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Wincing at that, I tell her, “Isaac showed up to stop me from going on my date,” I explain. “And I’m sorry if we were loud. It is sort of his fault I’m sick. At least partially. We had sex. Twice. No protection either time. He was finishing inside me before I realized it the first time…”
Brooke’s hazel eyes go wide. “Uh-oh.”
Nodding, I tell her about going to the pharmacy, thinking there was nothing to taking a little pill. Throwing it up twice…
“Do you think it worked?” I ask her.
“It must have done something to make you sick. A surge in hormones or whatever. When was your last period?”
“Three weeks ago,” I say, already having done the math.
“Oh, then you’re probably fine anyway.”
“You think so?”
“Are your cycles regular?”
I nod. “Every four weeks, every time.”
“Then, yeah, you’re over the usual ovulation period. And he’s old, right?”
Laughing in relief, I tell her, “Yeah, he’s in his forties.”
“Then he probably doesn’t have any strong swimmers left. You don’t have anything to worry about, but if you’re gonna keep boinking him without a condom, you should probably get on the pill.”
“I’ll make an appointment first thing Monday morning.”
“Good. And let me know if you need anything. Like when I should avoid the living room area before I walk in and find an angry, tattooed man spanking your ass over the chair.”
“Sorry! I didn’t know that was going to happen last night.”
“It’s okay. I just tiptoed back to my room and shut the door quietly, then blasted my headphones.”
“Is it weird?” I ask with a cringe.
“Is what weird?”
“That I like when he does that, when he, you know, spanks me.”
“Girl, I own a sex shop. I’ve seen every fetish under the sun, and spanking is one of the least shocking ones.”
“You own the store?” I say in surprise.
“Yeah. It’s mine. I owe a ton of money on it, but it’s mine.”
“That’s great, Brooke.”
“Thanks. If you two get into any other fetishes, I’ll give you a discount. I carry it all – dildos, handcuffs, strap-ons, butt toys, cock rings. The list is endless.”
“Wow,” I mutter. “Have you…tried all of those things?”
“Oh yeah. How can I sell things if I don’t know how they work?”
“Even the strap-on?” I ask with a grin.
Rolling her eyes, she says, “My ex balked at first, but then he couldn’t get enough prostate stimulation. He suddenly had a new exciting way to get off but still couldn’t figure out how to get me there.”
“That sucks.”
