Maybe I should see if we had any spare batteries at work? If it turned out that mine were dead or that I didn’t even have any, I would die. Explode! And then what would they put on my death certificate? Could they find that sort of thing out during an autopsy?
Then a thought hit me as I sat behind my desk that would solve all of my problems and maybe even make them completely nonexistent for life. What if I attached a car battery to the vibrator? I could get the leads from work and hook it all up.
How would one go about seeing if that could be done?
My first option – to ask the Gods of Google – yielded no results. Apparently, no one had ever asked that on the internet. Or, maybe they were just too embarrassed to? Who could say, but regardless there wasn’t any answers or anything for me to go on when I searched the Web. All the people in the world, and not one of them could have given me the answer I needed. I didn’t even need details – although it wouldn’t have hurt to know how, if I was honest– just a simple yes or no.
My second option was to ask the guys working in the big space next to my office. But how?
Madix
Dropping Dahlia back at the garage had been hard to do, but I’d needed to get Harambe back to my house and settled. Somehow, he always gravitated toward her whilst Baileys came to me. It was the most mixed up dog swap ever given the vast differences in their sizes.
I’d watered and fed the little bugger and now he was tearing into whatever he could find. I should probably have stopped him when he started ripping apart a cushion, but it had been dropped off on my doorstep by an anonymous Townsend and had You’re my Haram Bae on it. My bets were on either Levi or Tate, but short of dangling them upside down out of a window, I couldn’t get them to admit to it. Yet!
Apparently, Harambe had the same issues with the cushion I did, so he could make it into confetti for all I cared. In fact, if I didn’t think that it would encourage him to continue tearing shit up – shit I actually liked – I would have given him a doggy treat for his efforts.
Taking a picture of the savage canine’s antics, I sent it to Dahlia. It only took a few seconds until I saw the three little dots dancing on the screen, showing that she was texting back.
I choked when I read what came through.
Dahlia: Cute!!!!!!! You probably shouldn’t let him do that. He might decide your cock is next.
Before I could reply, another message from her pinged onto my screen.
Dahlia: Jesus Jones. COUCH. I typed COUCH.
The roar of laughter that burst out of me made Harambe jump and yelp, throwing bits of cushion stuffing up into the air and across the surrounding floor. I should probably stop him doing that to the cushion now in case he ended up consuming any of the stuff.
As I walked toward him, I typed a message back to her.
Me: If he goes after my cock, his balls will find their way onto a vet’s table.
For good measure, I added a couple of scissor emoji’s to the end of it. Grinning, I then typed another message to her.
Me: And I didn’t mean couch.
Putting my phone onto a table beside the sofa, I went and wrestled the cushion away from the little savage. This took longer than I’d intended it to because the little shit didn’t want to give it up. After a tug of war, I relented and gave him the torn cushion cover so I could pick up the stuffing and put it safely in the garbage.
Once that was done, I picked my phone back up and looked at what she’d sent back. My eyes almost popped out of my head at what was on the screen. A photo of Baileys nestled into her cleavage with her Labrador’s head on her bare stomach. She was wearing a cropped v neck t-shirt, so both dogs were skin to skin with her.
Staring at it, I was overcome with an emotion I’d never felt before in my life – jealousy. Literally, for the first time in my life, I was envious of something else, and it just so happened to be a puppy the size of one of my own’s turds.
Did I care one bit? After seeing that photo, no. Whereas she’d probably intended for the photo to be innocent, I saw something far from that when I looked at it. And so did my cock.
I was blaming that appendage for what I was doing on the drive over to her house. Then I was thanking it for what happened after I made the journey.