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“I think we should coincide our book club meetings with his schedule. If I was just twenty years younger…” she said, sighing dreamily. “I was such a looker,” she added with a hint of wistfulness.
“You’re still a looker,” I insisted as I passed her mug back to her.
“Oh, you’re a sweetheart,” she said, giving me a warm smile. “I can’t make a move on him, but a little advice from me to you, you should. I’ve never regretted the lovers I’ve taken,” she added. “Only the ones I haven’t. There was this handyman once,” she said, letting out a deep sigh. “Anywho, we love your little shop,” she told me. “You’ve made a bunch of newcustomers. And don’t you worry, honey. We are going to get the word out. Between the lot of us, we know just about everyone in town!”
She patted my hand before walking back to her group.
And all I could think was…This was the worst possible timing for the best possible news.
I had no doubt that these women would be able to make a difference in my cafe’s success. But what good was that now, when there was a, you know, big chance that I was about to be strung up by my toenails and tortured.
Well, I mean, I didn’t know exactly how cartels tortured people.
But I imagined there would be some sort of intolerable pain involved.
Before they eventually dispatched of me.
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Junior getting up and making his way over to me.
“Your eye is twitching,” I said, pressing my lips together to keep a chuckle in.
“Ever hear a bunch of ladies old enough to be your ma or grandma talking about their favorite sex toys?” he asked, looking pained.
“No, but now I have to know. What is the consensus?” I asked.
“They’re torn,” he told me as I started to pour him another coffee.
“Between?”
“The rose,” he said, making me look over. “And the wand one. But only the one that plugs in. It’s more powerful.”
“As a proud owner of the rose, I have to concur that it is worth its weight in gold.”
“Oh, yeah?” he asked, and I couldn’t be certain, but I thought there was a bit of heat in his light eyes.
“Zero to O in less than three minutes,” I told him, passing his cup across the counter.
“How’s it compare to being with an actual person?” he asked.
“Well, you know, that depends.”
“On?”
“On if the guy even eats pussy at all, let alone knows what he’s doing,” I said. And, oh yes, that was heat in his eyes. It was too intoxicating not to keep stoking it. “But if he knows what he’s doing? Nothing compares to person-to-person contact. Don’t you think?”
“How the fuck would I know?” he asked, shaking his head.
“Well, there is a whole market of male masturbatory aides,” I said.
“I wouldn’t know,” he said, shaking his head. “If I want pussy, I go out and find someone to fuck.”
“Yeah, because there’s no risk for you.”
“Risk?” he asked.
“Well, I mean even if it isn’t a great lay, you always get off, right?” I asked, getting a nod from him. “But that’s not always the case for us womenfolk. So you have to weigh your need for human contact with your willingness to take a chance on someone scratching your back but never quite getting the right spot, if you get what I’m saying.”
“That’s fair,” he agreed, nodding. “But for the record, you’re fucking bitch-ass guys if they don’t get you off first.”
