“Great.” Jennifer rummaged in her bag and, like a much lewder Mary Poppins, produced a sexual aid of impressive length and girth, along with a complex arrangement of straps andpanels.
These she tossed to Audrey, who completely failed to catch them. “When you said you were going to pull the strap-on out of your luggage, I thought you meant…metaphorically?”
“Who would a metaphorical strap-on get off?”
“I thought you just meant sex in general.”
“I’m also up for sex in general, whatever that’s a metaphor for. But I brought this because I thought we might like it.”
Crouching nervously, Audrey retrieved the strap part, since Jennifer still had the on part firmly in her possession. “I mean, I might? But I’ve never actually—I mean, you know the whole…” Audrey tried to mimebeing penetratedwith, she thought, remarkable success.
“Are you having some kind of breakdown?” asked Jennifer.
“No, I’m miming being penetrated.”
“Well, no wonder you don’t like it then.”
“Very funny. The point is, I don’t like it, my ex had political objections to—”
“Political objections to getting off?”
“Not to getting off,” Audrey explained. “Just to getting off in what she felt was a phallocentric way.”
Jennifer eyed the glittery blue-and-purpled swirled cylinder in her hand. “Whose phallus is this? A fucking unicorn’s?”
It was not a good time to be thinking about Natalie. Then again, it never had been. So, instead, Audrey glared at Jennifer. “It’s going to be mine if you stop stalling and hand it over.”
Jennifer stopped stalling and handed it over. And, for the next five minutes, Audrey failed to put on a strap-on while insisting she didn’t need any help.
“Look,” said Jennifer. “I’d like to get laid sometime thiselection cycle.”
“And this”—Audrey gestured at her partially adorned crotch—“hasn’t dampened your ardour?”
“Not at all. You’re being pointlessly stubborn, which is very adorable. And your tits are bouncing around and I’m a woman of simple tastes.”
“You really are,” agreed Audrey, finally letting Jennifer help. Which she did very efficiently. And that, in itself, was not completely unsexy. At last, Jennifer stepped away. And Audrey—feeling slightly self-conscious—put her hands on her hips and struck a pose. “Well, how do I look?”
Jennifer’s mouth twitched. “Standing like that? Like the porn remake ofCaptain Marvel.”
Still slightly self-conscious, Audrey raised one clenched fist over her head like she was about to burst into the stratosphere on an emergency sex mission.
“Audrey Lane, what is wrong with you?”
“I’ve never done this before. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”
“Not that,” Jennifer told her.
“Seriously, though.” Audrey withdrew her Carol Danvers fist. “What if I do this wrong?”
“It’s not that hard. People have been doing it for centuries. Many of them straight men, and they fucking suck.”
Deciding to leave the galaxy to solve its own problems, Audrey went and sat on the bed. And, shedding clothes with her usual un-fuck-giveness, Jennifer joined her.
“Look,” she said. “If it’s not fun for you, we stop and we do the things we already know we like.”
“But if I can’t, what about in the future?”
“I’ll do it my fucking self. Now do I need to remind you of the no talking rule?”
