitchy from time to time.
“Touché,” he said with a roll of his eyes.
I’d planned the trip to the mall to pick up a few fruity lotions and a cell phone charger. Suddenly I was on the lookout for a new bathing suit, something that would hide the chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream I’d grown so fond of lately but would still allow for some serious cleavage.
I had to make a quick pit stop at Spencer’s Gifts to see what my fellow had been up to lately. I hadn’t entered the store since my crazy carnival adventure with Braden. Visiting the place hadn’t even dawned on me until one night when Susie mentioned stopping by the store to pick up some sex game dice. Then I remembered my guy, not sure why I keep referring to him as mine, wrote some of the questions in the store’s sex games.
Ben didn’t mind the interruption. He said he needed to pick up something for a play date he had with an ex-boyfriend. I couldn’t wait to see what kind of toys he had in mind. Turns out, he had a vibrating cock ring, furry purple handcuffs, and a rather large string of fluorescent anal beads in mind.
I was busy reading the back of one of the sex games boxes while he filled his arms with knickknacks. Why the back of the box? For the sample questions of course.
“What’s your favorite position?” the box asked.
Easy…riding, or do they call that cowgirl now? I’ve heard the term reverse cowgirl so does that mean spun around in the correct direction means regular ol’ cowgirl?
I had to wonder if the term upset real “honest to God” cowgirls. Here they were, trying to hang with the guys: roping cattle, riding broncs, throwing hay, and whatever else cow folk do, and people went and named a sexual position after them. That’s kind of messed up.
As I really contemplated the question, I had to rethink my favorite position too. I’d never been a big fan of doggy style but when Braden had me bent over in the Ferris wheel at the ride’s highest point…that was hot.
Can I be as specific as to say that my favorite position, at this point in time, is being bent over doggy style on a Ferris wheel? I wonder how many others would say that!
“Would you rather give oral sex or receive oral sex?”
Duh, do I really need to answer that? Receive of course.
“Have you ever had sex in a public place?”
Yes, I have.
That’s when I realized I was looking at Braden’s work. He’d said that was one of his favorite questions in the game. And because of him I could now say yes to that question.
I considered buying the game just to see what other creative shit the guy was able to come up with, but what would be the point? I’d just waste money and wouldn’t have anyone to play with anyway.
I turned to see Ben with all his trinkets. I picked up the box with the anal beads and shook it, hearing the beads rattle against the cardboard. I wondered who made this stuff and of what quality it was.
What if the string breaks off in your butt? And you have to dig on up in there and…eww. Or even worse if you can’t get it out and you have to go to the emergency room…that would suck.
“Damn, babe, who are you meeting later? Jigsaw?”
