It was nine-fifty when I arrived at the sex shop. The sun was long gone and a light snow was coming down. Damn, it was cold. I kept saying it, one day this city would be sunny enough for people to hit the beaches, and the next it would freeze the crap out of everyone.
I pushed the door open and stepped inside, the warm air of the shop washing over me.
Near the back wall, two women were browsing the strap-on section. Both looked to be in their late twenties. One had short dark hair and a tight black crop top that showed off a flat stomach and the underside of her full breasts. The other was taller, with long wavy hair and a form-fitting turtleneck that clung to her curves. They were examining a few different harnesses and dildos, occasionally leaning in to whisper and laugh quietly.
