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live animal. One full circle around my table and I resigned myself to the fact that I’d have to open it. The box came addressed to me, after all.

And truth be told, I was just the tiniest bit excited to find out what was in the box. Lenora Sutter, the owner of the company, had a reputation for having high-quality staples and some of the most amazing products you couldn’t find elsewhere.

Ripping the box open, I found a note above the tissue paper.

Amelia shouldn’t be the only one getting some. Xoxo, Vee

Of course. Who else would send me a sex toy but my youngest sister, Vee? Okay, well, Amelia would too, but she was otherwise occupied with a husband and a new pregnancy. I shook my head at Vee, though she obviously couldn’t see me. Putting the card aside, I opened the tissue paper and took out an object that had me perplexed. The thing was Barney purple and had several arms, legs, and buttons, all encased in a silicone shell so smooth my skin wept tears of jealousy.

I held the device outstretched between my thumb and finger like it might bite. And knowing so little about sex toys, maybe it could bite. Wasn’t that a fetish? Reaching with my other hand, I found my wineglass and took a not-so-healthy large swig, finding that I needed the liquid courage to continue. I set the thing—vibrator, dildo?—down on the table and rummaged around the box until I found some directions. Yes, I needed step-by-step directions to know how to work my new toy.

Once I’d given the little booklet a thorough read-through, I had a better idea of how to use it, though I wasn’t sure I wanted vibration in all the places it promised. My wineglass was empty again, so I refilled it, finishing the bottle, and headed to the living room.

“We’re going to do this,” I announced to the room. And to myself.

I put the toy on the coffee table and hustled about my house, finding candles, a lighter, and my personal laptop. The candles would set the mood, the wine would provide the courage, and the laptop would play a fun porno to set the scene. I’d always said: if you were going to do something, do it right.

Once I logged in to a site Amelia had told me about a few years ago but never visited, my eyes nearly fell out of my head. My God. There were so many categories of porn. Did I want knotting play? What the fuck was that? Did I prefer threesomes? I tilted my head, considering. Nah. I should probably just start out with something more vanilla. Something to ease my way into this pool of porn. Sitting down on the couch, I found a title that looked like it might work. I hit play and settled in.

Apparently actual acting wasn’t required as the sex started nearly thirty seconds into the scene.

“Oh yeah. That’s it, baby. Mmm. Right there.”

The female’s voice was so breathy, she’d give Britney Spears a run for her money. I didn’t particularly care for her high-pitched squeal while she was getting rammed from behind by Fabio’s little brother, but there was something so elicit about watching two people have sex that the porno made me just the tiniest bit excited despite my best intentions. The thrusting picked up speed and soon the woman was screaming at the top of her lungs like he was murdering her. Interesting. I didn’t think I’d ever reacted with quite that much enthusiasm.

My ex, may he die in the hellfire of city living, always harped on my lack of adventure, my lack of sexual desire, my lack of cooking skills. Apparently, I had lots of lacks. I was the only captain in the sheriff’s department in this small county, with aspirations of someday being the sheriff. I had grown-up responsibilities, which he just couldn’t wrap his brain around. So eff him and the tall, leggy blonde he rode out on.

I could be adventurous. What’s more adventurous than trying out a giant purple vibrator/dildo combo, watching Pornhub, and finishing a bottle of wine on my one night off? Hell, I didn’t even lock my doors anymore. Old man Jim had barely been mobile the last few years, so I hadn’t seen signs of human life since I moved in a few years back. I was living life on the edge over here, let me tell you.

The rest of the scene played out until the very last orgasm while I sipped my wine. Taking a deep breath, I stood up to take off my tank top and shorts, sitting back down naked, then hopping back up. I draped the shorts on the seat cushion of the couch. I may be wild and adventurous, but being sanitary still mattered.

I hit play on the next movie that cued up, the laptop screen glowing bright in my dark house. A forest ranger approached a woman in hiking gear in broad daylight. Now that was a guy I could actually get behind. Or under. Or over, didn’t matter to me. Tall and just the right amount of muscle to fill out his khakis nicely. Even his hair was delicious: dark and long enough on top to give you a good handful when you tugged on it. I wished I could see his eyes, but they were covered with a pair of aviator sunglasses. I giggled, thinking I was probably the only woman watching this to wish she could see the dude’s eyes.

“Ma’am? Did you need some help?” His voice flowed through my speakers and inspired me to grab Barney—as I’d now named my new toy—and press that button, bringing my new little rabbit friend to life.

I spread my legs and put my feet up on the coffee table, careful not to knock my computer. I didn’t want to miss a second of Mr. Forest Ranger and hopefully his thick tree trunk. The poor hiker seemed to fall magically right

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