Anticipation: Chapter Ten

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Anticipation OptimizedCaitlin was staggered by her evolution, going from a closet of old lingerie and no desire to freshen it to constantly imagining herself wearing the same sort of silky pretty that draped the Passion Now models as their videos started. Same with toys. Caitlin still had nothing in her bottom drawer, but had thought of sloshing one in and out of her pussy more times than she could count.

No longer trying to change only for Jay, but seeing her sexual growth as something for herself as well, Caitlin had a sudden and rather strong desire to go shopping for toys, lingerie, and maybe even desserts.

She wanted to be Jay’s omnipresent desire, but knew she wouldn’t nest in his mind on accident. She had to set the stage, but wouldn’t do it online. Caitlin thought that was the coward’s way of shopping for sex toys. She wanted her shopping to be tangible, and prove the immediacy of her feelings. She wanted a memory made, at least the first time.

After her morning routine, starting with Passion Now and finishing with her usual scream, shoved up against the jets gushing from the tub, Caitlin climbed out of the bath, dried herself off, and made herself pretty. Almost slutty.

It was odd, leaving the house looking a little trampy. She expected to feel guilty, leaving that way without Jay there to see her. Instead she felt opposite – sexy, slutty, ready for adventure.

Caitlin shed her usual yoga pants and cami like unneeded skin for a short skirt that hung like skimpy curtains over her still succulent ass and a low cut shirt that dipped into a scoop just above the valley of her delicious tits. She looked in the mirror, admiring her sluttier self before leaving the house and driving to the naughtier side of town.

On the far side of Inferno Falls was a small area nicknamed Tiny Amsterdam. “TA” was Inferno Falls’ version of a red light district. Caitlin had heard many rumors about the sorts of things that really went down in Amsterdam, from rampant prostitution to places called “glory holes,” where men went into rooms with holes in the wall, dipped their dicks through the holes, and got anonymously sucked off from the other side.

Caitlin had no idea what really did or didn’t happen in Tiny Amsterdam, but there was a section of the district down Coronado Street that she sometimes passed, with a trio of shops which always prodded her interest: The Broken Halo, Peaches & Cream, and Just Desserts. 

Broken Halo and Peaches & Cream were the converse of one another; Broken Halo was a lingerie shop with two walls of sex toys. Peaches and Cream was a sex shop, with a few racks of lingerie. In the middle of the two shops was Just Desserts. Like the other two stores, it was impossible to tell what Just Desserts sold from the outside, which was the only reason Caitlin didn’t drive the long way around with underaged passengers.

Caitlin probably could have guessed what Just Desserts sold, even if her boys couldn’t. Yet. But she knew for sure because she heard the truth from girlfriends, and even had a mouthwatering bite from one of their delicious cakes, shaped like a penis with whipped cream goo dribbling out from the tip.

Caitlin parked her car in front of Just Desserts, knowing there was a small risk of someone seeing and recognizing her Pilot. It was impossible to mistake with the bumper sticker Jay had slapped on the back one morning on his way to work when she wasn’t looking. It said, I’m only speeding because I have to poop. It made her laugh just enough to keep it stuck to the car.

Caitlin smiled, still feeling sexy, a little bit slutty, and honestly not caring who in the hell saw her SUV. She opened the door, dropped to the street, then walked around the Pilot and into The Broken Halo.

Caitlin was only in the shop for a minute before she wondered what had taken her so long to get there. Memories flooded her; being young, before children, when everything seemed exciting — back when she and Jay could waste a Sunday doing nothing but fucking some and then fucking again.

The Broken Halo’s lingerie selection was stunning. The shop was cleverly divided in half, naughty on one side and nice on the other. Caitlin stood in the center, unsure where to go. Her old self edged her toward nice while the rest nudged her toward naughty.

Lingerie is such a romantic gift because no matter a woman’s size, the right night things can make her feel sexy; more like the women she is. The key lies in buying the right type of lingerie. Few men get it right.

Lingerie isn’t for men, or women. It’s for the couple, and should be comfortable for both. That comfort goes beyond the fit. Everything matters, from preference to personality to body type. For Caitlin that meant buying something that complimented her still firm tits and ass, but disguised the belly fat and loose skin that followed three sons and never had the decency to leave.

Caitlin browsed, marveling at both selection and similarity, wondering what type of lover she actually was, slowly realizing that the many colors, sizes, shapes and cuts were silky proof that there was no ideal, no true answer, no one perfect fit. Lingerie was like people: what you wore mattered less than how you wore it.

Caitlin asked herself if she was submissive or shy; a seductress or vixen in waiting. She ran her hands across a row of leather lingerie, shaking her head with the certainty that that wasn’t, and never would be her.

She shopped for 30 minutes, finally leaving The Halo with three pieces for bed; one sweet, one playful, and one downright nasty. She also bought a small selection of sexy undergarments. These were for her, not Jay, though he would certainly see the benefits. Caitlin loved wearing sexy, frilly, satiny bras and panties under her clothes. At least she used to. The sexier she felt, the sexier Jay would think she was.

She wanted to shop for lingerie first since she was almost certain she would feel uncomfortable in the sex shop. Though her heart was beating fast, Caitlin was pleasantly relaxed as she stepped into the store and looked around, surprised by the warm lighting and tastefully set displays.

She was overwhelmed, looking at the many varieties of sex toy, from dildos and vibrators to clamps and artificial holes. There were even pieces of furniture and an entire wall of lubricants. Caitlin didn’t know where to start, or what she wanted. Like the lingerie, the toy wasn’t just for her. It was for Jay too, and she was shopping for both of them.

Her body tingled. The row of glass dildos in a large display at the front of the store made her think of Passion Now; Leah, Nadia, Sofia, Alexa, Becky, and all the other gorgeous models who played with their pussies for her at least once each day.

Caitlin wasn’t sure what she wanted, or what she wanted Jay to use on her, but was definitely more nervous buying the sex toy than she was the lingerie, and ultimately decided on a long and reasonably skinny white glass dildo with a red slither around it that the salesgirl, Lisa, said was the “perfect starter,” and even told Caitlin that she knew from personal experience with an enviably unembarrassed wink. The dildo was similar to the one Caitlin saw Nadia use that first day in the bathtub, which alone was enough to open her wallet. She paid, thanked Lisa, loaded her bag in the Pilot, then went into Just Desserts.

In a way, Just Desserts was louder then Peaches & Cream. There were cupcakes, sheet cakes and pastries, with everything in the bakery designed to look naughty. Cocks, pussies, tits, cumshots, assholes — all were represented. Both the lingerie and toy shops worked to get Caitlin in a lather, but she found herself mostly amused in the bakery. It was so non-arousing, she couldn’t get herself to buy anything, other then a small box of chocolate covered strawberries. Caitlin had already paid and was about to leave, when she decided to buy a small pint of whipped cream, mostly because she loved the canister — pink and red with a dollop of white with a sexy font above and below; the words: Life’s too short to forget the cream. 

“Is there anything special about this whipped cream?” Caitlin asked the salesgirl. The salesgirl smiled and shook her head. “No,” she laughed. “It’s just whipped cream. But if you don’t mind me being crass, it mixes really well with the taste of cum.”

Caitlin handed the salesgirl her credit card to complete the second purchase and smiled, feeling a flush from the sales girl’s comment, suddenly glad she was on her way home, now that all three shops had managed to turn her on.

She got in the car and pulled into traffic, hotter than she thought she would be leaving The Amsterdam, feeling the sticky stewing between her legs, and wondering if she would be able to make it home without doing anything about it.


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