But….it CAN’T be!’ she stuttered, although in truth she had suspected that it must be something like that figure. ‘We……we just got carried away.’ ‘Well, I’ll be closing in five minutes’ said Jason, ‘You said you would settle up with your credit card?’ Annabell went numb. ‘I…….I wasn’t expecting to run up a bill of that size’ she whispered, ‘My husband would kill me when the credit card statement arrived. He……he doesn’t believe in gambling.’ Jason was unimpressed. ‘I’m afraid you should have thought of that before you spent so much trying to recoup your losses’ he said coldly, ‘I have to balance the shop’s books.’ Annabell returned to her daughter in tears and the pair chattered animatedly to each other for a couple of minutes. Finally, Annabell returned to the counter. ‘Could you possibly give me a few days to arrange a bank personal loan in my own name?’ she implored, ‘That way, I can keep this from my husband.’ Jason shook his head. ‘I’m sorry,’ he replied, ‘But if you leave the. ..." I've just seen the toys on the bedside table. I leave my purse by the TV and walk over to them. I pick up a slender glass plug. You move to talk, but it's clear from my glance that I'm doing all the talking here. "Oh. My mistake. You'd know all about anal play. You dirty, dirty man. Quite a selection of toys here. This rather fetching plug. An arab strap." I delicately pick up an exquisite leather and stainless steel harness. It's like a tiny bridle. Designed to encircle and enclose. And tighten. Click by click. "Expensive. No pink plastic here. I wonder how you buy this stuff? Mail order? You can't have it delivered to the office. And if you had it delivered to home, your wife would know. I guess she doesn't know about your hobby, does she? So maybe you walk into an upscale sex shop. It's probably called an emporium. Wearing your overcoat. You feel you're exactly the same as all the grubby little perverted losers in their raincoats, popping into their local seedy sex shop..
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