I really hated everything, especially when I saw the slider across the top went from 0 to EGG-STREME.
“Egg puns should not be allowed in sex toys,” I told it.
The egg stopped waving and pointed up at the slider. Another word bubble appeared. FORGET YOUR EGG-SPECTATIONS.
I almost threw my phone across the room.
Instead, I ignored the egg and moved the slider up to a three.
Nothing happened.
I frowned. “Of course it’s broken. I don’t know why I’m even doooooh my god.”
The Magic Egg began to vibrate.
And it was glorious.
Two minutes later, I was up to a five and writhing on my bed, hard as a fucking rock, groaning incoherently about scrambled eggs being my favorite thing in the world, and any vegetarians or vegans I might know could fuck right the hell off.
I panted as my phone buzzed in my hand.
I brushed the slider back down as I opened the text. The vibrations ceased instantly.
I’m here. Ready?
I blinked. “Oh no.”
I jumped up from the bed and frantically tore through my closet. I found the jeans and shirt I was going to wear and threw them on the bed. I picked my briefs up off the floor and pulled them on before dressing quickly. I grabbed my wallet and phone and keys before giving myself a once-over in the mirror. My eyes were dark, and I licked my lips. I looked fine. No one would be able to tell I’d just fucked myself with a toy from Amazon.
It wasn’t until I was halfway down the path in front of the house that I realized I still had a Magic Egg in my ass.
I stumbled.
Jeremy looked concerned, starting to get out of the Jeep. “What the hell? Are you okay?”
“Fine!” I squeaked. “So fine! Just—I need to go back inside for a minute!”
And then I had the most terrible thought that, in the end, would be entirely blamed on Sanford Stewart.
What if I didn’t go back inside?
Oh, what a wicked thing to do.
No one would have to know.
Unless I told them.
I grinned at Jeremy.
His eyes widened as he sunk slowly back into his seat. “What is going on?”
“Nothing,” I said innocently, and I fucking slinked to his slut machine. “Nothing at all.”
I DIDN’T turn it on as we drove downtown, but I was constantly aware it was there. Every time we hit a pothole, every time I shifted in my seat, I couldn’t help but hiss out a breath. The third or fourth time I did this Jeremy stopped his babbling about whatever and asked, “Are you okay? Did you hurt yourself?”
“Nope,” I said quickly. “Not hurt. I’m wonderful. Perfect, even. Like you wouldn’t believe. Do you like buying things on Amazon? I like buying things on Amazon, even if I don’t buy said things and they are given to me as a gift instead.”
“Are you… asking me to buy you something?”