Joined By A Stranger

"Hey there," a deeply bassy male voice sounds from behind us, "Can I help you both with something?"

Call me biased or prejudiced or any of the things you want to call me. Sincerely, I deserve it. I walked in here with ideas about this place and the contents within and honestly, I don't think I can back them up now.

This is the first time I've ever been in a sex shop, if that's any sort of justification for things. Never stepped foot in one before and I'll admit that my interpretation of the environment was probably heavily influenced by a period that was decidedly centered in the 1970s or 80s with all of the slimy seediness that came along with it.

Trenchcoats and slimy surfaces only outmatched by the general sliminess of the people involved. All of whom would be men. All of whom would be older. All of whom would be greasy and smelling like a combination of stale cigarettes and whiskey, eyes bleary but still focused enough to stare us up and down before licking their thin lips and giving us a yellowed grin.

Yeah, I had ideas. And in a moment they were all shattered away.

Well, more like a succession of moments.

Because the guy speaks and Rachel and I both spin to look at him and I think both of us have the same initial reaction, really the only one that's even remotely reasonable when you're staring into the face of movie star level handsome.

Shaggy sandy blonde hair that is artfully long without being so long that it reaches past his ears, just kind of loose and wavy, with the curls perfectly done so they seem a cascade of colors and shine. Eyes a blue so pale they might as well be gray but quick and keen and prone to crinkling. And set in a face that is perfectly symmetrical, except in the little places where it isn't which make it all the more perfect for it. Nose that was probably broken once or twice. Little laugh lines around the corners of his eyes. High cheekbones and sharp features that soften and quicken while he speaks like he's some kind of trickster god of antiquity.

All that and flawless tan skin a body that is clearly wiry but built beneath it. If bodies and looks were of an era, he would be of this one. The kind of body that doesn't bulge with muscle but that you know is sharply defined by it, with every inch of him cut and defined and god, surely that look is timeless, right?

It is for me. It definitely is for Rachel. Both of us whom take a moment and a breath before smiling back at this guy and softening a little and god it's good that she's the one with confidence here because if she wasn't I would have fallen all over myself and made an even bigger fool than I already was, which was a blushing girl standing there holding a selection of dildos and vibrators so I wasn't exactly smooth and easy, you know?

"We're looking around," Rachel says, sliding forward and notably just edging me out a little with her shoulder. Just stepping in front of me a half-step, as if to make it clear to him that she was the one that he needed to be interested in.

And I couldn't help it. Something ugly flared up in me. It was only for an instant and it was only a flash, just a little bit of something that I couldn't quite control. Green and quick and angry, this little thought that played in the back of my head and asked what the fuck she thought she was doing, how she thought she was better than me, and why the hell I didn't deserve to take a shot.

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