Fishnet Magic

Chapter 2: Sex Shop Spells

The next morning—or was it still morning? Was it already past noon?

Whatever. It was a Saturday, and Lupita only had to make sure she made it to work by five or else her manager promised to fire her ass so fast, she'd have scorch marks on her pants for years.

The next morning-ish, Lupita perched on the edge of Amo's perfectly clean laminate mock-marble kitchen island. Her tanned legs dangled over the ledge as she waited for his verbal beratement.

"I'm not your mommy," he said instead, stunning her into silence. "You're a big fucking girl who can make up her own mind on whose Slim Jim she wants to lick."

Lupita wished that his words would make her feel better, but instead, she felt like vomiting.

Maybe it was from too many Amojitos.

Amojitos and shame.

"We didn't hook up, if that makes a difference."

"Girl. Read my big black lips. I. Don't. Care. You're an adult. If you feel like a pile of shit, it's probably because what you did was shit. I don't need to be your Jiminy Crickett motherfucker. What you need is some food. Or maybe weed. Or a cock ring."

Lupita curled her lip in confusion and raised one very un-penciled eyebrow. "Cock ring?"

Amo finished washing the last dish and turned to face her, itching his wide forehead with his sleeve. He crossed his arms over his linebacker barrel chest as if he was about to explain the mechanics of the universe to an ant. "Yes, a cock ring. Whenever I get down, I head to Guilty Pleasures Sexporium and treat myself to a brand new rod rattler."

"Dude, how many cock rings do you have?"

"None of your business. The point is that if you're frustrated, go productively shop someplace that'll get that tension out. And girl, you're blocked up. You've got a six-month old orgasm brewing in your hoo-ha, and I don't even want to be in the same zipcode when that demon comes forth into the world."

Lupita's despondent stare fell on her feet as she listlessly flailed her dangling legs around. The idea was intriguing. But could she ever step foot in a place like Guilty Pleasures? Maybe in the dead of night. Maybe if she acted like she was doing it against her will, or maybe she was shopping for a stupid bachelorette party and needed to stock up on penis shaped tiaras.

"Do you want me to go with you to Guily Pleasures?" Amo flipped a dish rag over his shoulder and re-crossed his arms, waiting for her answer.

What if someone saw her? What if they thought she was buying a vibrator? Oh God. What if her parents were driving by and they saw her in the parking lot. What if one of her professors saw her, or her boss or—

Her professors. . . What if Dr. Stillman happened to be driving by as she was entering the sex shop? Dr. Stillman, with his wavy brown hair and stunning blue eyes that reminded her of the Beast when he turned into a super fuckable cartoon man. Now if he were to catch her, she wondered if he would he mention it next class. Would she use it as an opportunity to inch in closer, lean in, brush the side of her breast against his arm? Would she lean back in the cushy maroon chairs across his desk and be like those cool kids who are super casual when talking about their sex lives—even to their professors? Would she tell him what she did with her new toy—how she'd opened it, lubed it up, teased herself with it, then cum while screaming his name? Would she kiss him if he asked her what she bought?

"Get in the car."

"What! Why?"

Amo grabbed his keys from the hand-painted ceramic bowl on the counter. "Get in the motherfucking car."