There's a running joke where I live, with my two housemates, that they owe me BJs because I've gone out of my way to do stuff for them. The other day one of them came into my bedroom to remind me about rent. She's gay, poly, and has a girlfriend. As I'm writing the cheque, she asked me for a favour. I said, "Fine, but that's just one more BJ you owe me." My packer was on my desk nearby, so I picked it up and tossed it casually onto the bed, saying, "Get to work." She laughed and said, "Well, I'm running late for work. Do you want me to take it with me so I can do them between sessions with my clients?"
This is just one reason why I love my housemates.
Now, back when I lived with my mother and had a girlfriend, we had to wash the sheets and...well, our 'little friend'. I just threw it all in the washing machine. We went out to get something from the hardware store and forgot about it. I remembered on the way back home, and that my mother was home. When we arrived I ran to the washing machine. Empty. And right beside the dryer was a laundry basket. My sheets were folded up nice and neat with the bright pink phake phallus sitting on top. Mum laughed. I died a little inside.
