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Toys R Boys

By Anonymous
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There comes a time in every woman’s life where she has to sit herself down and ask: boyfriend or sex toy? Let’s face it, there just isn’t time enough for both of them.

I was thrashing around with this internal debate when an email popped into view inviting me to a sex toy party that night. A hundred new B.O.B.‘s (Battery Operated Boyfriends) at the drop of a credit card, I thought to myself. Count me in. And my girlfriend, Emma, too. There’s no way I’m going alone.

So there we were later, that night. Emma and I standing side by side, staring at a blue front door. “Ready for the AA life?“ I said glancing over at Emma, my hand ready to knock.

Emma rolled her big blue eyes. “Let’s get this over with,“ she said. “Now, you sure this is an all-girls thing?“ She flicked her blonde bangs out of her face.

I was about to answer, “of course,“ when the door opened. A man with salt-and-pepper hair greeted us with smiling open arms.

“Hi-hi-hi,“ I stammered. “We’re here for the sex toy party?“

“Yes! Welcome! Come in!“ he said enthusiastically waving his hand to follow inside.
Emma glowered at me behind his back as we walked into the foyer. “I guess it’s coed,“ I whispered apologetically. “I didn’t actually read the invite.“
We were led into a cozy living room where eight couples sat nestled together, all huggy and giggly. All eyes turned to us, the only single women there. I felt like a stripper working the collection basket at Sunday Mass. I didn’t dare look at Emma.

“We’re just finishing up with the gels and creams,” said a tall woman in baggy clothes indicating to take our seats. She was standing in the middle of the circle of couples, an edible sex candle in her hand. “Toys are next,” she called out.
I nudged Emma. “She meant, boys are next,“ I said with a naughty laugh.
Emma gave me a dirty look. “Get me out of here now and I’ll eat an eight volt and be your rabbit forever.“

“Ah, Em, have some fun,“ I said. “Give it ten minutes.“ She wasn’t convinced.
The tall woman approached us. “Would you like to try some menthol clitoral stimulating cream?“ she chirped dropping a dollop on Emma’s open palm.

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