Full Service (A Pleasure Chest Story) Read online

  “No. That’s not…He’s not—” I swallow my words as I feel him walk up behind me, and Ella just smirks as she heads back to the counter. I turn, squaring my shoulders and preparing to be professional. “It’s good to see you again, sir.” I throw the title in there to see if he’ll react in the same way. He doesn’t, but he smiles wider, and my knees go a little weak.

  “You as well,” he says. “Do you have anything to report to me today?”

  I blush again, because hell yes have I got a report, but I also thought about him the whole time. I clear my throat. “I did,” I say, leading him over to where the toy sits on the shelf. “This toy is really well made. Good materials and a really fun package. The toy itself—” I pause, trying not to choke on my words as I talk about masturbating with a stranger, “fits really well. Though I was skeptical about what it said it would do, it comes through in its design. It’s meant to stimulate the G-spot—which, if you didn’t know, is named after the scientist Dr. Ernst Gräfenberg—and it does just that. So, if that’s the kind of toy you’re looking for, I can now personally recommend this.”

  He raises an eyebrow. “Is that all?”

  “Well…what else would you like?”

  I try to ignore the way his eyes widen at my words, try not to feel the way my body is responding from just the way he’s looking at me. I glance over at the counter, and I don’t see Ella. She must be in the back, so I go over to the counter, feeling the need to have something in between us. He leans his forearms on the counter, placing him at my height. “I want to know how you felt using it. I want to know your experience, not just a technical analysis.”

  I hesitate, confused about why he would want that. I mean, he asked about the toy itself, not about me using it. But then again, half the reason I had the experience I did was because he was in my head. I look back to his face, finding him waiting, no doubt on his face that I’m going to tell him what he wants to know. I swallow. “It was slow at first,” I say. “I was getting used to the patterns. I’d never tried to find my G-spot before, so I wasn’t sure it would work. But it felt really good, and there was a rhythm that drew something out of me.” My mind snaps back to the previous night. “Once I found it, it was like every touch built on the one before, and I couldn’t get enough.”

  My pussy is so wet just remembering how good it was, and I’m worried that my arousal is obvious. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had an internal orgasm,” I say, “and when I came…it was a big one.” I’m flushed and wet, and I stop talking, afraid I’ll get carried and tell him that I imagined him urging me on. “It was really good. Let’s leave it at that.”

  The look on his face is almost indescribable. His eyes have gone dark and hungry, just like I imagined them the night before, and the way he’s looking at me makes me think he wants to jump over this counter and rip my clothes off. Honestly, I kind of wish he would. I take a moment to imagine the way our limbs would tangle together on the floor, skin on skin. He might use the Gigi on me, saying he wants to see me orgasm just the way I described before fucking me into even better orgasms.

  I blink away the images to find him still staring at me.

  “Thank you,” he says.

  “No problem. Oh,” I say, reaching into my pocket, “I have your change.”

  He laughs. “Keep it. You’re going to need it for this.” He hands another toy to me across the counter. The Womanizer. It’s a clit stimulator that everyone is talking about. Along with the box is another hundred-dollar bill. What?

  When I look up, he’s already halfway out of the store. “Wait!” I run after him, catching him by the arm as he reaches the door. “What is this for? Do you want it sent somewhere?”

  “I just want you to do your job, expert.” He winks at me as he pushes his way outside into the sun. I watch him until I can’t see him anymore. This is crazy. I didn’t even get his name. Again. Can I really keep doing this for him? Especially if he won’t tell me what it’s for?

  The logical part of me says that I shouldn’t give in. But the other part of me wants to give it just one more try. Partially because I’ve been wanting to try this toy for a while, and I’d be able to try it for free. It seems like a small price to pay—telling him how I used it. Ella abandons the dildos she’s restocking as I ring up the toy. “Can I have him on a platter please?”

  I smile. “I know. I’m not even sure he’s real.”

  “He’s real all right. Did you see that ass? If I were you I’d get on that as soon as possible.”

  “I don’t even know him,” I say. “He’s just a customer.”

  “Whatever, girl. The way he’s looking at you, he doesn’t want to be just a customer.”

  That thought makes a warm glow go through my chest. She’s not wrong, either. He was looking at me like that. The next time I see him, I swear I’m going to get his name. I can’t fantasize about someone without a name. Okay, fine, I can. But I’d rather know his name. I finish ringing myself up and put the bag in my locker to take home later.

  I don’t bother with dinner when I come home this time. Instead I go straight to the bedroom. I’ve been wanting to try this, and I’ve been wet all day just thinking about it. I opened it on my lunch break to charge it so it’s ready to go now that I’m home. There’s a stupid grin on my face as I take it out of the box, fitting one of the silicon attachments to it. The toy uses suction directly on the clit, and judging from the way it felt on my finger when I tested it…well, I can’t wait.

  I carefully place the toy against my clit before I turn it on, making sure it’s inside the little silicon vacuum. When I turn it on I am not prepared. The pleasure is immediate, like a shot of pure lust directly into my clit. I bump up the intensity, and my breath is suddenly coming in gasps. Pleasure is rolling through me faster than I thought possible. I feel on the verge of orgasm and it’s only been seconds. I knew this toy made people come fast but I didn’t know it would be this fast.

  I bump up the intensity again, and my back arches off the bed as an orgasm explodes through me. My muscles spasm trying to handle the intensity of the sensation, but it doesn’t end. I’m writhing on the bed, at the mercy of a pleasure so fierce I’ve never felt it before. The toy is still sucking at my clit, and before I take a breath, another orgasm crashes in, harder than the first. I feel myself come, heat spiraling through me, focusing on my clit and shattering outward. I swear loudly, feeling wetness splash over my hand and the toy, running down my legs and into the sheets beneath me. It takes me just a second to realize that this is what people mean when they say came so hard that they squirted. Holy shit. That’s never happened before. I don’t think I’ve ever felt anything like this. The toy is still working on my clit, and I can barely think to turn it off. Even after I do I still feel the aftermath of those orgasms. Was it just two? Probably not. It felt like every orgasm I’ve ever had packed into a small space. I’m not sure how long I used that toy, but I think in total it was less than five minutes.

  Holy fuck.

  My breath is fast and I can feel my heart beating in my chest. The Womanizer—ironically—doesn’t mess around.

  It takes me more than a minute to catch my breath and come down from the high. I get up and clean off the toy, still dazed at the power it packed into that orgasm. No wonder everyone is talking about this thing. I came so hard that I have to wash my sheets.

  A thought stops me as I’m slipping into some yoga pants. I wonder if he knew?

  I wonder if he thought about how hard that little toy would get me off, and I wonder if that’s the reason he chose it. The thought of him imagining me come makes me wet again. Maybe later I’ll see if it’s just as powerful the second time around. What if he’s thinking about me right now? Wondering if I’m using the toy, touching himself while he pictures me. I blush even though I’m alone. If he makes me react this way when he’s fully clothed, I can’t even guess how explosive it would be to see him naked.

  What would that toy be like if he
used it on me? I have to stop and take a breath, my pussy weeping with brand new arousal. I imagine him leaning over me, gloriously naked, as he presses the device against my clit. He would start slowly, using the lower settings to tease me until I’m squirming, then clicking up the intensity level after level. He would stroke himself while he watched, getting harder with every sound I made. And when I orgasm he wouldn’t stop, keeping the toy on me even when I say that it’s too much, that I can’t come again. Instead he would click the toy higher, bringing on another orgasm until I’m so blind with pleasure I can’t even remember my name. And he would come with me the last time, his cum mixing with mine on the soaked sheets.

  Dear god. My panties are already wet again.

  If he comes to the store tomorrow, I have to do something. He’s bought me two sex toys that made me come harder than I have in years. I at least want to have coffee with the man. Whatever may or may not happen after coffee…well, I guess I’ll just have to see what happens. And I’d really, really like something to happen.

  But then again, I know nothing about him. Is he even single? I mean, I certainly hope so. If he has a girlfriend, asking someone at a sex shop to try toys for you is kind of weird. Unless of course he’s having me try them so he can buy them for her. That thought rings false to me. I like to think that with the way he was looking at me, he was at least a little interested in me. I push down my unease at all the questions I have, and add whether or not he’s single to the information I have to gather.

  I spend the rest of the evening finishing up my research on The Pleasure Chest’s inventory. I feel much better about my ability to sell the toys when I know more about them. I don’t know them all as intimately as the two currently in my bedroom, but to do that would cost a fortune that I don’t have. Although not every toy is my cup of tea, at least by researching them I can be competent while selling them.

  I stand up and stretch, my shoulders cracking as I reach toward the ceiling. My body feels good—long and open and relaxed. It’s the after effect of really good sex. There’s a smile on my face as I shut my laptop and head towards my bedroom.

  4

  I can’t stop watching the door. The past couple of days he’s come in in the morning. It’s almost noon and so far, there’s been no sign of him. It makes me nervous, even though there’s no reason I should be. I don’t owe him anything. But I find myself wanting to see him again. I want to see the intensity on his face, and that smile that makes me think he’s going to do deliciously naughty things to me when he gets me alone.

  If Ella were here she’d laugh at the number of times I’ve looked up as a customer comes in, only to be disappointed when it’s not him. But Joey is working with me this shift, and he doesn’t notice. Or if he does, he doesn’t say anything.

  I’ve kept myself so busy trying not to think about him that the store is spotless. All the stock we’re meant to put out has been priced and shelved. I’ve dusted displays and checked the alphabetization on the DVD section. I feel amped up despite the fact that I haven’t stopped moving since I came in this morning. There’s actually nothing to do now, and I’m standing at the register when I hear the door open again. I fight against my instinct to look at the door, trying desperately not to. But I lose that fight, and I’m glad I do, because it’s him.

  He looks amazing today in a black button down and slacks, a more professional look than he’s sported the past couple of days. I can’t help the smile that comes to my face as we lock eyes across the room. He smiles too, a little smirk that makes my stomach flip.

  “Hello,” he says as he approaches the counter.

  “Hi,” I say, at a loss for any other words. After obsessing about seeing him for the past few hours, you’d think I’d be able to say something better than ‘hi,’ but that’s all my brain gives me.

  He leans on the counter again, and I feel my breath catch as he nears. “Do you have a report for me?”

  “I do,” I say, laughing. “Is it enough of a report if I say holy fuck that thing is powerful?”

  He laughs, a true, deep laugh that goes all the way to my bones and makes me shiver. There’s something about him, an energy that makes me want to be around him. To understand him. I get the same feeling when I encounter something new that I want to research—an overwhelming and driving curiosity to find out what makes something tick. What makes him tick?

  “I’m glad you enjoyed it,” he says.

  “I think I only used it for a couple of minutes, and I have to do laundry now, if you know what I mean.”

  His eyebrows raise in surprise. “Does that happen often for you?”

  “Never.”

  “Good.” He grins. “I’m glad to know I gave you a new experience.”

  “Even without that I think it would have been a new experience,” I say.

  He leans closer to me, and I lean closer to him. I swear the energy crackling between us is almost visible. “You know,” I say softly, “since I’m doing this for you, I’d really like to know your name.”

  “It’s Jet,” he says, his voice equally soft.

  I smile. Jet. Something to call him when I’m inevitably reliving this exchange and wishing it could go so much further.

  “And yours?” He gestures to the buttons that the employees wear instead of name tags. Mine says Tie-curious. I thought it would be clever to allude to something I’ve never tried.

  “I’m Kara.”

  His hand reaches across the counter and brushes mine. “It’s nice to meet you, Kara.”

  “I feel like we went around these introductions backwards,” I say.

  “But this way was much more fun.”

  I get lost looking at him for a second, and a thousand scenarios run through my head, all of them involving him leaning forward and kissing me until I can’t remember my name. I come back to myself, remembering that yet again I have a stack of his money in my pocket. “Do you want your money back today, Jet?”

  He stands up from the counter. “No.” He strides across the store to the display case full of glass dildos where we first met, pointing to the light pink one with the spirals. “I’d like one of these.”

  I retrieve a new dildo in a box from one of our hidden cabinets, and try to hand it to him. Instead, his hand closes over mine, keeping the box in place. “For you, of course.” The blush on my face must make me look like a tomato. “But also, this.” He takes a card out of his pocket, and there’s a phone number on it. “I would very much like to take you to dinner tonight.”

  Somehow the card with his phone number ends up in my hand, though I don’t remember taking it from him. He asked me out before I even had the chance to ask him to coffee! Through the haze of joy I manage to find my words. “I’d like that.”

  He smiles, and it’s different than his other ones. This one is a little more free, a little more unrestrained. “Good. Be ready by six.”

  “Okay,” I say, biting my lip to keep my ridiculous grin in check.

  When he’s gone, and I turn back to the counter, Joey is gaping at me. He holds up his hand for a high five. “You go girl.”

  I laugh as I give him the high five. “Can you ring this up for me?” I hand him the glass dildo.

  “Experimenting?” he asks.

  “Something like that.”

  I only have a few hours left of my shift, but I know that every one of them is going to be torture now, waiting until I can leave and see him. Jet.

  The name rolls through my mind. Direct, to the point, powerful. It fits everything I know about him so far, and hopefully tonight I’ll get to know a lot more.

  5

  The entirety of my wardrobe is piled on my bed. I have no idea what to wear. What do you wear on a first date with the mysterious man who’s bought you sex toys? The only thing I’ve settled on is my underwear, a black set trimmed with lace that never fails to make me feel sexy. But it seems like the clothes are a different story. I’m more nervous than I thought I would be, and I really want t
o make a good impression.

  Finally, irritated with myself, I dig out the card with his phone number, and send him a text.

  Hi, Jet. It’s Kara. Where are we going tonight? I don’t want to dress wrong.

  I half-heartedly look through the clothes again while I wait for a response. But I don’t have to wait long.

  Absolutely nothing you wear could be wrong.

  Then, a second later.

  But for tonight I suggest a dress.

  A dress. Good. I can deal with that. I send him a quick, Thanks :) before pawing through the pile for something. Finally, I settle on a deep blue dress. It’s one of my favorites, with a very 50s feel to it. The full skirt always makes me want to twirl around, and I like the way the flare of the dress makes my body look. I pick out a pair of nude heels, and I feel so much better now that I have my outfit. But I still don’t know where we’re going. I pick up my phone again.

  I’ll be ready by six. Am I meeting you somewhere?

  I’m halfway through my make-up routine when the phone dings.

  I’m sending a car for you. What’s your address?

  A car? He’s sending a car for me? That’s far fancier than I expected. I just thought I would meet him at whatever restaurant he chose. I send my address to him, finishing my make-up in record time. On nights like this I always manage to be ready early, with nothing to do but lounge around until it’s time to finally leave. The opposite of the stereotype. I fill in the time with more research—fruitless research. I’m googling Jet. But I don’t have his last name yet, and “Hot Guy Jet New York City” doesn’t produce any results. Not ones that I want to look at anyway.