Ten
Jenny closed her eyes as the meditation podcast started on her phone. ‘Breathe in … and out,’ came the sleepy-sounding male voice. Obediently, Jenny did as she was told, willing her body to unwind and relax. She’d been trying, unsuccessfully, to master meditation on and off over the last year. She wanted to wrestle her racing thoughts and stress into submission, but for some reason her thoughts never stayed in ‘the zone’. It wasn’t for any lack of trying—she desperately wanted to float on that bloody fluffy white cloud this guy kept talking to her about, but within a few minutes of starting, her mind would wander and she’d forget to listen to the next step and end up still awake by the end of the track.Twenty minutes to blissful sleep meditation,my arse. She reached over and turned off her phone, lying on her back to stare up at the ceiling with a frustrated huff.
Just go and open it.The thought came loud and clear, making her frown.You know you want to. The curiosity is eating at you.Jenny refused to turn her head to the doorway of her ensuite where the laundry basket stood. ‘Absolutely not,’ she growled.
The chat with her online buddy resurfaced and, not for the first time, she wished he had a profile photo. She had no idea what he looked like and that really should have been a huge red flag, only it wasn’t. Without an image in her mind, their conversations felt … different, somehow. He could be anyone—maybe he was a three-hundred-kilo housebound computer geek; maybe he was just an average, everyday shy guy with a dad bod and low self-esteem. Still, she couldn’t help but wonder. A sudden image of a brown-haired, hazel-eyed face flashed through her mind and she caught her breath. She had to admit she kind of missed seeing Nick. Somehow he’d managed to get under her skin and she often found herself thinking about him. She’d even been tempted to head to the pub just so she could possibly bump into him again, but she always chickened out.
Orgasms make you sleep better—do it for your stress levels and insomnia.
Okay, so maybe there wassomescientific evidence behind this theory, and lord knows she was sick and tired of lying awake at night stressing …Oh, for goodness’ sake.
Jenny threw back the covers and stomped across the room to retrieve the box from the laundry hamper. Despite her reservations, she found herself taking out the small device. It didn’t look all that scary; maybe she’d ordered the wrong thing?She’d shied away from the disturbing array of intimidating-looking penis-shaped objects the site had offered. She didn’t particularly fancy walking funny for a few days after using one of them. This one had looked far less intimidating, like a computer mouse.
Placing it on the bed beside her, she opened the instruction sheet, which folded out to the size of an enormous road map of Europe and was filled with every conceivable language except, it seemed, English.The Stimulator, the brochure boasted,is a powerful advancement in pleasurable stimulation. Whisper-quiet and discreet. Designed to stimulate with unlimited possibilities.
Well, that sounded … promising. She located the right instructions, but they were completely unhelpful as to exactlyhowyou were supposed to use the stupid thing.
Well, it can’t be rocket science.
After a moment of investigation, she worked out how to turn it on, then gave a snort at the irony.
A low hum sounded and a gentle vibration ran through her palm.That’s not too bad, she thought, lying back against her pillows and pulling the blankets up under her chin. At the first contact with the sensitive area that had definitely not had any significant contact for a long time, Jenny jumped.Okay,so far so good. She pressed the button on the side again and the vibrations got a little stronger, as did the sound. Footsteps on the staircase alerted her to one of the girls coming up to their bedroom and she quickly pressed the button to turn the device off, only for the gadget to speed up more. What the hell? She pressed it again and the speed of the vibrations increased and the hum grew even louder.What the actual f—
The footsteps halted and Jenny frantically continued to press the button—it was the power switch, but apparently it had to go through a complete cycle of speeds before it could be turned off.Shit, shittity, shit!The hum had now turned into the sound of a small engine revving for take-off and Jenny sucked in a startled breath as the vibrations suddenly hit something rather unexpectedly pleasing as they continued to speed up. ‘Mother F—’ Jenny gasped, as one hand grasped the blankets and the other frantically hit the power button.
‘Mum? Are you okay?’ Brittany’s concerned voice sounded at the door.
Click, click, click. How many freaking modes did this bloody thing have? Jenny clasped her thighs together tightly in an attempt to muffle the noise, but it only intensified the vibrations, which led to a sudden explosion of stars before her eyes as a soundless cry of pleasure escaped, leaving her body sagging like a rag doll. Then, with one last click, everything went blessedly silent, just as the door cracked open the tiniest bit and her daughter stuck her head in.
‘I thought I heard you calling out?’
‘No. No … maybe I was having a dream or something,’ Jenny said, pushing her hair out of her face as she scrambled to sit up, grateful the only light coming into the room was from the hallway. ‘Everything’s fine.’
‘Okay then. Goodnight.’
‘’Night,’ Jenny called, before collapsing back onto her pillows and letting out a long sigh.Discreet? Compared to what? A fighter jet landing inside the house?Jenny squeezed her eyes shut, feeling humiliated. How utterly embarrassing itwould have been to get caught by her daughter doing …that. The nurse side of her gave a disappointed roll of her eyes at her priggish reaction. Women’s sexual health was something she often had to educate patients about, and yet, sneaking about, ordering things off the internet and hiding them, felt anything but normal or natural. She’d throw it away tomorrow, she decided with a determined nod and closed her eyes.
When she woke up the next morning, Jenny realised she’d had a solid eight hours’ sleep. That never happened. Her gaze lingered on the basket in the corner and she gave a small grunt. It could have been a fluke. The only logical thing to do was to try it again and test the results to make sure. Maybe throwing it outwasbeing a little hasty. Maybe she’d hold off for a few more days … just to see.
