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We eat outside in the shelter of a large wooden pergola. It’s covered with bright bougainvillea that’s a riot of color in the stark modern surroundings. Russell’s platters of succulent barbecued meat really hit the spot, and Oliver created two salads that even the most committed carnivores in the group can’t stop groaning about.
I find it interesting that they left me a space at the head of the table. Interesting and unexpected. From a body language point of view, the most dominant in the group is expected to sit at the head, and the fact that none of them took that spot is fascinating. Maybe it’s because I’m running the focus of the week, or maybe they didn’t want to step on the toes of the other men.
For the first time since Kirsty told me about this assignment, I’m finding something interesting in the process of discovery.
Just as I take my final mouthful, conscious that holding my belly tight is now going to be impossible, the doorbell rings.
“I’ll get it,” Tom offers, not waiting for me or anyone else to contradict him.
He’s back in a minute, holding a large cardboard box.
“It’s for you.” Approaching, he lowers it to the floor next to me.
He kindly wipes his steak knife on a paper towel and slices the packing tape, leaving me topriseopen the cardboard flaps. Inside is a receipt with a message.
Dear Allie, here’s a fun activity for you to do with the men in the group. Enjoy. Kirsty.
A fun activity. It sounds innocuous enough. It’s not until I pull the first package out from inside the box that I realize this activity is far from innocent.
“Make your own dildo,” Gabe reads from beside me.
“What?” Clay asks from further down the table. The buzz of conversation from the rest of the group quietens.
“It’s a ‘Make your own dildo’ kit,” Gabe repeats.
“There are ten of them,” Tom adds, after digging around in the box.
“Are you serious?” Theron sounds as though he can’t believe anyone in their right mind would want to do such a thing.
“You’re used to making things with your hands,” Jimmy tells him. “This should be right up your alley.”
“How is there any comparison between building houses and making dildos?” Theron rolls his eyes and uses his right hand to crack the knuckles on his left hand as though he’s preparing himself for a fight, or maybe for the task of dildo making. Who knows!
“Hang on a minute.” Clay pushes his chair back and squats next to the box. His long wavy hair has curled in the heat, and it flops over his eyes. He picks up a kit and stands, shaking it in his hand. “I saw a TikTok about this. It’s a molding kit.”
“What do you mean?” Theron leans forward to get a better look.
“I mean, we’re making dildos in the shape of our cocks.” His mischievous smile is accompanied by an endearing flash of his dimples.
Theron and Gabe both throw their hands in the air, reminding me of the body language of the mobsters in The Sopranos. “There’s no way I’m dipping my dick into a mold. What happens if it gets stuck?” Theron’s face twists into a grimace.
“I’m sure they product tested that possibility out before they launched,” Clay says.
“So you’re happy to dip your dick into that thing?” Gabe’s usually easy expression is twisted with uncertainty.
“I’m guessing the purpose of this exercise is that Allie will get to see our dimensions without having to ask us to drop our pants.” Oliver arches a brow and rubs his chin, rustling his beard hair as he considers what he just said. “It’s clever.”
“If she wants to see my dick, all she has to do is ask. I’m not shy.” Theron stands and my hands fly up, palms facing him.
“Down boy. The only sausage I’m happy to see at this table is the barbecued kind.”
A ripple of laughter spreads through the group and I begin to scan the back of one of the boxes, trying to gauge what’s expected of everyone. “It sounds easy,” I confirm. “Is there a brave soul in this group who’s prepared to go first?”
“I’ll do it,” Carson says. “I need a point to keep me in the running!”
“The running for what?” I ask, unable to suppress my curiosity any further.
He taps the side of his nose. “That would be telling.” He stands and takes the box from Clay. “I’ll be back.” Disappearing into the house, he takes the stairs two at a time in his haste. At least someone’s interested in completing the task. I’m more than interested to review the results. Kirsty might be annoying, but this is a clever idea.
