Jaded enough, at least, that a trip to the sex-toy store isn't really anything particularly special. It's just like shopping for anything else..."Let's see, I need a set of nipple clamps, better pick up a dildo while I'm here...hmm, now I have to go put gas in my car and drop off the movies at Blockbuster..."
But not so jaded that nothing cranks my motor.
Last week, I bought a very nice leather crop as a Christmas gift for Shelly, the new and utterly unexpected person in my life. Rather than buy it at a toy store, where it would no doubt be higher in cost and lower in quality, I went shopping for her at a tack store.
I've never been in a tack store before. And once I walked in the door, it was a positively pornographic.
My God. The leather, the crops, the whips...I'd barely made it three steps in the door before tmy heart was racing and my hands were sweating and my...never mind. I felt like a kid who's never been to a candy store--nay, never even imagined a candy store...before.
So now I'm on their mailing list. :) And the world is a slightly more dangerous place...