Child in a Sex Store

Could you tell me how old you were when you touched yourself and felt ashamed? If you never felt ashamed you must be of the male race. Can you recall a time someone told you it’s okay to give yourself the pleasure you desire?

I stare into the window of a storefront, named Harts Desires. The letters are in cursive and white font, elegant and professional. Today so happens to be my day, the one day out of the week I can make my own decisions of what my eyes stumble upon. I step inside and instantly smell strawberries and latex. I’m greeted by a perky voice coming from the back of the store.

“I’ll be with you in a moment.”

I hope to god that voice forgets about me. My first impression is chaos; there are metal racks of various sizes of pink and black packaging. From the ceiling there are tiny penises hanging by their testicles on pieces of long white string. There are white neon signs of outlines of men and woman on the walls. I walk over to one of the displays. A pyramid of colorful and odd shaped gadgets, they curve upwards, downwards, and all carry an intimidating appearance. I pick up a small pink lipstick tube, the outer shell felt smooth and forgiving. There was a button on the top, but the tightness in my chest told me not to press it.

“That’s a bullet vibrator. It’s used as a more discreet way of pleasure. There’s a lot of power packed in there if I do say so myself,” Kim assures with a wink.

The voice who greeted me carries a face. Pasty white skin with soft feminine expression. She winks at me as if she's my grandmother slipping me birthday money. She’s wearing a blonde bob that poorly compliments her head shape. She has on a black apron with a white nametag in the upper right corner, her name is Kim. She’s staring at me waiting for a response or some type of sign that gives her the notion that I’m a buying customer.

“Do you have any pamphlets that explain the differences amongst these here?” I ask with my upmost adultish voice and turn my body toward the wall of colorful silicones.

“Of course!”

Kim rushes to grab the pamphlet as if this is the most exciting thing to happen today. She comes back with two, one for a female and one for a male. I assume she believes I have a boyfriend or some type of male relationship that deserves to have their manhood questioned.

“So, these here are part of the Female Desires section,”

As she opens the pamphlet and hands it to me, she points to the section that matches what’s in front of me.

“We offer vibrators, dildos, anal toys, and almost everything else in between.”

Her voice is upbeat and reassuring, but the words that flow through her lips aren’t answering the questions filling up in my mind. I stand silent as I think to myself how someone can shamelessly express their sexuality into an open space. As I’m holding the pamphlets I asked for, “anal toys” is the first thing that came to my mind and unfortunately came out of my mouth.

“Are you looking for any specific anal toy,” Kim asks as it is her job to.

A no flew from my lips automatically, but it wasn’t the type of “no” that was convincing enough to end this sex education session.

“Well if you’re interested, I can show you our anal toy section,” Kim says this as she ready's her body to walk towards this threat to my well-being.

“No! No, thank you.”

This sudden dramatic response stops time for a second. I’ve regained control of my decisions and realize I have the option to leave.

“I’m not looking to buy anything right now, but, uh thank you. Kim.”

I slowly back out of the store as I panic to find the words to break it to Kim that I must go. I smile big and appreciatively and throw myself out the door I entered through. The fresh air hits my airway, anxiety vibrates my hands and feet. I don’t look back, I continue forward. I’m running away from my shame, my overwhelming shame and confusion of what it is to step into womanhood.