pearls around the neck 87
Brief… underwear for men sporting two eyes and a moustache, Mr.-the-wearer providing the nose, of
course, through the cleverly though-out hole. It was absolutely irresistible. I couldn’t stop laughing, my
eyes welled up with tears, and yet although I didn’t realize it then a slow melancholy was coming over
Then Gwenn presented a whole series of C Rings, Bullets, Cyber Flickers and Anal Beads… did someone
change the subject? Had we moved on, without transition, to hardware or firearms supplies? And when
Gwenn pulled out a collection of small towels decorated with crude libidinous illustrations: “essential to
wipe sperm stains after they come!” I left the room. I had lost my appetite; they could keep their chocolate
cake all for themselves.
When I came back, Marcy had taken her pants off. The beautiful Marcy was now flaunting her sculptural
legs enhanced by liposuction and laser vein-therapy last winter the perfect testimonial for her esthetic
surgery practice. She slipped on a tiny pair of garter panties whose most intriguing feature was a red
switch… the girls were guffawing while cheering her on: “Marcy! Marcy! Marcy! Switch the damn thing
on!!” Marcy did as instructed and pressed on the red switch. Since I had stepped out for a breath of fresh
air, Gwenn brought me up to speed on what was going on. “You see, these panties are equipped with a
vibrator placed inside the seams and right where the vagina is. This way, you can please yourself while doing
the housework… while vacuuming or ironing.” And what happens if the mailman rings at the door with
certified mail? My mind was clicking.
Why? This toy wasn’t dumb at all. I know hundreds of cranky women desperately in need of a good screw
who would become thanks to Gwenn’s panties true rays of sunshine, killing people with charm and
sweetness: the bitch at the post office, my husband’s secretary, the uptight lady who handled my teenager’s
braces… I threw my arms around Gwenn’s neck, promising her she deserved the Nobel Peace Prize, because
if every single woman with a frustrated clit could wear this thingamajig well-hidden in their underwear, all
the time, we would live in a world with so much compassion the Dalai-Lama would be forced to an early,
albeit well-deserved, retirement.
But Gwenn only threw me a dark look, and so did my friends… Further research into vibrator units later
explained their lack of enthusiasm responding to my promises of a Swedish prize. But Gwenn was a
resourceful woman.
In no time at all, she’d produced another vibrator, that you could plug in your car this time, very
practical if you got stuck in traffic (was anyone going to mention there was NEVER any traffic jam in this
godforsaken small southern town… Well, they might just have to create one!). Discreet, cleverly named
Nano-vibe, terribly posh in its techno-design metal box created by Shiri Zinn (no kiddin’!). Yes, Shiri Zinn,
the one and only true guru in the field of Sex Toys & Co, with more dedicated active web pages than the
creator of Google himself!
And then, my dear ladies… No, I’m not going to talk about the chocolate cake; it’d been melting on the
table like a morning boner in a cold shower, then Gwenn, a smart lady who knew how to pull off a grand
finale; yes, Gwenn, a smart lady indeed who knew we had to have had a few drinks and be fully uninhibited
to react to this toy (rather than its dear price); well, Gwenn exhibited the “Turn Me On Panties”.
With an air fully suited to the circumstances, Gwenn presented her star product: “These panties are made
of the softest lace, the silkiest satin and ribbons, still, inside the panties are 2 vibrating bullets operated by
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