(no subject)

It's been some weeks since Sirius's last visit to this particular Muggle shop though he's found the layout hasn't changed any in his absence. Kieren has come with a list and Sirius, it seems, has taken upon himself the role of carrying every last item they acquire from it.

At the moment, he has three magazines tucked under one arm, while juggling between two hands another disc film thing remarkably similar in appearance to the one he'd watched with Lila, yet another pair of handcuffs (this time not intended for the use of containing a rabid zombie -- or at least not in the traditional sense), a rather intricate sort of harness contraption, and a bottle of wildberry-scented lube that Sirius had insisted on in exchange for the plain, scentless kind.

There's just one thing left and Sirius stands before the shelves and shelves of available plastic cocks, of every shape, size and color imaginable. Some come with plastic testicles attached, some without and each flared at the base which, apparently, is integral for the harness.

If he's honest, Sirius is a bit overwhelmed. It's not a sensation he's used to.

"Can we get one that's just... shaped like yours?" he wonders aloud, frowning as his eyes catch on one the approximate size of a coffee canister.