"Ancient Chinese secret," he said. "And I'm not talking about laundry detergent."

The bottle had clear plastic sealing it, so it couldn't have

been too ancient. I had to squint to read the print and

couldn't make out the words, but the picture on the front

was a stylized butterfly. That didn't tel me much.

"It's orgasm-enhancement gel. For women. The ladies go

"It's orgasm-enhancement gel. For women. The ladies go

crazy for it," he said, as if he was confessing.

An invisible yardstick slid down the back of my shirt. My

shoulders came up, and so did my breasts, which finaly

got more than a disinterested glance from him. He didn't

look long, but he did look.

"What's it do?" I asked.

He held out the box to me until I took it. "It helps women

who can't come."

"I—" I had nothing to say to that. I tried, but the words

stuck in my throat. My back went impossibly straighter,

my shoulders squaring. I put my hand on my hip as I tried

to hand him back the box.

He wouldn't take it. "You said you wanted something for

yourself. You can't tel me you want a crappy piece of

lingerie."

"I don't need this!" I shoved the box toward him again.

"That's for women who need help!"

Maybe I was primed to be embarrassed. Maybe the idea

had already been put into my head that I would find an

had already been put into my head that I would find an

item, as unbelievable as I could find it, that would

embarrass me to buy. Vibrators that could guide missiles

and ass plugs with horsetails on them hadn't made me

blush, but this smal bottle had turned my cheeks to fire.

I looked into his face. "This is for women who can't have

orgasms, right?"

He shrugged and wouldn't take the box from my hands.

"It's supposed to help."

"Do I…do I look like I need help? With…that?"

I have been checked out and dismissed by women who

knew how to cut me down with no more than a glance, but

I've never been so thoroughly dissected visualy by a guy.

Guys look. They find the parts they like and linger there

and maybe they turn away if there's not much to hold

them, but most often, in my case, they'l look again if for no

other reason than I have al the right parts where they're al

supposed to go.

This guy looked. And looked some more. He took me in

from every inch and then went over them al again. When

he settled, finaly, on my face, he shrugged again. "Sweetie,

he settled, finaly, on my face, he shrugged again. "Sweetie,

fuzzy panties aren't going to get you off. This wil."

The "sweetie" gave it away, but guessing he didn't like girls made me feel only marginaly better about the fact he

thought I looked like a woman who didn't know how to

come. I closed my fingers over the box. I lifted my chin

and blew out a slow breath that did nothing to cool my

cheeks.

"Fine," I said through gritted teeth. "I'l take it."

At the register, he rang me up while he chattered about the

dancers on the other side, and how on Monday nights they

had "boys," if I was interested. He slipped the box into a plain brown bag and swiped my credit card, peering at my

name like he wanted to imprint it on his brain.

I kept my head high, even though my signature skidded on

the paper from the shaking of my hands. I was sure he'd

question it, but that would've only added to my

embarrassment, which was why I was here. Wasn't it?

In the parking lot, I took long, shalow breaths to clear my

head. The brown bag, spotted with sweat from my palms,

got tossed immediately into the backseat. I put my hands

flat on the roof of the car and took another few breaths.

flat on the roof of the car and took another few breaths.

Night had begun to drift over the parking lot while I was

inside. I hadn't thought I'd come out in darkness, but

spring is tricky that way. You think you have another few

minutes in the sun and you end up stubbing your toe

because the twilight hides the rough spots on the

pavement.

I needed a drink in the worst way, my throat so dry now I

could concentrate on it and not my molten face. Sensations

sat back from the road, but it wasn't alone in the strip of

stores. A smal Handi-Mart with a liquor license sold

snacks, beer and wine coolers, probably to the patrons of

Sensations' dance parlor.

I yanked open the door and heard the bel jangle, my

attention focused on the row of refrigerators at the end of

the shop. I stepped aside, though, for the woman pushing

her way out of the door as I went in. Then I stopped as

the door swung in to close in my face, and I pushed it

open to cal after her.

"Miriam?"

She turned and gave me a broad, white-toothed smile.

She turned and gave me a broad, white-toothed smile.

"Helo, dear. So nice to see you."

I knew she had a life outside of her shop, that she lived in

a house. Drove a car. Shopped for wine coolers, too,

apparently, and bought gum and cigarettes. Even so,

seeing her outside what I thought of as her natural

environment stumped me.

"What…hi. Wow, I didn't think I'd run into you."

She smiled again and patted my arm. "Of course not, dear,

why would you?"

I laughed. "I don't know."

"Wil you be in to the store soon?" She tilted her head to

assess me. At her throat she wore a tiger-print scarf

tucked into the lapels of her sleek red coat. Damn, I

wished I had her style. "I have some lovely new things.

And that box is waiting for you."

I thought of the box I'd just purchased and what I was

meant to do with it, and my voice went a little faint when I

answered her. "Maybe I'l make it in this week."

"Good." She nodded and moved off. She walked slowly

"Good." She nodded and moved off. She walked slowly

but without limping or using a cane, belying her age.

I watched her go for a little, then turned and went inside

the store, where I added a six-pack of wine coolers to my

bottle of water. I had a date with my hand and a bottle of

Cum-Ezee.

Chapter 16

Why had I been embarrassed?

Naked and wet from my shower, I stood in front of my

bed and opened the box lid. I puled out the bottle, peeled

off the plastic meant to protect me from God knew what.

A glass bottle, it was heavy, and the stopper made of

rubber reminded me of a nipple when I squeezed it

between my thumb and forefinger.

I squeezed my own nipple with fingers slick from my own

saliva. It stood up under my touch. Already my heart had

begun beating a little faster, not so much from what I was

doing but in anticipation of what I meant to do. I shook the

bottle and held it up. Inside, clear liquid shifted, looking

oily. It reminded me of those toys I made in elementary

school out of plastic soda bottles, oil and colored water.

I'd always liked to add glitter to mine.

This had no glitter, just an oily clear liquid that shone when

held up to the light. I read the ingredients but could find

nothing scary. Hemp oil. Was that even legal? Ginseng.

Ginger. Al natural ingredients, I thought.

My face flamed again. I didn't have a ful-length mirror in

my bedroom, just the mirror on my dresser. From where I

stood, only my torso reflected. I had no head. No legs

below my upper thighs. I was nothing but my sexual parts.

Breasts. Bely. Ass. Cunt.

You will find the one thing that embarrasses you the

most, and you will use it until you achieve orgasm.

Why had I been embarrassed to buy this bottle of liquid

from a man who didn't even like women, and therefore

shouldn't be blamed for not seeing how fucking sexy I

realy am? I shook it again and took the stopper out. It

looked like a medicine dropper, but without the marks to

indicate dosage. I squeezed the rubber nipple again as I

pinched my own.

In the mirror, the woman did the same. I held out my

fingertip, the dropper poised over it. The liquid, stil

shining, made a teardrop before it fel onto my skin. I

rubbed it in with my thumb and waited. The slickness

didn't dissolve and faint warmth filtered through my skin.

Why was I embarrassed to have a stranger think I couldn't

Why was I embarrassed to have a stranger think I couldn't

have an orgasm? I let another drop fal onto my fingertip. I

spread it on my nipples. This time, when I squeezed them,

my fingers skipped and slid over my skin. My nipples,

hard, now, warmed under the oil and my touch.

Lubricated, my finger slid across my clit like silk on satin.

My lips parted. Air eased out. I touched myself again,

finger circling, and waited for the heat. It came a second or

two later, hotter than it had been on my nipples. I bit my

lower lip with a hiss.

It was hard to tel if the oil had aphrodisiac powers or the

effect was in my mind, but in the end, did it matter? I lay

back on my bed, my legs spread, feet planted firmly on the

comforter to make it easier to rock my hips into the