Was she supposed to be aroused by the sight of these…BOBs? And if so, why wasn’t she? But also, seriously, these looked like pro-level devices. Like she needed some kind of degree in masturbation to figure them out.

Surely there was an entry-level BOB?

The one in her hand was more like a battering ram or some kind of weapon. Who needed a gun when there was a club stashed in the bedside drawer?

Excruciatingly aware of Rosemary and Molly discussing cock rings—whatever the hell they were—somewhere off to the left, Della placed the dildo down. As if sensing how overwhelmed Della was, Frieda patted her hand. “Would you like me to take you through the merits of each model, hun?”

Relief, sharp and palpable, flooded Della’s system. “Oh yes, please.”

“Hey, us women, we gotta stick together,” Frieda said. “Reckon we should have to do the same for the men in our lives, too. Form a council of women and discuss the merits of each one, write out a list of pros and cons, ya know? Before we let any of our friends get too involved.”

Frieda laughed deep and throaty again. So did Winona. Della nodded in agreement. It sure as hell would have stopped her from making a monumental mistake.

“Okay now, this is your basic dildo.” Frieda’s pink sparkly nails tapped on the plain cylindrical plastic. It wasn’t particularly big or thick or long. “Nothing fancy or flexible about it, but good if you’re after something to just fill you up while you get off, yeah?”

The sex-shop owner was looking at Della for confirmation. She just nodded, because thinking about that made her think about Tucker and how conflicted she was about wanting him to fill her up and get her off, which made it difficult to form words. If she’d known coming to Frieda’s was going to make her think more of Tucker, not less, she might have rethought this expedition.

Frieda went through the selection of dildos she’d laid out, and Della’s embarrassment faded as her sexual curiosity cranked up.

“Now these”—Frieda indicated the section of devices she hadn’t yet touched—“are the vibrators. All made from medical-grade silicone, all BPA free, and all come with a one-year warranty.”

Della nodded, thoroughly impressed with Frieda’s sale pitch.

“This one”—she picked up a hot pink phallus—“is the basic vibrator.”

It was essentially the same shape as the dildo with a slightly more bulbous head. Frieda stood the item up and fiddled with the base for a moment before a whirring noise kicked in and the object started to quiver. She let it stand on its own, and all three of them watched as it trembled on the spot.