“You okay, hon?”
I nodded. “Just a little shy about this stuff, I guess.”
“That’s okay,” she said, smiling brightly.
The fact that the place was owned by a married couple alleviated my nerves a lot. Dianne did most of the work running the store, and her husband David did all the financial stuff. He was the one I talked to to fill out my application and my tax forms and all. Dianne was a tall woman who looked like she cruised biker bars. She was old enough to be my mother but in a dignified, sexy way. She liked tight hip hugger jeans and had the muscular physique to pull them off, and short shirts that lifted up to show a pattern of tattoos all around her middle when she stretched to reach for something. She worked out a lot, from the muscle in her arms and shoulders, and dyed her hair dark blue to match her eyes. David was of a height with her, lean and muscular, and liked leather. They made for a lot of rumors in town.
“Anyway,” she said, “it’s okay to be a little nervous. I know what kind of reputation we must have. There’s a lot of prudes in this town.”
It was a small town in the middle of nowhere, and she was right. I first heard about His ’n Hers from a student complaining they should be shut down and didn’t belong in town.
After the tour, I had to learn the mundane tasks, like working the register. When there was someone shopping I had to keep an eye on them, as the store had a real problem with shoplifting. I had to restock, and go around checking for little cards hanging on the rack reminding the store to reorder when they ran out of, say, inflatable butt plugs.
I had to deal with customers.
The first time someone asked me for help I could barely talk. I ended up pointing at the products they were looking for, and when they asked me if they should use silicone or water-based lube, I just stared at them.
For a while, it was rough.
By about a week in, it was second nature. I spent most of my shift either checking the shelves, working the register, or sitting on a stool working on my homework or reading a book. Most customers knew what they wanted and most were polite. There were only a few sketchy guys that would come in and stare at the movies, and as long as they didn’t start jerking off in the store I was told to just let them browse, and that was just fine with me. Dianne explained it all.
“Most spank bankers,” that’s what she called the guys that came into stare, “end up coming back to buy eventually. The temptation is too great, you know?”
Working with her was fun. She was witty and sharp and she knew everything about everything in the store. I started conversing with her.
One day, I started getting curious.
“I don’t get the appeal of the butt stuff,” I said.
“Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it.”
Sitting on my stool, I broke out laughing. I was working on my homework, a notebook and literature textbook spread out on the glass counter over the display of high-class butt plugs, the stainless steel and glass ones. We even sold some that had tails attached to them.
Too much information is a thing, but Dianne gave me a winking grin that just made it funny. I knew she was serious, too. She looked around and stood up.
“Here, see for yourself.”
My eyes went wide as she unzipped her hip huggers and pushed them down, tugging the denim down over her thick, muscular ass. She arched her back and bent a little, and there it was. Nestled between her smooth, muscular ass cheeks was a little purple jewel set in stainless steel. Dianne was wearing one of the fancy butt plugs. She tugged her jeans up zipped and turned to sit down, gingerly, grinning.
“It feels great,” she said. “I love walking around and feeling it shift inside me. Dave picked it out. I have one with a tail, too.”
“Wow,” I said.
She didn’t push me into anything or try to talk me into trying any of the toys or anything like that, but she was completely open about anything I might ask about. In a weird way, it made me more comfortable around her. She had nothing to hide.
One day when I came into work, she looked bad. Her dark roots were showing under her blue hair and her face was puffy from crying. I couldn’t help myself, so I asked.
“Hey. What’s wrong?”
“Relationship troubles?”
“Yeah.”
“Not you and Dave,” I said.
She shook her head. “My girlfriend broke up with us.”
I blinked a few times. “Excuse me?”
She looked at me and smiled a weak smile.
“We have an open relationship. For a while now I’d been seeing a girl. Dave would join in, too. It’s fun, keeps things spicy. Love is about more than sex, Alexis. Our relationship is strengthened by safe sex with other people. It keeps things exciting, and you haven’t lived until you’ve had a threesome. Or a foursome.”