‘Did you go into a sex shop on your own?’ Alice asked, slightly unnerved by an image of petite Sally unchaperoned amongst stacks of gadgets and racks of hardcore.
‘Mail order,’ Sally giggled.
‘Of course, Saul and I have absolutely no need for gizmos on account of his stupendous natural equipment and our exceptionally resourceful technique,’ Thea began primly. ‘But actually,’ she added in a sly whisper, ‘we have a particularly well-stocked toy chest as well.’
‘Dirty girl,’ Alice marvelled.
‘That was one kinky shopping trip,’ Thea reminisced. ‘I happened to make just a passing remark I’d never been in a sex shop. A week or so later, we were heading back to Saul’s from a restaurant in Soho when he suddenly bundled me through a doorway. Slap bang into this den of iniquity and plastic things.’
‘You never told me!’ Alice objected.
‘Well, it was hardly Joseph or Whistles,’ Thea reasoned. ‘Actually, it was a peculiar experience. Down a really seedy side street yet inside it was all bright lights and the most normal-looking customers imaginable. Though I seem to recall the sales assistant being quite alarmingly tattooed.’
‘Did you giggle like mad?’ Sally asked.
‘At first,’ Thea admitted, ‘but actually, everyone was browsing the wares so casually that I soon found myself assessing the merits of one dildo against another as I would ready-meals at Tesco. Saul spent a fortune. We couldn’t wait to get back to his to try things in.’
‘On,’ the editor in Alice corrected automatically.
‘No,’ Thea laughed, ‘I really do mean in !’
‘Do you have any of these bead things?’ Sally asked, now regarding Thea as the doyenne of kinky paraphernalia.
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