New Toys

Faith wandered through the department store. She was in the kid's section; the boys needed some new pants, they were outgrowing their old ones. That was only going to keep happening, Faith knew. They were almost teenagers. A year from now they’d probably be taller than she was. It delighted her to see them grow up, but as she compared price tags she couldn’t help but wonder how Dennis and her were going to afford it.

She grabbed an off-brand pair of jeans from the rack and tossed them into her cart. The denim was cheap, but who knew how long they’d even fit for.

“You should show off those tits more.”

Faith’s mouth dropped. She slowly turned around to see who had said such an awful thing to her, more than a little worried about confronting the kind of man who would. There was nobody there. A small handful of customers meandered the racks further away, but nobody was close enough to have whispered in her ear. She looked around, worried, but there were no perverts to accost her.

Feeling disconcerted Faith pushed her cart away from the child's section. She had probably imagined it, there didn’t seem to be another explanation, but it helped ease her mind to move along. She crossed over to the women’s section where there were a few other shoppers. She felt safer for the company.

Not wanting to seem out of place, she idly browsed the rack of clothes in front of her. Her eye caught on a pink, spaghetti strap tank top. It wasn’t the sort of thing she wore, but she pulled it off the rack anyway. The neckline was far from daring, but it would be quite a departure from the modest blue-and-white floral dress she wore. None of the clothing in her wardrobe showed any cleavage at all.

She held it up to her torso for inspection in the mirror. It looked good on her, she had to admit. She’d never wear it, of course. She didn’t like the idea of other men getting a look at her breasts. Those were only for Dennis. She worried what the other moms would think if they saw her dressed like that.

Then Faith frowned. Would they care? She was a more reserved dresser than most of them were themselves. The tank top was hardly scandalous. Maybe, she had to admit, the hang-up was more in her head than a judgment from others. She looked around at the other women shopping nearby. None of them were staring at her, and none of them seemed even the least bit surprised that she was considering buying the shirt. One was even wearing something similar, though Faith guessed the other shopper was much younger than herself.

A new concern began to blossom in Faith’s chest. Was she the weird one for dressing like she did? She’d been raised to respect her body and to protect her husband’s pride, but was it possible she went too far with it? She looked down at the tank top. People would definitely be able to see her breasts if she wore it, but not too much. An appropriate amount, maybe? Faith was in her mid-thirties; she wasn't too old to try and pull something like that off, was she?

The thought of one of the husbands at her PTA meetings staring at her boobs came unbidden to the forefront of her mind. Faith hesitated. She didn’t want that, didn’t want to be seen as some kind of harlot. Then the picture changed. She pictured herself preparing breakfast in her apartment, leaning over the stove, and Dennis trying to keep his eyes to himself. A flush of warmth greeted spread through her chest. Giving him a little look at the goods wouldn’t be out of line; it might even be a little exciting.

Faith looked at the price tag and blanched. It was not in the budget. Then she looked at her cart. Three pairs of pants each for Owen and Lucas, and a new button-up shirt for Dennis. Nothing for her.

Motherhood was about sacrifice. She knew that. But it seemed that for a while now she’d done nothing but sacrifice. All she was was a wife and mother.

The guilt came next like it always did when she had such thoughts. She loved her children, she loved Dennis. It was no burden.

She held the tank top in her hands. Would it be the worst thing in the world if she took one tiny scrap for herself? Faith bit her lip. This would be her little pick-me-up, she rationalized. Just a little perk to keep her going.

She dropped the shirt into her cart. Before she checked out she stopped back by the kids section to return two pairs of pants to the rack; she needed to make room in the budget for her own purchase. Then, Faith left the store and made her way out through the mall.

Now that she’d made the decision she felt quite good about it. It would be nice to wear something different. She hoped Dennis would approve. More than that, she thought with a tiny sliver of hunger; she hoped he’d like it.

“A real man would fuck you like a slut.”

Faith stopped, frozen. The pervert was back. She turned to look but couldn't find whoever was speaking to her. Various groups of people passed by while she stood in the middle of the walkway, but nobody paid her any mind. She scanned the crowd. It sounded like it had come from her right, but the only thing there was a dingy adult store. Exactly the kind of place where a man like that would hide, she realized.

Emotions warred within Faith. She wanted nothing to do with whoever was stalking her, she was scared, but if she went out to her car now he might follow her into the parking lot. Then she’d be all alone with him.

With nerves like a hot griddle, Faith made up her mind and tepidly walked into the adult store. It was small, barely more than a few racks of items. The walls were covered in devices that drained the blood from her face. She’d never been in a store like this. It felt dirty, in more ways than one.

The cashier, a bored-looking woman with heavy eye shadow and an all-black ensemble, looked up as Faith wandered in, but went back to reading her magazine with a word. Faith looked around the store. If the man who had been harassing her was here, she didn’t see him. She headed towards the back, passing a row of pornography depicting huge penises and the woman they were penetrating, all of whom sported expressions of rapturous glee. It made Faith sick to her stomach.

Her gaze stopped on one in particular. On its cover, a woman was having sex on her kitchen floor. She was seated on top of the man, back to his chest, with her legs pulled up to her head. A large star decal hid where their privates met, but the open-mouthed expression of shock the lady gave left little doubt as to what was happening down there. The man’s muscles bulged with the effort of manhandling the woman; he had her twisted up like a pretzel. Faith licked her lips; the title read ‘Dominated MILFs’. She had no idea what that meant and had no intention of asking, but it captivated her.

“Buy something.”

Faith jumped, startled by the voice. She turned back to the cashier, who was the only other person there. “I’m just…browsing.”

The cashier looked up with a dull gaze. “Uh-huh. We get a lot of that.”

Faith shuffled nervously. Her stalker wasn’t in there, but now she was in the uncomfortable situation of standing in front of a rack of pornography. Not wanting to seem like the kind of woman who would want such things, and feeling pressured by the employee’s flat stare, she turned around to the wall behind her. “I was looking for…this.” Faith plucked the least offensive seeming item she could find off of its hangar. It was some kind of leather strap with what looked like a cat toy in the middle, the kind that had a bell trapped inside of a little plastic ball.

“Sure,” came the cashier’s disinterested reply. “Want me to ring you up then?”

“Um…yes.”

Faith walked up and handed the item over the counter. The packaging declared it as a ‘ball gag’. Faith blushed furiously.

“You need a bag?” The girl seemed annoyed at having been made to do her job.

“Uh…” Faith tried to peak over the counter. It wouldn’t do to walk into her home with a bag featuring the branding of a store like this.

“It’s a plain black bag,” the cashier told her.

“Oh, then, yes. Thank you.”

“Mhm.”

Faith swiped her card and took the offered bag, her new ball gag cradled within. She felt like a fool walking out of the store. She imagined the crowd looking at her, imagined what they thought she had been doing in there and what kind of woman that made her. It was a confusing feeling; Faith knew she should be ashamed, but there was something else there too.

One thing was for sure. Faith was not going to be using that item. She almost threw it away in fact, but then had second thoughts. It would be wasteful to just dump it into a trashcan. She’d spent money on it, after all. Faith waffled. She couldn’t get rid of it, and she certainly couldn’t use it with Dennis. She decided to hide it. Her underwear drawer would do. Faith hurried outside to her car, eager to make her new purchase disappear.