Perfect Tenn

“Mom, please I don’t need you to buy me anything. I can go get my own stuff or order it online like I always do,” I say, taking the big black dildo from her hand and putting it back.

“Don’t be silly. Your mom and I want to make sure you are fully satisfied,” Brenda says, walking over with a basket filled with all kinds of lotions and waxes. I’ll be having good nightmares tonight.

“Exactly, let us spoil you,” my mom, says holding a dildo in each hand.

“Can’t you do that by paying our rent or something,” I mumble, trying to figure out how I’m going to unsee this shit.

They both laugh and continue to toss things in the basket.

“Claire, have you ever used this lube? It is warming and holy shit you’ll be begging him to have you come.” Brenda holds up a tube that has a woman touching herself on it. “I’ll get us all one. Regan, you’ll love this.”

I look around for the escape hack, there has to be one. Maybe the floor will give out and just swallow me up, and I can spend the next few weeks in the hospital recovering. That would be more fun than this.

“Regan, holy shit here is a book all about self-pleasure. You need to read it, very informative,” my mom says.

“Great, can we get the hell out of here now?” I cover my face and groan into my hands.

“Just a bit longer. Let’s go look at the lingerie. I noticed you didn’t have much and every woman needs her fair share.” My mom smiles at me, while Brenda nods in agreement.

We walk over to the lingerie department, and I’ll admit, I’m shocked by some of it. There are simple and sexy ones like I have now, ones that would have a guy’s eyes pop out, and then ones that would probably make the woman come just by looking at herself.

I go over to the simple ones and my mom pulls my arm. “No, no. Something sexier for you.”

For real? Shouldn’t she be telling me to cover up and hold an aspirin between my legs? I don’t understand why she is so comfortable with dressing me up in lingerie.

“Mom, please. I can’t wear something that you bought me. It’s too weird.”

She doesn’t pay attention to me and continues to flip through the racks in front of her. Pulling out really sexy things that if she wasn’t the one holding I’d totally grab and bring home.

“Regan, I know your size so don’t worry, you don’t need to stand here if you don’t want. Go look at the massage oils.”

Yep, I’m done. I walk out of the store and sit on the hood of the car. I can’t do it, it’s not in me. Shopping in a sex shop with your girlfriends is fun. Shopping with your boyfriend is hot. Shopping with my mom and Brenda is fucking wrong.

After a good hour, they both come out laughing with bags of things, and I hope that I never find out what is in them. “Finally,” I say, sliding off the hood.

We get in the car and they talk non-stop about all the things they saw, and I think I want to die. That is until my mom looks in the rearview mirror at me. “We need to talk.”

No, we don’t. No, we definitely don’t need to talk.

“I know you said that you and Tenn were joking about the oral play.” No, no, no. Not this shit again. “Well Brenda and I decided that maybe you do need to talk about things. So, what do you want to know?”

I wonder if I would die if I jumped out of the car moving at this speed. Actually, it doesn’t matter, I’d rather jump out and deal with that pain, rather than be in this car. “Nothing. I don’t need to talk about anything.”

“We think you do. When was the last time you sucked cock?” Brenda asks.

“Nope, I’m done. I’m not doing this. Please no one else talk. I just want to go home and pretend the last hour of this day never happened,” I say, digging around in my purse for my phone.

When we pull up to my parents’ house, the car isn’t even in park before I’m out. I’ll thank them later, not for the sex talking, for buying lunch.

“Don’t be rude. Get over here and say goodbye,” my mother yells.

I go over and hug them both. “Thanks.”

“Hang on, here.” My mother hands me a bag and pats my arm. “Go home and play.”

**

I’m sitting on the couch having just hung up with Henry when Tenn walks in the door. “Damn it, I didn’t think you’d be home yet,” he says.