Did We Really Just Do That?

"Did we really just do that?" I ask, still breathless but finding my feet quickly enough that by the time we reach the outer doors I'm no longer needing her for support.

Rachel looks at me like she's absolutely clueless, "Not sure what you're talking about? We just went to use the ladies room. Nothing weird about that."

She winks and I know that I should keep my mouth shut.

On the other side of the door Rachel moves quickly, up to a little desk off to the side where she pulls out a non-descript black shopping bag that she quickly jams deep down into the bag I brought with me.

"Can't forget your purchases," she says, "Wouldn't want to leave emptyhanded, right?"

Suddenly I am seized by fear. I step closer as she leads me to the door, still moving with her while in a harsh whisper I implore her.

"Please tell me we're not stealing this."

Rachel rolls her eyes at me as if I'm the most naive girl in the world and shakes her head, "We're covered. Don't worry."

Did I just pay for sex toys by doing time at a gloryhole? That's the first thought I have and I have to wonder, in that moment, if that makes me a sex worker. Not that it's a profession to be ashamed of, I mean someone is going to do it. But if I was going to do it I'd just like to know in advance.

And frankly my pride at least let's me think that I could charge a higher price than a couple of dildos. I mean I was cute, right? I was sweet and innocent? Surely if I was going to sell the rights to myself, I could make a pretty penny. A whole lot more than-

As we leave the shop my thoughts are cut short. The cute guy who'd been flirting with Rachel, or who more specifically she had been flirting with, before everything in the back happened is helping out a customer there.

Watching him for an instant I see him lock eyes with Rachel and give a sly smile that she returns with a wink. He clears his throat and we exit through the front door and I get the idea. I understand it.

Rachel left, disappeared for a few minutes. She stepped out of the booth and there was giggling and the sound of footsteps and I bet if I checked the store records that handsome man was taking his break at that point.

I didn't pay for a thing, Rachel took care of it for me. And I highly doubt a woman as open as she was looking at things quite through my prudish lens.

Sure enough as we hit the street and turn back towards the general direction of the meeting spot she answers me without me having to ask, "Don't call it paying. Don't think of it as a reward for services rendered. I don't at least. I just like to think of it as me having some fun with a new friend who happened to do a favor for my friend in turn. Just people helping people out. Nothing was arranged in advance at least."

Though I'm sure a lot of it was implied.

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