Flabbergasmic interchangeable attachments 0
I came home early to have lunch with my new boyfriend, Tex, who is on canine anti-inflammatories for his back (I wear him out). He greeted me with the usual dose of unconditional love (snout in the crotch). What happened after that was pure coincidence (there are no coincidences, just damned good timing).
The Spitzer press conference had just started and I was sucked in. Great, another middle-aged white guy sex scandal. Yippee. Please take my mind off the campaign antics, the economy, and my love life.
There was a knock at the door. I cocked my head. Tex cocked his. Then we heard, “UPS.” I signed for my package only to discover the Cadillac of all vibrators had arrived.
What can brown do for you? Today, apparently, a lot. I toyed with the idea of a test drive prior to going back to work, but the Spitzer coverage distracted me. This was my most expensive self-pleasuring apparatus ever – my high-priced call girl/new boyfriend.
After work, I called my girlfriend who recommended the product. “There are nine attachments, where the hell do I begin,” I asked.
She recommended the grape head attachment and asked me what I was going to name my device. “I call mine Brutus,” she admitted.
In the past, I always called my vibrator “Her-man.” Today, I think the most obvious choice is to call my “new boyfriend” Client Number Nine.
The pleasure was worth every penny and I won’t lose my job.