She’d given it to me the previous night. “Happy Solstice,” she said, handing me a six-inch package tied up with green ribbon. “Go on, open it!”
I hefted it in my hand. “It’s not a s*x toy, is it?”
Lilith tapped her foot. “Honestly, do you think I never listen to what you say?”
We’d had a bit of a bust-up over my nineteenth birthday present, which had been a box containing, among other things, fur-lined handcuffs, n****e clamps, and a terrifyingly large purple dildo. And she hadn’t warned me. Even two years on, I wanted to curl up and die at the memory of opening it in front of my then boyfriend and his rather conservative mother and father, in the middle of a crowded restaurant. Needless to say, the boyfriend and I split up well before I reached twenty. Although come to think of it, I h
