Flashback.
The scene: my apartment, two weeks after the big break up, sometime back in November.
This post break up cohabitation has officially become unbearable.
After my onlining, I took a nice long hot shower and then turned on Dancing with the Stars.
I was feeling quite amourous especially since one of those male dancers was particularly hot. It was as good a time as any for my daily self loving episode.
So I dry off, plug in Mr. Hitachi,and get going.
I was having a blast, my arousal moving from a 3 to about a 6 in only a few minutes. And then… a rather angry banging on the door.
I looked over at my beloved BlackBerry (perpetually on silent) and see it lighting up. I swore loudly realizing it was Gus at the door.
The downstairs lock had been changed recently and I never bothered to cut him a copy of the new key because he was moving out in a couple of weeks anyway.
I pick up the phone to yell at him that I’m coming down to let him in. I usually unlock the door right before I know he’ll be arriving but this time he was home a full hour early.
I got up, got dressed and put away my electronic lover before going to let him in.
Fuck!
I can’t even masturbate in peace anymore.
