Satisfaction Guaranteed

by Karelia Stetz-Waters

“I remember,” Selena began, her voice trembling, “when Ruth told me she’d named her clitoris Belinda.” There were eulogy mistakes. This was one of them. “To Belinda!” someone said.

is the past tense attached to the love or to the person? The person is past but the love isn’t.”

The smile that lit Selena’s face was almost worth the thought of spending a month working in a bankrupt sex toy store while her parents filled the gallery they co-owned with live alpacas.

Cade did not want to feel, but she took the dildo and slapped it against her palm. “Sturdy.” Cade felt herself blush. She hoped Selena didn’t notice. “Big.”

It’s the clitoris. Obviously. But a lot of people don’t know it looks like that, so it’s a great demo. My clit is named Artemisia. And here we’ve got bakeware, butt plugs, butt plugs with tails…”

People needed to be touched. Cade had just had many long nights and no girlfriends. She was like one of those dogs no one played with at the pound. They got clingy or they bit people.

Cade picked up the protein shake on the table beside her. Selena took it from her hand, examined the label, then handed it back. “People drink these things because they hate themselves,” she said. “Don’t hate yourself.”

Cade held up her painting. It looked like a symmetrical daisy with a ring of clitorises around the edge. “I love it,” Selena said, “and I think we need to talk about anatomy.”

“If I weren’t celibate,” Selena said, “I would eat you like a peach.”