I had just finished a long client call when the doorbell rang. I opened the door expecting my usual fabric samples. Instead, I was greeted by a very confused delivery man holding an enormous box.

“Delivery for Amy Thompson,” he said, struggling with the weight. “It’s… uh… marked as fragile and adult.”

I stared at the box. The return address was some company called “Pleasure Palace.” My face turned bright red.

“That is not for me!” I hissed.

The delivery guy shrugged. “It has your name and apartment number. Sign here.”

I signed quickly and dragged the massive box inside, slamming the door behind me.

My hands were shaking as...