I felt like a skank after letting Sean use me in the stable and then toss me aside like a piece of trailer trash. I had gone far out of my way to find lust (yes, lust not love); so I suppose I got what I deserved. On one hand, I didn't want to feel cheap after every orgasm; but I still wanted, no needed, physical contact and sexual gratification.

I decided to put my whoring around (let's be honest, that's what it was) on the back burner.

I resumed spending Sundays at Paul’s church and Paul continued to mount me every couple of weeks, shoot after ninety seconds and fall asleep.

It wasn't as if I weren't having orgasms; but diddling myself in front of the full-length mirror or in the shower, just wasn't enough.

I decided to get a vibrator to hopefully heighten my climaxes to a level commensurate with what I experienced by fucking random men.

I first surfed the internet. I was nearly overwhelmed by the sheer number of penis substitutes and battery-operated stimulation devices. I really liked the concept of a vibrator, but in the shape of a penis. I selected a silicone, water-proof device powered by two AAA batteries. Eight inches seemed about right. I wanted to be stuffed, but not over-stuffed.

Unfortunately, a monkey wrench was tossed into the works. I would need to use a credit card.

There was absolutely no way I’d risk Paul finding out I had ordered something from “Pricks R Us” for $49.99, plus shipping & handling.

I moved on to Plan B.

I had seen at least two possible adult stores out near the airport when I had my fling with Kurt. As one might anticipate, they were located in a mile-long span of pawn shops, liquor stores, and vape emporiums.

I decided to shop incognito. I searched my closet for a boring grade school teacher skirt and my chest of drawers for a church lady sweater. I selected some old brown flats. Contrary to my then practice of naturalism, I even donned a bra and granny panties. I fashioned a small prairie dog-sized ponytail and threaded it out the back of an NYPD ball cap. I opted for no makeup.

I hopped into the minivan and headed to the other side of the tracks.

I don't know why, but somehow I figured an adult “merchandise” store would be nearly empty at 10:30 in the morning. I was wrong.

I cruised past the first establishment, simply called “EROS” in pink neon. Mannequins sporting black or red lingerie resided behind large plate-glass windows. Only two SUVs were parked in the front; but a side parking lot, seemingly shared with the adjacent vape shop, was two-thirds full.

I drove on by and decided to scope out the second possibility.

A half mile down the road was a dilapidated mobile sign with removable letters spelling out “KIPS”, the “S” falling downward by forty-five degrees. I drove past, not knowing if I had remembered correctly.

I pulled into a Circle K and parked at the pumps. The minivan was running on fumes. This was no neighborhood in which to run out of gas. While the tank was filling, I bopped into the mini-mart and grabbed a Red Bull.

Back in the minivan, I sipped the pick-me-up and checked Google Maps. Sure enough, Kips was number two on my list.

Kips was a rundown building situated on a flag lot, back behind a self-storage facility and a closed Jack-in-the-Box burger joint. The pot-holed parking lot contained six or seven vehicles. A Harley sat by the front door.

The ground near the front door was littered with cigarette butts. A faded cardboard sign proclaiming “No Smoking” was stapled to the splintering plywood. I took a deep breath and entered.

Beyond the exterior door was an antechamber, darkened by a heavy and grimy curtain. Trying to touch it as little as possible, I pulled the edge to the side.

I was overwhelmed by a nauseating collection of odors, each enough to provoke gagging or emesis: cigarette smoke, Mr. Clean, bus station urinal cakes and an unusual odor reminiscent of rotting mushrooms.

I turned around, wiped my clammy hands on my skirt, and returned to the minivan.

“Ugh” was my only thought. Maybe I was destined for a life of masturbation and the occasional humping by Paul.

I chugged the dregs of my Red Bull. It maybe gave me wings, as I decided to at least stick my nose into EROS.

I was relieved when I pulled into the parking lot. There was only one vehicle out front, a cute little BMW convertible. The side lot contained just two pickups and a FedEx van.

I nosed in beside the convertible, took another deep breath and headed toward the door.

EROS reminded me of a CVS or DSW. There was the obligatory no smoking sign, but the sidewalk was clean and free of butts. I entered directly into a well-lit store that smelled only vaguely of cherry air freshener and something slightly skunky. The answer was just inside the door and to the left.

Behind the counter sat an older woman, maybe sixty-five or seventy, using a vape device. By the smell, the cartridge contained oil from Montego Bay, as opposed to Winston-Salem.

She smiled, introduced herself as Marge, and welcomed me to EROS. Marge queried, “First time? Anything special I can help you with?”

No way could I answer. “Yes, a big cock-shaped dildo that I can rub on my clit and cram into my pussy and ass.”

So, I answered the best spur-of-the-moment way I could, “Just looking, for a friend. Not looking for a friend-friend, but a gift for a friend.” I felt my face flushing.

Marge let me off the hook. Pointing as she spoke, “Magazines on the right. That hall’s to the restrooms. Ladies’ is cleaner than Steak & Shake. DVDs in racks over there, arranged by ‘whatever your thing might be’ (air quotes). Rental or for sale. Nothing kinky. Toys in those racks in the middle. Duracells, end-aisle over there. Those three doors are for private DVD viewing. Five dollars for one hour or until you're, well, done. That curtain goes to the video arcade. Six booths. Take’s these tokens. Five for five bucks. Menu of the videos on the wall. Lights above the booths back there and out here are lit, if someone's in ‘em.”

She didn't seem short of breath after all that.

I thanked her and started browsing the toys. I had a pretty good idea what I wanted from my internet search, but I looked over all the merchandise never-the-less.

“Quite a selection, right?” I heard.

I looked up and across the rack to see a very handsome fiftyish-looking gentleman smiling at me. I gave him a quick once-over: tall (maybe six-three or so), tan and fit, styled salt and pepper executive-cut hair, white Oxford cloth shirt (two buttons open at the collar and sleeves rolled up), business casual slacks and Gucci loafers. Everything spelled country club member and BMW owner.

I looked at his left ring finger and he, mine.

I stuttered, “I guess. I don't have much experience in this sort of shopping.”

“There's always a first time. No reason to be embarrassed,” he countered. “Have a nice day.”

Mr. Tall and Handsome moved over to the DVDs.

I selected an eight-inch vibrating/thrusting silicone dildo with a suction cup base, lifelike balls and a remote. I figured the remote might come in handy (pun intended), if my hands were otherwise occupied. It seemed like a bargain at $29.99, plus tax.

I took my selection and a thirty-six pack of AAAs (I planned on putting the toy to good use sooner, rather than later) over to Marge.

She offered, “You're a natural. That's one of my favorites. By the way, don't look; but you've got yourself an admirer.” She pointed to the arcade curtain. Mr. Tall and Handsome was entering the arcade, looking back and smiling as he did so.

“I forgot to tell you. As a new customer, you get five free arcade tokens. Why don't you check out the rest of the store while I bag up your little friend.”

She handed me five quarter-sized metal coins.

I figured free is free.

It took a few seconds for my eyes to adjust to the darkness. The arcade was essentially a hall with low benches on the right and six doors on the left. The first two booths were clearly occupied, lights illuminated over closed doors. Mr. Tall and Handsome was standing in the half-open door of booth number four.

“Hey, let me show you how these work.”

I'm not sure what I was thinking, but it seemed at the time to be reasonable; plus I was riding a high from the Red Bull and from buying my first sex toy.

Richard (as I would later learn) held the door open, and I entered. The booth was cozy or claustrophobic, depending on one’s perspective. On the far wall was a video screen with controls and a coin slot. The other walls and the back of the door were painted black. There was only a single patio-style plastic chair, so we both stood.

Richard asked whether I had seen the menu just outside the curtain. He explained the “A” group of videos was hetero, the “B” group was gay male, etc. He suggested I start the play with two tokens, go to group “A” and scroll until I found “something interesting.”

I did as Richard suggested, ultimately selecting a video with two young plumber apprentices pleasuring an attractive homeowner about my age. She, like me, was a ginger; but the similarities stopped there. She sported massive tits and had a narrow landing strip of curly red pubes.

The threesome sucked and fucked in just about any combination one might envision, ultimately settling into the MILF riding one young stud in a reverse cowgirl position while sucking the nine-inch cock of his coworker.

We were standing shoulder to shoulder. After a few minutes, Richard placed his right hand on my low back, slowly rubbing up toward my shoulders and back. It was relaxing. I did nothing to impede him as he then slipped his hand under my sweater. His hand brought on goose flesh. I felt a longing sensation in my taint and tingling in my nipples

I slipped my own right hand under my sweater and teased my left nipple. I regretted wearing a bra; but the palpable nipple was still hard and sensitive, even through the silky fabric.

I reached to the left and explored the front of Richard’s trousers. He was partially erect, his cock extending down the left pant leg. I felt a telltale wet spot, suggesting he was already dripping precum. I wanted in on my tongue, not wasted on the fabric.

Richard pushed his pelvis forward, grinding his prick against my palm. Simultaneously, his right hand slid upward to my bra strap. With neither hesitation nor fumbling, he unfastened the two eyelets.

Without speaking a word, I stepped backward and sat on the white plastic chair. Richard knew what I had in mind. He pivoted and stood before my face, but not before locking the door.

As I fumbled with his needle-pointed preppy belt, the button and zipper; he was trying to hike my sweater and bra up and over my head. I paused my cock extraction efforts long enough to remove my cap and to extend my arms upward. He leaned forward with his open fly near my face and draped the sweater and bra over the back of the chair.

“My G*d, you have beautiful tits. Those nipples,” he exclaimed.

Richard didn't finish the sentence. He didn't have to, because I knew what he was thinking. I didn't tan, so my 34 Ds were creamy white. Sitting high on each tit was a nickle-sized pink areola, sporting a gumdrop nipple pointed upward at a sixty-degree angle. My hooters screamed, “suck me.”

My new lover bent down and heeded this unspoken command, sucking my left nipple while rolling the right between index and thumb.

It felt great; but I wanted cock, at a minimum, in my mouth and hopefully also in my wet pussy.

Richard must have sensed my need or perhaps he was on the clock. One way or the other, he straightened, planting a passionate French kiss on my lips as he arose.

I wasted no time resuming my treasure hunt. Luckily, he was commando, so I didn't have to fight with any boxers or briefs. I simply held his waistband with my left hand and searched for my prize with the right.

I pulled Richard’s dick and balls out of their hiding place. If I hadn't known better, I would have surmised they were the model for my new vibrator. His sausage was a little over eight inches in length and a nice comfortable thickness. It felt just right as I circled its girth, with my fingertips not quite approximating.

Richard placed both hands on my head and brought my face toward his offering. I didn't mind. I wanted him to be in control, total control.

His pee slit was glistening with precum. I extended my tongue and with the tip sampled its salty sweetness. I heard Richard sigh, and I felt his cock twitch in my hand. While keeping the tip of my tongue in contact with his slip, I looked up and locked eyes with his. He opened his mouth and nodded.

I've got to give Richard credit. My guess is that many men would have forced my mouth onto their pricks and then given me a royal face-fucking. I wouldn't have minded it, any more than I would have minded kneeling on the dirty concrete floor to service him. I wanted to be his fuck toy.

I parted my lips and scooted forward on the chair, bringing his velvety cockhead into my mouth and over my tongue.

I bobbed my head up and down, sucking while applying upward pressure with my tongue. I jacked the shaft and added a ring-out-the-dishrag rotational component. It must have had the desired effect, as he moaned, “That's it, Baby. Suck my cock. Jack it. Suck it good.”

I was getting hot. I used my left hand to hike up my skirt. I plunged my fingers down to the front of my sopping-wet granny panties. I began making small circles over my clit. Even with a layer of damp cotton interposed between my fingertips and my love button, I could feel it hardening.

In order to avoid a loss of focus on Richard’s dick while I masturbated, I tried to synchronize the pace of my right hand jacking and my left hand diddling. I was only marginally successful. I'd never been a gal who could simultaneously chew gum and tie my shoes.

As it turned out, all it took was another “Yeah, suck that cock” to get me over the top.

I stopped sucking and jacking. I held my breath. Then the tsunami began. I shuddered, my thighs involuntarily locked together and my toes spasmed in my flats. Despite having a mouth full of cock, I gurgled out an “Oh, G*d, I'm cumming.”

After two or three minutes, I regained at least a semblance of composure. I pulled Richard’s cock out of my mouth, spittle drooling down my chin. I wiped my face with the back of my hand and looked up at him. “Hey, I'm sorry. I lost control.”

He put his large hands into my armpits and pulled me to my feet. He leaned and kissed me on the forehead, then the nose and then my lips. He didn't linger. He moved on to my neck and left breast, then up to my neck again. He whispered in my left ear, “I've never been so turned on. I need to fuck you.”

I broke our embrace and turned toward the corner and plastic chair. I leaned forward and used my right hand on the chair back to brace myself. With the left, I lifted and flipped my skirt up onto my back. My ass and pussy were Richard‘s for the taking.

Richard pulled my embarrassing cotton undies over my hips and down to my ankles. He helped me step one, then the other foot out of the leg holes. He tossed the underwear onto the chair’s seat.

I anticipated Richard would just mount me, driving his rod into my small love canal and then empty his balls in a minute or two.

To my surprise and pleasure, Richard took his time. I looked my shoulder and saw him rub his lips across my left buttock, then lick and kiss it. He repeated this display of affection on the right. These simple movements heightened the stirring deep in my taint and made my nipples ache for attention.

I brought the index and long fingers of my free left hand up to my mouth. I licked their tips, then hungrily sucked them into my mouth. I lavished them with abundant saliva and then painted each areola and nipple with it. My nipples responded by hardening even more.

Richard dropped to a kneeling position behind me. My first thought was, “His pants!” My second thought was, “G*d, that feels good.”

Richard parted my ass cheeks and began licking from my rosebud, down my taint to my pussy lips. I instinctively sagged my belly, rotating my pelvis upward. I exposed my cunt for breeding, much as female simians have done for countless millennia.

I heard Richard inhale my essence deeply through his nostrils in a Flehmen manner. I knew he would soon be mounting me doggy-style.

Richard took one last lick between my labial folds, then stood. I begged him, “Fuck me.”

He began rubbing the precum-lubricated head of his cock on my anus, then lowering it to my vaginal entrance. The stimulation of my inner folds and the contact of his prick on that secret rough spot at the edge of my cunt and taint made me delirious. I wanted his meat. I needed to be fucked now.

I reached down between my legs and directed Richard’s cock toward my vagina. With just a subtle hitch of my pelvis, his manhood sank into my welcoming, warm and wet cunt.

Richard was a considerate lover. He knew my small pussy couldn’t handle all eight inches without pain from bottoming out. He fisted the base of his monster with his left hand, leaving only about four inches for plunging. Another plus was that his knuckles gave my clit a good workout.

The bulbous head of Richard’s lady pleaser was rubbing my G-spot better than I could have done myself. I licked my left index and social fingers once again, then lowered them to my mons. I pulled upward and tensioned my labia majora to allow maximal stimulation of my clit by Richard’s knuckles. I was on the receiving end of a true banging.

I dropped my head and began panting. That irreversible wave began crashing on my taint. I growled through clenched teeth, “I gonna cum. Oh shit, I'm cumming.” My thighs involuntarily rotated and squeezed inward, locking my left hand over my clit in a protective manner.

Richard did not speak. Instead, he paused, retracting his penis an inch or so. After what seemed like eons, he tentatively moved his love stick deeper, then withdrew it again.

And then he came with four or five violent thrusts. His only sound was a loud guttural “ugh” with each ejaculation.

Richard recovered quickly. He added his left hand to my pelvic wing, pushed and withdrew his breeder from my pussy. I felt an instant longing.

I pushed upward from the chair, trying to balance on wobbly legs. Before lowering my skirt, I grabbed my panties and wadded them into my crotch. I could already feel Richard’s massive load leaking out of my pussy.

I turned and was disappointed. Richard was already fastening his belt, having stowed his beautiful cock. I would have knelt and sucked out his remaining spew, if given the chance.

We embraced without kissing.

Richard looked at his Rolex and said he had to get back to work. I was temporarily taken aback until he suggested we exchange cell numbers.

He gave me a kiss on the cheek and whispered, “You’ve got a lucky husband.”

Then he was gone.