Fuck It (Yama Yama)

“Keep talking like that and I’m going to drag you into my room right now while we have an audience outside the door.”

Simon laughs and shakes his head. “No way. Bobby Jo would probably knock on the door to give us tips.”

Once we’re gathered in the living room, Bobby Jo grabs the TV remote and presses a button. A leather lingerie clad woman blinks onto the screen holding a paddle while two young men kneel in front of her.

Sicily’s jaw drops, and she grabs the remote from her. “Oh my god, we aren’t watching porn!”

Bobby Jo blinks at her. “But this is the one you like. With Ms. Cherry Nice.”

“That’s her stage name, not her real name,” Roger volunteers.

Kasha looks horrified at her father’s retention of this knowledge, but no one else seems to bat an eye.

Roger looks at Bobby Jo. “You said this was a surprise party, not a sex party.”

Bobby Jo holds her hands up and wiggles them in front of him with a smile. “Well, surprise!” She looks around the room. “Speaking of surprises, we have something to announce.”

“You’re pregnant!” Kasha shouts.

“God no, his sperm would have to go on one hell of an egg hunt to find that last survivor.”

Kasha winces. Apparently, thinking about her dad’s sperm was another step too far. She isn’t having a great night.

A smile blooms on Bobby Jo’s face, and the one on Roger’s matches it. “We’re moving in together!”

Congratulations are tossed at them, and everyone seems genuinely happy for them. It’s funny how life works. How people find each other at different ages and in different situations. By the expressions on their faces, they’ve fallen just as hard as the rest of us.

“Okay, today isn’t about us,” Bobby Jo adds. “So let’s get started! Gifts first.”

Simon and I sit next to each other on the couch. The shots are really starting to hit me, and I can’t stop giggling once he opens our gifts. The first is a ball warmer. As in, Bobby Jo knitted a cover for him to wear over his sack.

“You have to keep those guys warm if you want babies someday!” she crows.

Kasha and Henley have gone in together to get us a Clone-A-Willy kit. “It lets you make an exact replica you can use in case you break his dick again,” Henley explains.

“That’s not going to happen.” I read the box. It doesn’t mean I won’t put this to good use.

The last gift is a moisturizing bath bomb from Sicily. “It’s for your vagina. To heal up after he gets ahold of you.”

“Good idea,” Kasha agrees. “Poor vagina doesn’t know what it’s got coming after a six week hiatus.”

“Mine just shriveled in sympathy,” Henley says.

“Enough about my vagina! It can handle whatever gets thrown at it,” I giggle.

Bobby Jo gets to her feet. “Right, it’s Simon that’s out of practice, but I made a game to help with that.”

Oh no. I’m not sure I want to know.

She ushers a bunch of balloons from the corner of the room with her feet. “We’re going to play Hump and Pop! Men versus women! Team up!”

Hump and Pop turns out to be simple and hilarious. Everyone has a balloon attached to the back of their pants. We line up—men versus women as Bobby Jo ordered—and the fun begins.

One person from each team has to bend over the couch while the next person in their team humps them to pop the balloon. Once it’s popped, you switch places. The humper becomes the humpee. Until both balloons are popped and it’s the next person’s turn. First team to lose all their balloons wins.

There are no prizes, just the glory of it, but you wouldn’t know it from the level of competitiveness that Kasha and Roman show. Simon and Roman are the first to go on their team while Henley and Sicily are up on our side.

Nobody can stop laughing once Sicily and Roman are bent over. Henley grabs Sicily around her middle and starts pushing her hips against the balloon, but she’s laughing too hard to really try.

Roman’s balloon pops quickly with only a couple of thrusts from Simon, and they swap places.

After a few more moments of failure, Henley and Sicily switch places to let Sicily try instead. Sicily puts her hands on Henley’s hips and with one hard pump, the balloon bursts.

“Dude, never give that woman a strap on,” Davis warns Anderson.

Simon looks back at me, laughing as Roman humps him, trying his best to break the balloon. They aren’t having any luck.

Kasha starts to lose her shit. “Come on, Roman! Pretend you have me bent over the bed! Get in there.” Her last three words are punctuated by three thrusts of her hips.

My sides ache from laughing, and it only gets crazier.

Roman doubles his efforts, and the couch scoots, bringing Simon to his knees. Roman drops and keeps going at it.