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“Dare I ask what a Toy Taxi is?” I murmur to Sacha out of the corner of my mouth.
“It’s a giant dildo that you ride home. Kinda like those banana boats on holiday.”
“No fucking way.”
Sacha laughs at my response. “We’re fine, Juniper. I had the Uber wait for us so we’re good this time. Thanks though.”
Back in the Uber, with everything piled around us on the back seat, Sacha happily informs the driver to take us home.
“But I have to get Ade from school,” I protest.
“I know. But here’s what’s going to happen. You are going to go home and play with your new toys. You’re going to try on every single piece of sexy lingerie I just bought you and you’re going to photograph every single piece and send it to me.” The driver swears under his breath and the car swerves. Sacha continues without batting an eye, as if she didn’t just almost cause us to crash. “Then you’re going to pour yourself a big drink and take a nice long hot bubble bath. Once you’re done, dress in your favorite new bra and panties and start to play with that box of goodies. You will text me which are your favorites and which give you the best orgasm of your life. I’m expecting power outages and shattered windows at the very least. I’m going to take this Uber to the school, pick up Ade and take her to my place for a sleepover. You’re welcome.”
I wasn’t going to say thank you. My mouth opens and closes like a fish and I stare at her too dumbfounded to reply. I can’t send my kid off for the night so that I can...do stuff.
I shake my head.
“Not a word of protest or I’ll invite the guys over to watch.”
I snap my mouth shut and die a little inside. I’m so embarrassed that the driver has had to listen to all this. I’m even more embarrassed that I’m going to have to do exactly as she says because I know she’ll be hounding me for photos and calling me if I don’t. I absolutely believe that she would send Quilo, Whit and Yas over too.
“Atta girl. Have fun!” She grins at me and kicks me to the curb when the Uber pulls up outside my apartment. Struggling under the weight of the bulky box with all the bags in my hand, I make it up to my flat. I drop the box once, in front of my neighbor, and the entire thing buzzes to life. I quickly unlock my door, kick the bloody thing inside and bolt for safety, slamming the door shut behind me.
Sacha said photos first, drink later, but if she’s expecting a sexy fashion show, I need to start with a drink. If she expects me to even open that cardboard box of horrors, I’m going to need a whole bottle.
* * *
Several hours later, I’m a drunk, exhausted, sweaty mess and I need a shower. A cold one. I’ve run out of batteries and every electrical outlet in my house is now recharging my newest obsessions.
Holy crap how does anyone ever get any work done? Stay at home and orgasm day should be a national holiday. At least once a week.
I grab my phone and manage to rattle off a message to Sacha.
Me: Holy fuck what have I been missing out on all this time?
Her reply is immediate.
Sacha: Welcome to the real world. Sex is even better.
No way. It can’t be…Can it?
