Текст книги "Troubles and Treats"

Автор книги: Tara Sivec

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Текущая страница: 6 (всего у книги 14 страниц)

There had been another time when I gave her a Wet Willy when she started coming.  I hadn't meant for that to be hilarious. I read about it in Cosmo.  When she had locked me out of the bedroom, I grabbed the magazine and realized two of the pages were stuck together – sex tips and practical jokes.  Well played, Cosmo.  Well played.

We leave the cuckoo doctor’s office with a promise to keep communicating with our reproductive organs.  Unfortunately, I still have no fucking clue how that’s supposed to help get me laid.

Chapter 12 – Baby Bullets

Since cuddling our reproductive organs has done nothing to boost our sex life, there’s not much else for me to do except think back to a time when we were having sex.                Man, those were the days.  We had A LOT of sex.  Like, a lot.  Pretty sure it was impossible to even count that high.  And fuck, was it good sex.  Even when we were trying to get pregnant with Veronica it was good sex.  You would think that since we pretty much used to have sex every single day, it would have been easy for us to get pregnant.  I had always thought that shoving as much sperm up there as you could guaranteed you a baby.

I mean, it makes sense right?  If you’ve got this little egg, and you just throw a handful of sperm at it, what are the chances that one will get through?  But if you pour gallons and gallons of sperm all over it, that’s got to up your chances, right?

False!  Those little white-tailed squirmy devils have serious attitude.  It’s like they think they’re too good to fertilize an egg.  Little bastards.  You’ve got to trick them into submission.  A sneak attack when they’re least expecting it.

“What, you say he’s going to put us through the tunnel while he’s on a Tilt-a-Whirl?  Impossible!”

“I do declare he just shot us out of his cannon in a golf cart on the highway.  Preposterous!”

You see?  Listen to those stuck-up fuckers.  They even talk like assholes.

After eight months with no success in getting pregnant, instead of letting it get us down, we had just got creative.  We had sex in a supply closet on the maternity floor of a hospital because Jenny thought it would bring us luck.  It didn’t, but we got two bottles of Windex, three pairs of doctor’s scrubs, and a box of rubber gloves out of the experience.  That was almost better than a baby!

Another time, Jenny had made a list of all of the couples we knew who either were currently pregnant or had already had a baby.  We went down the list and had sex in their beds.  She figured there must be some kind of magical power in their beds that made it so they could have a baby.  Having sex in their beds would get some of that magic to rub off on us.  Yeah, that didn’t work either.  And let me tell you, Carter and Claire were not so agreeable with our magic dust plan.  I still didn’t get what the big deal was.  It wasn't like we had sex while they were in the house.  We made sure to wait until they left for work.  Geeze, give us a little credit.  I still had a scar on my forehead from when Claire threw a lamp at my head.  It wasn't our fault they decided to come home early.  They should have just followed their normal schedules and none of that would have happened.

The next one was totally genius and all my idea.  What has more sperm than it knows what to do with?  Yep.  A sperm bank.  I made an appointment and then made my deposit.  In my wife – booyah!  I figured this place was getting people knocked up every single day, so there had to be some luck in that, right?  Jenny was a little nervous at first.  She said she was certain that little particles of sperm were floating in the air at that place, and she was nervous that a particle from someone else would get all up in her business, and then she’d give birth to a baby that wasn’t mine.  Don’t worry though, we took precautions.  We kept her lady bits completely covered until I was ready for my deposit, ensuring that my particles were the only ones getting inside.  The nurse at that place wasn’t too happy when we came back out and I told her I had made the deposit in the wrong cup.  Jenny also wasn’t too happy that I kept referring to her vagina as a cup for the next several months.

I had been a little sad my idea hadn't worked, but it was okay because we came up with something even better.

It’s a good thing and a bad thing the next experiment actually worked.  I say bad just because some day Veronica is going to ask where she was conceived and were going to have to tell her in the men’s room at a Red Lobster.  Jenny had read somewhere that lobsters were lackadaisical, which in her mind, meant they would boost our desire, thereby ensuring we got pregnant.  I was pretty sure she was trying to say aphrodisiac, but I wasn't about to correct her when it meant I was going to get laid with a belly full of lobster and delicious Cheddar Bay Biscuits.  Before the bill came, we excused ourselves from the table and sneaked into the women’s room.  As soon as I saw the tampon machine on the wall, I turned around and walked right back out.  I couldn’t concentrate on banging if I was thinking about the red vagina of pain.  I grabbed Jenny’s hand and marched us over to the men’s room.  The coast was clear; the urinals were empty and both of the stalls were unoccupied.  I dragged her back to the handicap stall and got down to business.

“Fuck, you look so hot in that dress, baby,” I said softly as I slid my hands around her hips and grabbed her ass, pulling her against me.

“Do you think it’s unclean to do this in a bathroom?  What if I get germs in my vagina?” Jenny asked nervously as she looked around the inside of the stall.

“You obviously have no idea how unclean my penis is if you’re asking me this,” I told her honestly as I slipped my hands under her dress, pushing it up past her hips.

“Jesus, you aren’t wearing any underwear,” I mumbled against the side of her neck as my hand glides over her bare ass.

“I took them off at the table,” she told me, wrapping her arms around my neck as I sucked and licked the skin right under her ear.

“That’s so hot.  Did you put them in your purse?”

I felt her shake her head “no” as my hand slid around in front, and I pushed my fingers through her soft, wet skin.

“Oh God that feels good!  No, not in my purse.  I just left them on the floor under the table.”

I pushed and twisted my fingers through her heated center, sliding them up and around her clit with each pass.

“Fuck!  Take your pants off!” Jenny muttered as she clutched her fingers tightly into my hair.

I pulled my fingers out of her with a groan, quickly unbuttoned and unzipped my pants, and pushed them down to my knees.  Jenny lifted one leg up, wrapping it around my hip so I could hold it in place by her knee.  With my free hand, I grabbed my dick and positioned it at her entrance.

“We’re totally making a baby right now,” I told her.

“This is going to be the best bathroom baby ever made!” she said excitedly.

I thrusted into her smooth and fast, squeezing my eyes closed, trying to calm myself down with how good she felt wrapped around my dick.  After a few seconds of getting myself under control, I stopped thinking about anything else but fucking my wife and those snot-nosed little sperms who thought they were better than everyone else.  I began moving in and out of Jenny at a rapid pace, loving the little sounds of pleasure that came out of her mouth.

“Fuck, I’m getting a cramp in my leg,” Jenny said after a few seconds.

I stopped moving, still buried balls-deep in her, giving her a second to put her leg down and try to get more comfortable.

“Here, wrap both legs around me,” I told her as I lift her up, pushing her back against the wall of the stall.

Her long, smooth legs locked around my waist, and I got back to the task at hand.  Pretty soon, Jenny was clawing at my back and groaning loudly, and I knew she was close to coming.  I sped up my movements until the stall was rattling and slamming against the wall of the bathroom.

“OW!  Son of a bitch!  This is killing my back,” Jenny complained suddenly.

I pulled out of her as I let go of her legs and set her back down on the floor.

She stood there for a minute with her hands on her hips, looking at our surroundings.

“I’ve got it!  I’ll kneel on top of the toilet and you can rail me from behind,” she said with a smile as she moved past me and put her knees on the seat of the toilet and faced the wall.

“Oh my God, I love you so much right now,” I told her as I watch her get situated.

I had a clear view of her naked ass, and I was pretty sure if I didn’t hurry up and get back inside her, I was going to shoot these baby bullets all over the floor.

She looked back at me over one shoulder and smiled.

“Saddle up, cowboy.  Give me your baby juice.”

I closed the gap between us, and she leaned forward awkwardly, resting her forehead against the wall behind the toilet, wrapping her hands around the flusher to keep her steady.

Grabbing onto her hips, I slid back home again, letting out a loud groan when I was deep inside her again.

“Ohhhhhhhhhh fuck,” I moaned as I got my rhythm back.

I thought I heard a noise in the bathroom but nothing was going to stop me right now.  I was in heaven and I wasn't ready to come out yet.

“Jeeeeeeesus!” I exclaimed loudly, thrusting into Jenny with all my might.

At this point we were both grunting and panting and oblivious to everything else around us.

“Fuck this is good.  So good.  Uuuuuuunnnnggggghhhh,” I moaned.

“I’m sorry, but are you okay in there?”

The sound of another man’s voice in the next stall forced us to halt our movements immediately.  I was clutching onto Jenny’s hips, and she whipped her head around to stare at me with wide eyes.

“Um, ha, ha, yes!  I’m super, thanks for asking!” I replied back to the guy.

Jenny gave me a “what the fuck” look and I just shrugged.  As she turned back around, she shifted on my dick a little and did that awesome thing with her vagina where it squeezes me.

“Oh my goat milk, that’s hot!” I cried out.

“Ooooh, yeah.  Goat milk has that reaction with me too.  I always get the fire shits from goat milk,” the guy in the next stall told me.

This guy needed to shut the fuck up already!  I didn’t need to hear about his burning asshole while I was trying to make a baby!  It was like this guy had no class.

I did my best to ignore the rude guy next door so I could finish this thing before Jenny decided it was a bad idea.  She turned her head again and looked me in the eye, mouthing the words, “Hurry the fuck up!”

Don’t mind if I do!

Without a second thought, I started banging the hell out of her again.

“Fuck yeah.  Oh fuck, I’m so close!” I muttered.

“You’re doing great, buddy.  Keep pushing!” my bathroom friend encouraged me.

“Oh hell yes!  I’m pushing, fuck yeah!” I shouted back, bolstered by his enthusiasm.

“Oh my God, I can’t believe this is happening,” Jenny whispered.

“Oh, it’s happening!  It’s totally happening, baby!” I told her.

I could feel my orgasm and it was right there, just a few more thrusts and I could send those little sperm fuckers to their home!

Mid-thrust, Jenny lost her grip and her hand slipped, causing the toilet handle to push down, making the toilet flush.

“Well that was awkward,” I said as I continued what I was doing.

“Nope, not awkward at all,” bathroom man yelled back.  “A courtesy flush is always a good idea.”

Even with this guy talking my ear off, Jenny felt so good that it was impossible to stop my orgasm from rushing up through my balls.

“YES!  YES!  YES!” I shouted with my head thrown back.

With one last thrust—that I will argue until my dying day wasn’t that hard– Jenny lost her balance on the toilet seat while I came, and one of her knees slipped down into the toilet with a loud splash. Water flew out of the bowl and all over the floor.

“Oops,” I said sheepishly as I shivered through the final seconds of my orgasm.  I had pulled out of Jenny and backed away from her while she struggled and tried to get her knee out of the toilet, forcing more water all over the place.

“It’s okay, man, happens to the best of us,” the guy next door had admitted.

“Ain’t that the truth?!” I answered.

So, yeah.  That’s the story of Veronica’s conception and now Jenny and I have to figure out how to break that news to her when she’s older.  Maybe we can leave out the part of the spectator in the next stall over.  And the part about never finding Mommy’s underwear when we had got back to the table.  And how

Mommy fell in the toilet.  You know what?  I think we’ll just make something up.

Fuck, now I’m horny.

I glance at my watch and realize I’ve got some time before Billy will be up from his nap and Jenny will be home with Veronica.  Normally, I’d go jerk off, but Drew junior is a little under the weather.  Remember when you were little and your mom would tell you that if you whacked off too much you’d get hairy palms?  That’s so not true.  Believe me, I've tried to make it come true.  I had thought it would be the coolest thing ever to have hands like Teen Wolf.  Who needs a dog when you can pet your own hands?  Michael J. Fox had no idea how good he had it.  Anyway, it turns out, whacking off too much doesn’t cause hairy palms. It causes a raw, chafed dick.   I’m blaming this all on Head and Shoulders.  Stupid blue and white bottle that looks so friendly with its happy little green bubbles on the bottle.  I had thought rubbing my love handle in the privacy of the shower with a little squirt of fresh-smelling shampoo the other day would be lovely.  I mean, have you felt shampoo lately?  It’s soft and soapy and smells like heaven.  Plus, if it can give you silky, smooth hair. That should naturally mean it will give you a silky, smooth penis.

Folks, never, I repeat, NEVER, yank your wank with shampoo.  It may sound like a good idea at the time; it may even FEEL like a good idea at the time.  Just give it a few minutes and then your dick will turn into the fiery pits of hell.  It will burn like Satan himself is breathing his fire breath on your Willy Wonka.  Oh, and it will also feel like someone is chewing on your dick.  With razor blades for teeth.

So, while my dick is on the mend, I think I’ll spend some quiet time thinking about ways to make my wife have dirty bathroom sex with me again.

Chapter 13 – Hiney Duck Hiss

Once a month, the six of us try to get together for a game night.  We always say that one of these times we should all get babysitters so the evening doesn’t include stopping the game every few minutes to break up a fight between the girls and then forty-five minutes of screaming and crying at the end of the night when it’s time to leave.  For some reason, the weeks in between game nights make us forget about the fact that we were supposed to get a babysitter.  It isn’t until the first blood curdling scream comes from a bedroom or toy room that we remember.

Tonight we only have Veronica with us.  Drew’s dad still feels bad about making me think he was a stalker so he’s offered babysitting services whenever we need it.

He had told me as we were leaving to make sure I let Liz know how nice he is for offering up his time for us.  He also mentioned to stress the fact that he is doing this out of the goodness of his heart.  Drew’s mom had called me the other day and said that whenever he leaves the house he runs as fast as he can to his car, gets in, and locks the doors.

I’m pretty sure Liz has scarred him for life.

We pull into Carter and Claire’s driveway and park behind Liz and Jim’s van.

“Honey, have you hugged your vagina today?” Drew asks me with a smirk as he turns off the engine and pockets the keys.

“Will you stop it with that?  I already admitted that Dr. Madison was a bad idea.  Stop reminding me,” I complain as I get out of the car and get Veronica unbuckled from the back seat.

Drew has been teasing me nonstop about our botched marriage therapy session.  I don’t understand how I could have judged Dr. Madison so wrong.

“Didn’t you Google her or anything first?  Find out what she was about?”

“Of course I did,” I say in exasperation as I grab Veronica’s hand and we walk up the driveway.  “Her add in the newspaper said she was 'new age' and 'holyistic'.  I didn’t understand the 'new age' thing.  I figured she was just an older woman who wasn’t happy with getting older and instead of telling people her age, she just made up something called ‘new age’.  Sort of like when babies are newly born.  Or like, ‘How old are you?’  ‘Oh, I’m new age!’

And being holyistic, you would think that therapy session would have centered more around being holy and close to God.  We could use some holyistic in our marriage.  We haven’t been to church in years.”

Drew closes his eyes and shakes his head as he rings the doorbell.  I know he totally agrees with me and is just too annoyed about the whole therapy thing to say anything else.

“It’s about time you got here!” Carter says as he opens the door.  “Charlotte and Sophia have already pulled hair, clawed eyes out, and one of them shoved the other into the bathtub and turned the shower on.  Not sure who did it since we found both of them crying and sopping wet.”

Carter steps back and holds the door open for us so we can walk inside.

“Hey, man, nice shirt!” Jim states as he comes from around the corner into the living room.

Tonight, in honor of game night, Drew is wearing the shirt I got him for Christmas last year.  It’s got a picture of a Twister mat and says: How about a game of Twister?  Right hand on my penis, left hand on my ass.

“Veronica, why don’t you go on back to the playroom and see what the girls are doing?” I tell her as I bend down to help her remove her coat.

“Don’t tell me what to do, devil woman!”

I stand up and glare at Drew.

“What?  Can I help it if she has everything from ‘Billy Madison’ memorized?”

Veronica takes off running down the hall before I can scold her.  Technically it’s Drew who needs scolding, but at this point there’s no use.

“Come on, everyone’s in the dining room,” Jim says as he turns and leads the way.

An hour later we’re in the middle of a game of Mad Gab.  I hate this game.  Well, I hate it when it’s my turn because I never get any of them right.  But it is pretty funny when it’s someone else’s turn.  On one side of the card is a popular phrase, but the words are kind of jumbled together so you can’t tell right away what the phrase is.  You have to say the words out loud over and over until it starts to sound like the right phrase.  For example, the last one that was done, the card said: Abe Odd Hull Luck Oak.  The answer, written on the back of the card was: A bottle of Coke.

“Alright, it’s Jenny’s turn,” Claire announces as she pulls a card from the box.

I groan, preparing for the fact that I will lose again.

Claire holds up the card and I read the words, mumbling them to myself.

“No, no, no.  You know the rules, Jenny.  Say them out loud,” Liz scolds.

I huff and start reading the words really slowly.  “Hiney…duck…hiss.  Hiney…duck…hiss.”

Liz is leaning over close to Claire so they can both see what the answer should be and they are laughing hysterically.

“Hiney…duck…hiss.  Hiney duck hiss.  Hiney duck hiss,” I say, trying to say it a little faster in the hopes that it will spark something in my mind.

Nope.

“Oh God, I can’t!” Liz laughs, holding on to her stomach and resting her forehead on top of the table.  “Hiney duck!”

“Try saying it really, really fast,” Drew suggests, laughing as well.

“Hineyduckhiss.  Hineyduckhiss.  Hineyduckhiss.  This is dumb.  It makes no sense,” I complain.  “Just tell me the answer.”

Claire continues to laugh as she turns the card around to show everyone the answer.

“I need a kiss?  You have got to be kidding me!”

I really hate this game.

“Oh, I told you guys about the charity thing I’m doing at the shop this weekend, right?” Liz asks as she starts packing up Mad Gab to put it away.

“You mentioned something about it but refresh my memory,” Drew says as he leans back in his chair and rests his arm on the back of mine.

“Well, you know how last year we did a silent auction and all the proceeds went to The American Cancer Society?  I wanted to do something a little more outrageous this year and with more of a theme that matches my store.  So, I am having a vibrator race,” Liz announces.

“Whoa, really?” Drew asks.  “Is that legal?”

“Why wouldn’t it be legal?  I’m having it in the lot behind the store which is completely fenced in, and there will be security at the door to make sure only eighteen and up are allowed in.  There will be bets and different heats and lots to drink.  So make sure you all have a fantastic vibrator to bring with you.  Or you could always buy a new one at the store when you get there.”

Before I can ask any questions about the vibrator race and how exactly it works, Claire shushes all of us.

“Do you guys notice anything?” she asks.

We all pause and listen.

“It’s really quiet.  Why is it so quiet?” Jim asks.

With five girls in the house and a ten year old boy, there should definitely be a lot of noise coming from down the hall.  The fact that we’ve been able to play a game uninterrupted for an entire hour should have clued us in that something was up.

We all jump up from the table and race down the hall.  Drew is the first one to the playroom door and stops dead in his tracks in the doorway, blocking all of our views.

“Oh, holy Mary Tyler Moore,” he mutters before turning around and placing his arms on the doorframe so no one can get in.  “You do NOT want to go in there.”

We all stand in the hallway giving each other equal looks of fear and horror at what could possibly be happening on the other side of Drew.

Is someone dead?  Did the cat fights finally get serious and one of the girls is now missing an eye? What if it’s Veronica?  Oh my God, my baby is going to have to go through life wearing an eye patch like a pirate!  On National Pirate Day she’ll be expected to dress up and talk in a funny voice the whole day because she’s a pirate every day and everyone will just assume she’s really good at it.  But what if she isn’t good at being a pirate?  She’ll be hated by all for not knowing what “walk the plank” means.  I don’t even know what the hell it means!

“Drew, what the fuck, man?  What did they do?” Carter asks as he pushes me to the side so he can see over Drew’s arms.

“Oh my fuck,” Carter sighs.  “You might as well drop your arms.  They’re going to have to see it sooner or later.  Claire, take a deep breath first.”

Drew finally moves out of the way and we can all see just what has happened in the play room.

All five girls are sitting in a circle in the middle of the room, and each one’s face is completely covered in black Sharpie marker.  And when I say completely covered, I mean completely.  Absolutely.  Lips, nose, eyelids, ears…covered.  We all slowly make our way into the room, our mouths drop open in shock.  It’s not until we’re fully inside the room that we notice the extent of the damage.  As I turn around in circles, I’m kind of amazed at the detail of the scenes drawn on the wall.  In black Sharpie.  They actually drew a castle with a princess in the tower and a moat.  It’s a pretty good picture.

“Holy hell, is that a dragon?  Dude, who did the dragon?  That’s pretty good,” Drew asks.

“I did!” Charlotte pipes up.  She immediately wipes the black smile off of her face when she sees the murderous look on Liz’s face.

“I just painted these walls,” Claire mumbles as she takes on a catatonic look and stares at the ceiling.

“Gavin!  Have you been in here this entire time?” Carter shouts.

I didn’t even notice Gavin sitting sideways in a chair in the corner with his legs hanging over the arms, flipping through a book.

“Yep,” Gavin answers as he continues turning the pages without looking up.

“Um, and you didn’t think it was necessary to tell us the girls were painting their faces and the walls with a marker that doesn’t wash off?” Carter scolds.

Gavin finally looks away from his book and notices the girls in the middle of the room, all sitting silently and still clutching the permanent markers in their hands.

“Heh, heh.  Nice job, cootie faces!”

“Shut up, you piece of crap!” Ava yells.

“AVA!” Liz yells.

“What?  I’m not allowed to call him a piece of shit, am I?” she replies as she crosses her arms and pouts.

“She’s got a point.  She’s not allowed to say ‘shit’,” Jim whispers to Liz.

“I just painted these walls,” Claire mutters again.

“This is the best game night ever!” Drew exclaims as he pulls out his cell phone and starts snapping pictures.  “Girls, say, ‘Once you go black, you never go back!'”

I walk over and smack his arm, snatching the phone out of his hand.  “Alright, girls, everybody up, clothes off and into the bathroom.”

Liz and I start herding the girls out of the room and across the hall.

“Gavin, go get some soap and water and start scrubbing these walls,” Carter says as he makes his way over to Claire and wraps her in his arms.

“Why do I have to clean the walls?  I didn’t draw on them.  This is HORSESHIT!”

“GAVIN ALLEN!  I JUST PAINTED THESE WALLS!  DID YOU HEAR ME?  I…JUST…PAINTED…THESE…WALLS! IJUSTPAINTEDTHESEWALLS!  IJUSTPAINTEDTHESEWALLS!” Claire shrieks.

“Is she losing her shit or is she trying to do another Mad Gab?” Drew asks me.  “Because if it’s a Mad Gab, I’m going with ‘A just plain teddy swallows’.”

Chapter 14 – Racers, Take Your Mark

The weekend is finally here and even though it’s been an exhausting week with work, getting up at all hours of the night with Billy and giving Veronica eight baths in the last three days to try and get marker off of her face, I’m excited to go to the charity event that Liz is having.  And I’m not going to lie. I'm a little nervous.  I’ve never been shy about sex.  Ever.  But since having Billy, I don’t feel sexy.  Most likely from the fact that I get maybe three hours of sleep every night.  But still, I think today will be good for Drew and I.  The marriage counseling was a bust and the dinner with our neighbors didn’t provide us with any kind of help, so I’m hoping maybe this will do the trick.  Maybe it will give me the spark I need to feel sexy and get back on the sex train.  I feel bad for Drew.  We used to have sex every single day, sometimes two or three times.  I know he’s frustrated.  I’m frustrated too.  I want to want to have sex.  I miss sex.  I miss sex with him.  I’m determined to make today a success even though all I want to do is go back to sleep.

“Okay, you’ve got your traditional rabbit, which has rotating beads and tantalizing bunny ears.  According to my chart, it has a one hundred percent success rate of completion within five point three minutes,” Drew states as he looks at a page of the binder in his hand.

We’re in our bedroom with all of my vibrators spread out on the floor.  Drew is determined that I win this race today so he has spent all week analyzing vibrators, making flow charts, and running diagnosis tests on them.

“Next, we have your standard silver bullet.  It’s simple, straightforward, and could be our ace in the hole.  Pun intended.  No one would think to use the bullet because it’s so small.  But this baby’s got kick, highlighted by my report of a one hundred percent success rate within two point seven minutes.  I think we really need to set that one aside as a contender.”

I pick up the silver bullet and set it apart from the rest.

“I’m nervous about this race.  Do you really think I have a chance to win?”

Drew closes his binder and squats down next to me at my place sitting on the floor.  “Baby, you’ve got this thing in the bag.  You could win this thing with your eyes closed and your arms cut off.  You just have to believe.”

I nod my head and motion for him to proceed with the binder of stats.

Thirty minutes later, we’ve narrowed down our selection to the top two, which is pretty amazing considering I have no less than thirty-seven vibrators.  As we pack up the rainbow of colorful objects and place them back into our suitcase of fun to slide back under our bed, I hear the front door open and close.

“Are you two soldiers ready for action today?” Andrew Senior states from our bedroom doorway.

Once again, he’s offered to babysit for us.  I can’t possibly stay angry with him since it seems like this babysitting offer is going to be on the table for a long time to come.

“Affirmative, sir.  We are locked and loaded,” Drew states as he pulls me up from the floor and holds up the small, black velvet bag that houses the silver bullet.

“Did you clean your weapon and load it with new batteries?  A clean, properly functioning weapon is a happy weapon,” my father-in-law informs us.

“The chambers have been cleaned, the batteries have been replaced, and this soldier here is ready for battle,” Drew says as he wraps his arm around my shoulder and pulls me into his side.

“Stay smart, keep your head down, and for God’s sakes, don’t be a pansy ass,” Andrew advises me.  “The deadliest thing in this world is a soldier and his or her weapon.  Respect your weapon and it will respect you, is that clear?”

I nod my head and mumble, “Yes.”

“YES WHAT?!”

“YES, SIR!” I shout, putting my hand up to my head and saluting him.

“At ease, soldier.”

Surprisingly, his pep talk has motivated me and taken away my nerves.  I’m going to go into the race and I’m going to win it all.  I’m going to show all of those fools how it’s done.  I haven’t been an adventurous, sexual person all of my adult life for nothing.  This race is mine!

Drew has changed into his motivational shirt that he got just for me.  It has a picture of a vibrator on it and the words: My wife is #1 at diddling!

We leave Drew’s dad with a napping Billy and a hyper Veronica since Drew had let her have toast with sugar on it for breakfast.  I'm amazed at the amount of cars parked all around downtown by Liz and Claire’s shops.  We finally find a parking spot and walk into Liz’s side of the store, which is packed with people checking out her selection of vibrators.