The snow hadn’t started yet, but the Weather Princess on the Weather Channel had promised it. Given the temperature and the feel of the night, Connie suspected the promise was going to be well-fulfilled by morning.

She was hoping other promises would be equally fulfilled.

Connie sat at one of the coveted window tables in the Cornelia Street Cafe. From time to time, Famous People walked by. One had even entered and was sipping a decaffeinated espresso at another table while other patrons pretended not to look at her. Connie had no inhibitions about staring till she was sure. After that, she was more interested in watching the street, for Kimberly.

As she thought about what she planned, she rubbed her tightly jean-clad thighs together. Just the memory of Kim’s lush body, all naked and writhing —

The tapping on the window startled her out of her reverie. Kim grinned and waved at her. She was wearing what looked to be a fake-fur coat and her legs were stockinged…her fabulous legs. Connie had paid her tab earlier, so she’d be ready. She scurried outside and they hugged.

“Sorry to be late!”

“Eight minutes? No problem.” They hugged again. Even through Kim’s fake fur and Connie’s heavy woolen coat, Connie could feel the press of Kim’s large breasts, and she thought again of those amazing, huge nipples and —

She caught herself and pulled back from the memory before she stared oozing right here in the middle of Greenwich Village.

“Well, I like to come on time.”

“And often.”

“I can’t believe we just said those things.”

“You’ll be pun-ished for it,” Connie assured her.

“There’s a woman inside staring at us.”

Connie turned. “Don’t mind her. She’s staring at you.”

“That looks like — “

“It is. Let’s go get some nasties!” She slipped her arm through Kim’s and they walked up Cornelia, bumping hips even more often than was necessary because of the disparity of their strides.

They were delayed a bit at the corner. Traffic on West Fourth Street was frantic, desperate drivers taking stupid chances on the slippery pavement in order to flee all the more quickly the growing snowfall in the city. When the traffic had finally stopped — thirty seconds after the light turned red — the pair hurried across to the pink-painted bricks of the building housing the Pink Pussycat.

Connie sensed the hesitation in Kim.

“Feel like everyone is watching you?”

“Sort of.”

“They are — because they want you. But none of them know you, so — un-fuck ’em!”

Kim giggled and let herself be led down the short flight of steps into the sex-toy emporium.

Connie closed the door behind them as Kim surveyed the store from the inside. She’d passed it often enough, but had never worked up the nerve to enter. She looked to her right. Next to the entrance was a big, locked display case filled with dildoes, in more variety and flavors than she’d ever imagined possible.

Her jaw dropped and gaped at little bitty three-inch dildoes shaped like dog dicks or fingers; double-ended dildoes and dildoes shaped like a U, with a head on each leg of the U; dildoes shaped like nothing in nature; dildoes shaped like fists or upthrust hands — somefrighteningly close to life-sized, and cock-shaped dildoes.

The last group came in sizes ranging from normal to interesting to tempting to intriguing to gigantic to Run Away – It’s Heading Toward Us!

She turned to make a remark to Connie — and found herself alone! Kim frantically scanned the few customers at the counters and spotted her diminutive teacher-cum-lover. She hurried.

Connie was examining the vibrators under the glass of the counter when Kim clutched her arm.

“Don’t leave me alone like that!” Kim hissed.

“Sorry — look at that one!”

“Huh?”

Connie tapped the glass with one perfectly manicured finger. Kim stared. It looked like a standard kit — a hand-held vibrator with various attachments. But when she looked closer, she realized two of the attachments were not the usual.

One looked like a miniature feather duster, with about two inches of fragile-looking fronds protruding.