MA: Mature Audiences. Warning, this post contains adult themes and discussions.
Yesterday, I was in an upscale "adult boutique," one of the larger ones in the Seattle area, buying latex-free condoms (why don't they sell those in many drugstores, anyway?) when I happened to glance over at the toys aisle and had a moment of sheer otaku zen. Down at the end of the aisle was one of those couples you only ever see in fanfiction. He was in his early forties, tall, wearing a cowboy hat that would have been embarassing on anyone with a hint of shame left. On him, though, it just made him look Texan. (Did I just repeat myself?) She was Japanese, mid-20s, tiny and fit comfortably in the crook of his elbow. Pretty, too, in a soon-to-fade-flower sort of way.
They were all over each other; she was having just as much of a hard time keeping her hands off him as he was off her, and they were looking through the anal sex toys. From down the aisle I could hear her voice. "No, this one. It's bigger. I think I'd like this one." She held a blister pack with a toy that would probably intimidate a lot of people (not me, though; I have sex toys the size of fire hydrants. But that's me), he nodded and they brought them up to the counter while I paid for my purchase. (You have to love a condom brand named 'Reality'. "Reality may become twisted during intercourse." "Always use a new Reality with every sex act." "Keep Reality out of the reach of children.")
They walked up, still glued together. She wore a nice perfume. I'm old enough, and happily married enough, to keep the psychic jangle of jealously down below a dull rumble, but I had to salute the fellow. It's nice to know *someone* is living the Otaku Dream.
Yesterday, I was in an upscale "adult boutique," one of the larger ones in the Seattle area, buying latex-free condoms (why don't they sell those in many drugstores, anyway?) when I happened to glance over at the toys aisle and had a moment of sheer otaku zen. Down at the end of the aisle was one of those couples you only ever see in fanfiction. He was in his early forties, tall, wearing a cowboy hat that would have been embarassing on anyone with a hint of shame left. On him, though, it just made him look Texan. (Did I just repeat myself?) She was Japanese, mid-20s, tiny and fit comfortably in the crook of his elbow. Pretty, too, in a soon-to-fade-flower sort of way.
They were all over each other; she was having just as much of a hard time keeping her hands off him as he was off her, and they were looking through the anal sex toys. From down the aisle I could hear her voice. "No, this one. It's bigger. I think I'd like this one." She held a blister pack with a toy that would probably intimidate a lot of people (not me, though; I have sex toys the size of fire hydrants. But that's me), he nodded and they brought them up to the counter while I paid for my purchase. (You have to love a condom brand named 'Reality'. "Reality may become twisted during intercourse." "Always use a new Reality with every sex act." "Keep Reality out of the reach of children.")
They walked up, still glued together. She wore a nice perfume. I'm old enough, and happily married enough, to keep the psychic jangle of jealously down below a dull rumble, but I had to salute the fellow. It's nice to know *someone* is living the Otaku Dream.
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