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“She’s also really good at putting together charity events if you ever need any help,” Gracie added.
“And don’t feel weird about asking,” Willa said, seeming to read my mind. “Success in any endeavor is fifty percent skill and hard work and fifty percent about your connections. Never shy away from reaching out to them,” she instructed.
“I actually do have something I am working on. I will definitely ask your opinion on things as I get the plans back on track.”
“What do you have there?” Sully asked, making us all look at him, then follow his gaze to find him giving that easy smile of his to quiet Luna.
“Probably monster smut,” Vi said, shrugging.
“It’s not,” she said, but the guilty look on her face made me think that her e-reader was likely jam-packed full of it.
“Nothing wrong with some smut,” Sully said, shrugging.
“Speaking of smutty things,” Layna declared, dropping down on the arm of the couch that Vi and Sully were sitting on, her long legs pulling up to put her feet on the cushion right beside Sully. “Did you see this new trend going around with those fruit roll things?” she asked.
“No,” Gracie said, brows pinching. “What are they doing with it?”
“Well, girls are taking them, unrolling them, then wrapping them around a guy’s cock before going down on them.”
“No way,” Gracie said, smile big, if a little disbelieving.
“Hand to God, that’s what they’re doing.”
“If you girls have any friends who are looking to try out this innovative new method…” Sully said, smile charming.
Layna gave him a wink, but looked back toward the rest of us.
“I mean, that sounds like it is just begging for a UTI,” Vi said.
“Yeah, I mean, it seems like this is a blow-job only sort of task.”
“Kinda one-sided, though,” Sully said. “Don’t we get to have some fruit-flavored fun?”
“Oh, God. This is where Billie would have my head if I didn’t inform you that there are, in fact, ultra-thin latex panties specifically made for oral sex on a woman,” Gracie said, looking pink in the cheeks, likely because of Sully’s presence, not ours. “And they have a vanilla-flavored one. I imagine more will be coming.”
“Why, though?” Layna asked, shaking her head.
“Because oral contact to bodily fluids can transmit disease too. It’s not just actual sex. So some people choose to protect themselves and their partners.”
“Interesting,” Layna decided.
“Billie would be proud of you,” Vi added.
“Billie…” I said, waiting for someone to fill me in. There were just so many names.
“You’ll probably hear her referred to as a ‘hippie sex goddess,’ or the girl with the ‘pussy earrings,’ or through many-a-tale from poor Hope about groups of bare-ass yoga and full moon circles and shit like that,” Layna informed me.
“But she’s married to Rowe now. And popping out kids. So she needs us to inform everyone about the latest and greatest in sex technology,” Vi said with a smile.
“Any particular reason for that?” I asked.
“Well, so… Billie’s mom is Peyton who is a librarian, but she is sister to this woman named Autumn who runs Phallus-opy,” Gracie said.
“The sex store?” I asked, then inwardly cringed, wondering if I was showing my hand there. Me and my sad, missing vibrator.
“The one with the giant cock statue inside,” Layna said.
That was the one.
Sometimes, they put a hat or a tie on him. You know… seasonal ones. Even a wreath at Christmas.
“So Billie half grew up in that sex store. And then as an adult she started teaching tantric sex workshops and stuff like that,” Gracie said. “Oh, that must be Kit and Ariah,” she said as we heard doors slamming out front.
Not two minutes later, the doors were opening, and in walked two women who were the closest things to celebrities that I’d ever seen. The crazy thing, too, was that they kind of looked like famous people.
Both were tall, but the woman I took for Kit was a little willowy where Ariah had more hips, thighs, and boobs. They were equally gorgeous, just in completely different ways.
Kit, the lilac-haired beauty was very pale with sharp features and gorgeous blue eyes. She dressed somewhat gothic in style in her long black velvet skirt with deep blood-red roses on it, and a shirt that was such a dark red it was almost black.
Ariah, on the other hand, had a sort of classic, timeless style. It was the look you saw in high-end fashion magazines or in shows about the ultra-wealthy at their country clubs. She had on high-waisted camel-colored slacks that she paired with an understated white shirt and small gold hoops at her ears.
She had darker skin with an oval face dominated by gorgeous golden-brown eyes. Her long black hair was pulled into thick twists that she had secured back with a single strip of leather that matched the color of her slacks.
