Giggling Into the Pillow Read Free

unusual. Our roads had only a passing acquaintance with
anything horizontal or level, and anyone new or foolish enough to
come through at any speed more blinding than 10 mph was just
begging to lose his truck's contents, his engine mounts, his back
teeth, and his kidneys. Toolboxes, tires, old appliances, car
parts, dead animals, nearly dead animals, shoes, bed frames, even
the odd novelty, but, to date, none quite as novel as this. I
started the water boiling as Teres came in to chop tomatoes.
“Nope,” I said. “We've got all the dicks we need.”
“Hello the house!” The front door slammed
open and our roommate Dave made his presence known. He strode into
the kitchen and tossed the muddy dildo in question onto the counter
like an Italian salami. “Found you a replacement,” he said. It
looked disturbingly real, apart from the size and the suction cup
on the base. It had testicles.
“Thanks, we were just wondering when you
were gonna come by and fling a muddy marital aid at us.”
“I know, that's why I hurried. What's for
supper?”
“Spaghetti. Why did you bring this
here?”
“Ha! Who else's would it be? You didn't lose
it?”
“No, I try and keep better care of my
genitalia, and I don't think Teres is shopping around.”
Dave turned to face Teresa, who was ignoring
both of us and our new unit magnificently. “Really? Not interested
in trading up? It's all you could ask for, and it's
machine-washable.” He picked it up and began to poke it past her
cheek, but she raised her right hand and showed him the kitchen
knife she was holding.
“I told you when you moved in: anything you
poke at me will get cut off,” she said, and smiled sweetly over her
shoulder. “Now go wash your pee-pee and get ready for dinner.”
     
Kim and Phen, our remaining dinner
guests/usual cohorts, showed up together just as the bell for the
bread dinged. Kim wasn't currently seeing anybody and had decided
that the best place to not see anybody was over at our house where
she could complain about whom it was she wasn’t seeing. It also got
her away from her perfect, white-bread, ideal relationship parents
who continued to assure her that the right man would come along Any
Day Now. Phen was one of our occasional friends -- he occasionally
stopped by, I don't mean he was only occasionally a friend -- but
was always up for free food and movies. We had laid in a supply of
testosterone-dripping cinema for us to watch while Teres and Kim
harangued the entire male race (I was, fortunately, exempt from
that category on an honorary basis; Dave and Phen were on
probation) and its constant refusal to recognize true beauty and
grace when it saw it, i.e. Kim. I dumped the pasta into the
strainer and ran some water over it while Teres took the pot of
sauce to the table. “Hey,” she called. “Come on back, we're ready!”
A pause, and then, “Ack! Dave!”
I joined her, carrying the pasta and a plate
of bread, and saw what stopped her. Dave had set the table with an
elegant place setting for each of us and a grouping of flowers
shoved together in the center. In the middle of the sad and
lopsided floral arrangement was the dildo, pointing straight up and
clearing the tops of the flowers by almost seven inches.
At least he'd washed it first.
Kim and Phen walked into the dining room and
stopped dead, with puzzled and amused expressions. Phen broke
first. “We having cocktails?”
We explained during dinner. I don't know if
you've ever noticed this before, but it is very difficult to ignore
a 10” penis, especially when you have to look past it to see your
dinner companions. This is not a problem I'm accustomed to dealing
with, and while Dave was well known to be packing more than his
fair share he still seemed nonplussed.
It didn't help matters that it was so very
realistic. The penis, not the dinner companions. I couldn't help
imagining an extremely pissed off man strapped to the underside of
our table, scrabbling desperately at the table