Risky Business is the movie where Tom Cruise dances around in his underwear. Frisky Business is the shop off of Highway 70 in Raleigh that sells edible underwear. But other than the name and the underwear, the two have--sadly--nothing else in common. I have to admit, I would be interested in a Tom Cruise blow up doll. The life size cut out of him I have can hurt.
My dear friend Michelle is an expert in her own right, and when I over heard a discussion of sex shops, I made sure to butt my way into the conversation. Frisky Business was having a huge sale on a particular line of products. For the sake of privacy, let's just say it was leather and flogs. Because that's what it was.
If you haven't visited Cherry Pie on 15/501 in Chapel Hill, I highly recommend you stop by. But if you're near Raleigh, I fully suggest a trip to Frisky Business. The layout is less sketchy than even Cherry Pie (meaning less dark corners).
Michelle went to the sale sextion, and I went on the hunt for the Fleshlight. I had heard tales of the legend of the Fleshlight. You heard me. It was that serious. Apparently the best thing out there. Sketchily enough, they had a few of the black, flashlight-shaped toy wrapped in clear plastic bags. The top was folded over and stapled. To keep things more sanitary??
I have to admit, as a gay guy, buying sex toys with women lustily gazing out at me isn't exactly a purchase incentive for me. But at least those toys had a box! This thing was wrapped like a bag of peanuts bought from a roadside stand.
Michelle pulled me away from my slow, reluctant decision making to discuss her finds. We eventually started discussing some strategies and even discussed the male "g-spot." It wasn't a problem until I spoke. As loud as my voice is, I have an equally uncanny ability to not realize exactly how loud I am.
And one isle over, the only other person in Risky Business let out a loud "Pfftt--" a poor excuse to cover up a laugh.
I grabbed Michelle, pulled her back to get the Fleshlight, and went to check out in shame.
The butch lady behind the counter rang up the purchase and set a miniature zip lock bag of cocaine on the counter beside my purchase.
"It's not coke," she said watching my face. "It's corn starch to keep the toy clean."
"Oh. Awesome."
Of course I took advantage of the joke and hinted that I would have been pleasantly surprised if they were giving away complimentary g's of nose candy. Too easy of a joke, yes. But again, at this point, I'm not extremely comfortable in these sex stores. This was only my second time. So you'll have to let that one slide.
"You know this comes in different molds," she said before she took my card.
"You could get the mouth, the pussy, or the ass. In Mocha or Pink. This one is," she said as she fiddled with the tag, "Pink Butt.
"Do you want that one? We can get you the pussy, " she said assuming I was straight. "Or Mocha Mouth. Or Mocha Butt," she rattled off in a ridiculous tone. Like, Guess what? Chicken-Butt!
I stopped her in the middle of her Chick-Butt sales pitch: "Oh no, I'm totally gay. I wanted Pink Butt."
Plus the fake mouth completely creeped me out. Bluh.
My dear friend Michelle is an expert in her own right, and when I over heard a discussion of sex shops, I made sure to butt my way into the conversation. Frisky Business was having a huge sale on a particular line of products. For the sake of privacy, let's just say it was leather and flogs. Because that's what it was.
If you haven't visited Cherry Pie on 15/501 in Chapel Hill, I highly recommend you stop by. But if you're near Raleigh, I fully suggest a trip to Frisky Business. The layout is less sketchy than even Cherry Pie (meaning less dark corners).
Michelle went to the sale sextion, and I went on the hunt for the Fleshlight. I had heard tales of the legend of the Fleshlight. You heard me. It was that serious. Apparently the best thing out there. Sketchily enough, they had a few of the black, flashlight-shaped toy wrapped in clear plastic bags. The top was folded over and stapled. To keep things more sanitary??
I have to admit, as a gay guy, buying sex toys with women lustily gazing out at me isn't exactly a purchase incentive for me. But at least those toys had a box! This thing was wrapped like a bag of peanuts bought from a roadside stand.
Michelle pulled me away from my slow, reluctant decision making to discuss her finds. We eventually started discussing some strategies and even discussed the male "g-spot." It wasn't a problem until I spoke. As loud as my voice is, I have an equally uncanny ability to not realize exactly how loud I am.
I believe the unfortunate sentence that did it this time was, "But you see, the female asshole--"
And one isle over, the only other person in Risky Business let out a loud "Pfftt--" a poor excuse to cover up a laugh.
I grabbed Michelle, pulled her back to get the Fleshlight, and went to check out in shame.
The butch lady behind the counter rang up the purchase and set a miniature zip lock bag of cocaine on the counter beside my purchase.
"It's not coke," she said watching my face. "It's corn starch to keep the toy clean."
"Oh. Awesome."
Of course I took advantage of the joke and hinted that I would have been pleasantly surprised if they were giving away complimentary g's of nose candy. Too easy of a joke, yes. But again, at this point, I'm not extremely comfortable in these sex stores. This was only my second time. So you'll have to let that one slide.
"You know this comes in different molds," she said before she took my card.
"You could get the mouth, the pussy, or the ass. In Mocha or Pink. This one is," she said as she fiddled with the tag, "Pink Butt.
"Do you want that one? We can get you the pussy, " she said assuming I was straight. "Or Mocha Mouth. Or Mocha Butt," she rattled off in a ridiculous tone. Like, Guess what? Chicken-Butt!
I stopped her in the middle of her Chick-Butt sales pitch: "Oh no, I'm totally gay. I wanted Pink Butt."
Plus the fake mouth completely creeped me out. Bluh.
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1 comment:
I belive that 'voice' has gotten us in trouble a time or two! I have to admit...the fleshylight thingy is quite disturbing. I mean if it popped out from underneath the bed with a little clown wig on it would be every bit as scary as Poltergeist!!!
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