ONE: Vanilla on My Hands

27: And All He Needed was Seven Inches

Frank walked into the store the very next afternoon, the Wednesday lunch break had been set out for a very specific purpose. He had done a mental calculation in his head from his sordid flashback, stacking fingers on top of each other or measuring the side of his face and the little bit left over to figure it out. And all he needed was seven inches. Frank had realized that after he and Gerard had been together, that their one-night entanglement was most likely a sordid once-off, and that his sex-life was left in the dust yet again. Yet, Frank couldn't shake the feeling inside of him that Gerard had awoken; the yearning ache to be filled one more time, and the time after that. And here he was now with his mental math somewhat in order, the image of Gerard burned into his mind, as he strolled through aisles upon aisles of toys that just weren't right. He'd never done this before in his life and he felt so completely judged by the girl behind the counter eyeing him. Which is why he drove to the sex shop on the other side of town that he knew he would never ever go to again.

Seven inches, Frank repeated to himself, seeing them all go by in their boxes, all sorts of shapes and functions that didn't interest him. He wanted real, he wanted heavy and obscene and far too realistic, and if it meant not eating for a week to buy it, he'd survive.

The shop he was in now was at least a semblance cleaner, and less sleazy than he had expected. It wasn't dark and lit-in-red as he had thought. The floor was a simple black tile to match the black shelves and rails that aisled the place, the walls a dark burgundy with gold trim that added to the sexual energy charging up the place. Frank was surprised to see the quality of the products being sold, premium-looking boxes with minimal to no damage, and everything else wrapped in plastic. The outfits and bodywear in the corner all in their packages beneath the black vinyl show models. He didn't even feel the need to put on the gloves he had sitting in his pocket for emergencies. Frank didn't know what he had been expecting from the toy he wanted, but it wasn't this level. Sure, it wasn't going to be cellophane-wrapped cardboard and lotion like a bad DIY, but he'd seen what the local shop looked like down the road from his old job and he wouldn't have gone in there in a protective bubble. He stopped suddenly, a word on one of the boxes catching his attention, making him swivel back to make sure he hadn't been having a stroke.

"Ejaculating dildo?" Frank whispered softly, frowning in confusion, "How is that a thing?" He picked up the box and had a look at it, out of sheer curiosity, seeing the realistic-looking dildo and a disturbing syringe that was attached to it via a pipe.

"This can't be real," Frank turned, reading the description with vast amounts of intrigue, "For a dynamic and erotic sex toy, this dildo is for you. Me, really? Realistic squirting cock providing the uniquely stimulating sensation of ejaculation, eight inches. Realistic features including testicles, velvet-soft skin and the option to come. Wh-... Suction bottom for hands-free fun, you say?"Frank paused when a woman wandered behind him with one or two items in a black basket, his instinct had him look down as she passed before he continued reading under his breath,

"Simply inject with body-safe lubricant into included pump. Best used with Pop Lubricant, realistic semen-like lube. Oh, so you don't even get the lube with it? What a jip. For seventy dollars? Fuck that." Frank pulled a face similar to that of a grimace and set the box down carefully, making sure it was steady where it had been before he continued browsing, eyes scanning for a normal and ejaculate-free dildo. And then one caught his attention right at the bottom. It was simple, just what he wanted and not too expensive. He smiled sheepishly as he grabbed the box in his hands and straightened up, reading on the box.

"Flexible, super realistic seven-point-four-inch shaft with incredible life-like detail," Frank scratched at his chin, noting the stubble that he needed to shave later on, as he read in a whisper, "Phthalate-free PVC, strong suction cup base for hands-free play and compatible with any 'o' ring strap-on harness. Twenty-six dollars is more where I'm at." Frank tucked the box under his arm as he sucked in a breath and continued wandering, stopping only one shelf over when he looked at the vast and astounding array of lube.