“Fun?” I felt like I didn’t even know her.

  She walked over and wrapped her arms around my neck. “It will be, I promise.” With that she kissed me.

  “I’m not so sure about this.”

  “Don’t be a baby.”

  “Why do I have to go? You’re the one who wants this stuff.”

  “Because they have to measure you, silly.”

  The glint in her eye had me wary. “Measure me?” I thought about that for a moment. “There?”

  “No, you idiot, your hips and thighs.” She turned and poured a cup of coffee; then, holding out the pot to me as if everything were perfectly normal, she asked, “Want some more?”

  “No. Yes. Fuck.” I looked at her closely for some hint, some idea as to what I had been doing wrong. “I thought we were okay in that department?”

  She poured the coffee and looked up. “You know we are.”

  “I mean, we have sex at least twice a week, sometimes three, right?”

  “It’s not about that.”

  “I only fell asleep last week because I was exhausted, I swear.”

  “Honey, it’s not about you falling asleep.”

  I started to sweat, trickles of moisture forming on my upper lip and around my hairline. “I thought, you know, that you enjoyed our sex life.” Had she been faking it all this time?

  Abby walked closer and cupped my jaw. “Honey, I do. We have a great sex life. This is just a little experiment, something to spice it up, that’s all.”

  “Now? At our age?”

  “We’re not dead, you know, and I’ve been thinking about it for a while.”

  My insides were churning full blast now. “A while?”

  “Remember a couple months ago when we had that problem with dryness?”

  I thought back, then nodded. “You called the doctor, right?”

  “Yes, but I also talked to Mary.”

  I groaned out loud.

  “Stop it. We’re all adults, and she and I are the same age, so it was perfectly natural to ask her.”

  I put my head in my hands, knowing I wouldn’t like the rest of this conversation. “And?”

  “And she had the same problem. Vic got her some lubricants.”

  I sat up straighter, immediately feeling better. “We did, too.”

  “Exactly, but did you know there are many kinds of lubricants? Some even flavored, for…you know. So we discussed that and other stuff.”

  “Fuck.” I looked at her pleadingly.

  “Stop it.”

  “Please tell me you did not discuss our sex life, I’m begging you.”

  “Grow up.”

  I put my head in my arms on the ceramic countertop where I was sitting. The day had started so nicely. I woke early, did the treadmill for an hour. I had an idea for a story I was excited about. With my laptop set up, I was working at the kitchen counter while the coffee perked and the dogs were outside napping. I even asked Abby to give me quiet time to write, and she had agreed, as usual, but not ten minutes she later came into the kitchen and made her announcement. And now this.

  I took a deep breath. “And?”

  “Well, when Mary and I talked, she told me that she and Vicky, they have one.”

  “Oh, fuck, you did not just tell me that.” I rubbed my eyes desperately trying to erase that image of my best friend, with a strap-on, from my brain. “Why do you insist on telling me shit like this, why?”

  “What is the big deal? It’s perfectly normal.”

  I took a deep breath and twisted my neck from side to side, still trying to purge the image she had burned into my retinas. “Normal, absolutely, but I do not ever want to think of my two best friends like that. Is that okay with you?”

  “Why?”

  “Because they’re my friends, damn it.”

  “Don’t be such a child.” She rubbed my hand and grinned. “You can’t get the image out of your mind, can you?”

  I groaned out loud. She was right. “No, and I’m blaming you.”

  She started laughing, then stopped abruptly. She must have realized I was not finding this at all funny. “Okay, so it’s a little embarrassing, but they’re our friends.”

  “Tell me now, before I ever see Vicky again, did you tell Mary you want to do this?”

  “No, of course not.”

  “You swear?”

  “I swear.” She crossed her heart. I almost believed her.

  “I do not want another incident like when Mary told me about Vic wearing a damn nightgown.”

  Abby knew I still had trouble looking my best friend in the eye ever since her wife had revealed that little tidbit. Vic, a butch’s butch if ever there was one, wore a pink-flowered, flannel nightgown. “Fuck, now I’m picturing her in the damn nightgown with a friggin strap-on underneath.”

  “Don’t be silly.”

  “I’m not.”

  “So anyway, I’ve been thinking about it and decided our trip to P-town provides the perfect time for us to get equipped.”

  “Equipped?”

  “Supplies.”

  I ran my hands through my hair. The world had gone mad, nothing was making any sense. “You’re going with me. Why do I have to go in there alone?”

  “Remember the Sears incident?”

  I cringed. Years ago we had been shopping in Sears for Christmas presents. Abby found a robe she thought her mom would like and asked me to try it on to see if the length was okay since her mom and I had similar builds. There I was, dressed in my jeans, motorcycle boots, and a leather jacket. It was a simple, stupid cotton garment with lace around the collar. Once I had it on, Abby started laughing and wouldn’t stop. She swore she had images of what our future held. The angrier I got, the more she laughed; the more she laughed, the more she alerted our fellow shoppers, who then started staring and laughing as well. I tore the damn thing off and never helped her again for fear of that kind of humiliation.

  “I ordered everything from the catalogue. All you have to do is let them make sure the harness is the right size, and then you can pay for it all and leave. Simple.”

  Abby stood there angelically smiling. I was sure I was missing something. “You already ordered what you want, right?”

  “Yup.”

  “All I have to do is check on the size of the harness, right?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Ten minutes tops?”

  “Less.”

  “What if someone I know is in the store?”

  “Say hi.”

  I shook my head. “You know what I mean. How am I going to explain why I’m there?”

  “What do you think they would be doing there?”

  I covered my ears. “Fuck, I do not want to think about that.”

  “Stop being ridiculous. I think it’s wonderful people our age are willing to experiment.”

  “Why exactly are we experimenting again?”

  “Because I don’t want you bored.”

  “Please tell me what’s really going on here?”

  Abby leaned in close and kissed me. “I don’t want you trading me in for three twenties.”

  Each time she hit another milestone in age, she decided I would trade her in for X number of younger women. At thirty, it was two fifteen-year-olds. I pointed out that would be jailbait. At forty, it was two twenty-year-olds; I asked what the hell I would do with them. At fifty, she announced two twenty-five year-olds, because I was older and needed to slow down. Now at sixty, this.

  “I love you, I can barely keep up with you. Have you talked to a twenty-year-old of late? I don’t even understand their language.”

  “It’s not you having a conversation with them I’m worried about.”

  “Abbs, I’ve never given you reason to worry, have I?”

  She kissed me again. “And I intend to make sure you want to come home to me and only me.”

  “Now who’s being childish?”

  “Please, it’s important to me.”

  I sighed, knowing I had lost this battle many, many minutes ago. “Quick in and out, right?”

  “I promise.”

  “Let’s get going, you have a one o’clock appointment with Cheryl.”

  “Cheryl?” I was towel-drying my hair after my shower.

  “The store, Wild Hearts.”

  I glanced in the mirror, catching her eyes. “I need an appointment to shop?”

  “Well, it’s their personalized service. I thought you would like that.”

  “Oh. Okay.” I folded the towel and put it on the tub, then grabbed my T-shirt and pulled it on.

  “Make sure you wear boxers today.”

  “Huh?”

  “Just do it.”

  “Why?”

  Abby was applying mascara; she looked in the mirror at me. “So I don’t have to worry about you.”

  I walked toward her, my jeans in one hand, naked from the waist down. “I thought you liked it when I went commando.”

  “Not today.”

  She had been in a funny mood ever since we arrived in P-town. This morning after breakfast, instead of us sightseeing, she had wanted to come back here and make love. I was up for that but she still seemed edgy, even afterward.

  “Okay, boxers it is.”

  Abby leaned over, grabbed a pair out of the duffle bag and handed them to me.

  “You’re lucky I packed some.”

  “No. You are, or you’d be wearing a pair of my panties.”

  “Like hell.”

  She just giggled and returned to putting on her makeup.

  Once I was dressed, she turned to me. “You look nice.”

  I looked down and frowned. I was only wearing jeans and that T-shirt. “Thanks?”

  “I just wanted to tell you.”

  I put my arms around her and kissed her. “I love you, with all my heart. Thank you.”

  “Come on, I want to get a seat at the bar.”

  I glanced at the alarm clock on the nightstand. “It’s only twelve thirty.”

  “I know, but you know I like sitting where I can see the TV. I want to get there before it fills up.”

  Abby was a sports nut. She always wanted to be in front of the big-screen TV so she could watch the latest action, no matter what the sport. “I’m ready.”

  As I held the door for Abbs outside the restaurant, she practically squealed. “Oh, look! Two seats right up front. Excellent.”

  We walked directly to the bar and ordered drinks. Abby asked for a draft, while I got a Coke. I was doing a reading at Gabriel’s at the Ashbrooke Inn later that evening and didn’t want to screw it up by being tipsy or, worse, drunk. I glanced at the menu. “Want to get something? I’m kinda hungry.”

  “Eat when you get back. You can’t be late.”

  “Jesus, why not? Won’t our money be just as good if I’m late, say twenty minutes or so?”

  “You can wait and be back here in the same twenty minutes.”

  “I thought you said quick in and out.”

  “I’m giving you time to walk across the street and back again…you are getting older.”

  I love Abby with all my heart, but something had the hairs on my neck on end. “You ordered everything, right?”

  “Yup.”

  “I don’t have to ask for anything special, right?”

  “Absolutely. Just let them determine the right size harness and you’re out of there.”

  I couldn’t find any hidden meaning or problem in her words, so I nodded. “Okay. Keep the chair warm for me.”

  She leaned over and kissed my cheek. “You’re my shero.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” I took a deep breath and headed to Wild Hearts.

  Outside the store, I took another deep breath and sent up a prayer that no one I knew would be inside. I pushed through the entrance and gasped. Dildos lined the walls, dildos in all shapes, sizes and colors. On the top shelf, a sign announced, Vibrators Optional. Another sign declared Just right for the G-spot. Some were remote control, some even glowed in the dark. I didn’t know where to look, and everywhere I turned my head, I was barraged with other sex toys—instruments of lust in all shapes, sizes and, lord help me, for all purposes.

  “May I help you?”

  I turned to find a child/woman standing before me. “What are you, ten?”

  She grinned. “I’m actually twenty-two. Is there something I can help you with?”

  “Appointment…I mean, I have an appointment.”

  “Do you know with whom?” She said the words slowly as if I wouldn’t comprehend.

  “Yes.” I nodded my head.

  She smiled at me knowingly. “Do you know her name?”

  I nodded again. I did know. “Cheryl. It’s Cheryl.”

  “Good. I’ll get her for you. Don’t go anywhere.”

  I shoved my hands in my pockets and tried not to stare at things. I just knew someone I knew was going to find me in here.

  “Hello, I’m Cheryl, can I help you?”

  Another child stood before me. This one appeared even younger. “Are you Cheryl?”

  “I thought we had established that. Yes, I am.” She held out her hand.

  “I have an appointment.”

  “And you are?”

  I took a ragged breath. “Your one o’clock appointment.”

  “It’s your first time isn’t it?” She took my arm and pulled me toward a counter in the front of the store. Once there she opened an appointment book and looked down. “You’re Ms. Michaels then?”

  “Dani. Dani Michaels.”

  “See, that wasn’t so hard.”

  I tried to relax, but it was useless. “My wife, she told me you have everything ready, just need to be sure of the size of the belt, right?”

  “Belt?”

  I felt my cheeks turning red, starting to burn. “Harness, I meant harness.”

  Cheryl grinned. “Yes. Let’s go into the dressing room. That way we can have some privacy.”

  “Privacy?”

  She was walking in front of me toward the back of the store. “Well, I can’t very well measure you over your jeans.” We had just passed an entire display case of edible clothing—bras, panties, nipple covers. I averted my eyes quickly, hoping to avoid discovering anything else. No such luck. Before me stood a rack of ladies’ underthings: corsets, lace bras, nippleless bras, satin and lace camisoles and garter sets and on and on it went.

  “Right in here. Please take you pants off.”

  It was futile. I had turned beet red, I just knew it. This girl had to be a teenager, and she was telling me to take my pants off. I had to be breaking some law.

  “Uh, I could do the measurements and just call them out to you.”

  “Don’t be shy, I do this all the time.” With that she sat in the chair staring at me.

  I knew my fate had been cast. I unbuckled my belt and opened the button, then slid the zipper downward and stepped out of my jeans. In the mirror I caught a glance at myself and wanted the floor to open up. I was wearing my Sponge-Bob boxers. I was going to kill Abby when I saw her.

  “Yes, I can see why your wife was concerned. You do have big thighs.”

  “Does this mean you can’t fit me?” I surged with hope.

  “Not at all. I just need to get a different size, then I’ll bring your purchases in and go over them with you. I’ll be just a moment.”

  Cheryl stepped out of the room, so I grabbed my jeans and slipped them on. I’d be damned if we were going to discuss anything with me undressed.

  I was just buckling my belt when she stepped back in.

  Cheryl looked at me. “Is something wrong?”

  “No.”

  “Why did you get dressed?”

  “You said you knew the size I needed.”

  Cheryl held up the item in question. “I need to see it on you, show you how to use it, load it. Make sure it’s tight enough to hold, but loose enough for comfort.”

  “Oh.” I undid my belt; Sponge-Bob would make another appearance.

  “I’d like to suggest a larger size in jeans from now on.”

  “What? Why?”

  “You need to allow room for the harness and accessory.”

  “Huh?”

  “Well, I assumed you’d be wearing it on dates and such, or on special occasions.”

  “I don’t date. I’m married.”

  “I meant when you and your wife go out.”

  “In public, you mean?” The room was definitely getting hotter.

  “If you went up a size in your jeans, no one would know but you and your lady.”

  “In public?”

  She looked at me pityingly. “Lots of butches do.”

  Cheryl turned and started unpacking a shopping bag the size of a small minivan. What the fuck had Abby purchased?

  “The three various attachments your wife picked out all work lovely with this belt. As I told her, leather is the way to go. Much sturdier and so many options.” Cheryl glanced up and smiled.

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Now this particular one is a favorite of mine.”

  Cheryl removed from the bag what looked like a penis with a long handle attached. What would…how would… Holy crap, that is not a handle.

  “Your wife was very excited that we had it in stock.” Cheryl held up the dual dildo. “This is our best seller. It’s called the Nexus. As you can see, the two of you will simultaneously receive enjoyment from this model.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Here, let’s get the harness on you first, then I can show you how to load it.”

  “What?”

  “I want to be sure it fits properly. Then we can experiment with the various attachments.”

  The room was getting warmer and smaller all at once. “Fine.”

  As Cheryl painstakingly fit the harness over my boxers, she continued her lesson. “Your wife was such a joy to talk to. She had done her research and knew exactly what she was looking for. We spoke on the phone for over an hour. ”

  “I’ll bet.”

  “Seriously, you’d be surprised how many women have no idea, and then I have to show and explain all the options.” Cheryl tugged on the now-secured harness. “I think that’s got it for you. How does it feel?”

  “I’m not sure how to answer that.”

  “It’s got to be tight enough to sustain the thrusting motion, but not so tight as to cause chafing or sores.”