Story: Changes in the Weather
COMMERCIAL ENDS, CUT TO LOGO MONTAGE.
VOICEOVER: Welcome back to Channel Five Instant News, with anchorman Bob Terkel.
CUT TO: The news desk, with BOB TERKEL looking handsome and trustworthy. Behind him is a graphic of Miami.
BOB: One of the least-talked about forms of medicine dosage is the suppository. Out of sight, out of mind, thanks little guy!. But are suppositories really safe? What sort of danger might they pose to you, and to your children? Bethany Malcolm looks at a family torn apart, but first here’s Gary Monahan with the Miami weather. Gary?
CUT TO: GARY MONAHAN, tall and dignified in a charcoal gray suit. He is standing in front of a cartoony map of the Miami-Dade area, with happy face sunshine symbols and a single drop of frowny rain on it.
GARY: Thanks, Bob. Miami, you’ve got a great weekend coming up on you. The cold front that doused us last week has moved on, leaving us bright and clear with barely a cloud in the sky. (Behind Gary the map gains a satellite overlay that repeats over and over to show a small patch of precipitation drifting over the area) Sad to say, that cloud is hovering over Homestead, so sorry folks, you’ve still got another day of light showers. Expect highs of 82 degrees, cooling to the high fifties overnight. Great weather for a picnic, and save a hot dog for me. Bob?
BOB: Thanks, Gary, I’ll hold a big one for you! Ha, ha, ha. Now it’s over to Skip to see how the Heat fared against the Sacramento Kings in tonight’s game. Skip?
Gary’s relentlessly cheerful expression faded in time with the red light on top of the camera, but he stayed in place and quiet until his producer stepped back and motioned the all-clear sign. Then he slumped and fell back against the dirty green wall. In the monitor off-camera, it looked as though he was leaning on Fort Lauderdale and had his elbow in the Everglades.
“God dammit!” he yelled. “What the fuck was I thinking? ” Save a hot dog for me.” Now it’ll be wiener jokes for a month from those assholes!”
The production assistant, who was also the weather spot’s cameraman, sound technician, and line editor, removed her headset and hung it over the camera lens. “You missed the handoff, Bob already made one.” She stuck her hands into her thick blond mop and began shaking out her headset hair.
“Crap. What did he say?”
“Never mind, you can’t hate him any more than you already do. C’mon, let’s get out of here.”
Gary stormed over to his desk — which was maybe two baby steps from his “stage” — to check the weather feed from NOAA for the fiftieth time that evening. “I can’t leave until the show is over, Shari, they might call me. Sunny, sunny, sunny, dammit. Maybe Homestead’ll get a tornado or something…”
Shari moved behind him to massage his shoulders. “You known they won’t. This station isn’t big enough for actual news, it won’t fit. One more budget cut and they won’t even have a weather spot, they’ll just have Bob look out the window on camera. God, you are tense-”
“Maybe someone will push him out,” Gary said. “Look at this forecast, they could just rerun tonight’s spot ’til next Thursday! I hate living in Miami!”
She gave up and collapsed into her chair next to his. “Miami’s a great place for a weatherman and you know it. We’ve got rain every spring, torrential rain and heat waves all summer, tornados, flooding, lightning, and, if you’re lucky, a hurricane or two. Tell me honestly, which would you rather do the in-the-field spot for, choppy surf or hip-deep snow? Plus you’ve got me.”
“And where are all the hurricanes?” Gary continued, waving his arms around. “You guys got ‘em every fucking year until I move down here, and now it’s all a-surprisingly-calm-hurricane-season shit. Dave Marsh didn’t get his face on a tracking map because of a surprisingly calm season! I don’t even get to be near the main stage, I’m stuck in this fucking broom closet on the other side of the fucking building with a fucking green wall and a-”
He stopped mid-sentence, with his mouth still open, when Shari calmly pulled her blouse to her neck and held it there. Thick pink nipples bobbled before his eyes on round, tanned breasts. After a moment she pulled it back down and smoothed it over her slacks.
“Better?”
He shook his head once, violently, then sighed. “Yeah. Thanks. Let’s go, at least we can still get a good table.”
Shari powered down all the equipment and grabbed her purse. Never fuck the talent, she told herself for the millionth time. Never fuck the talent…
There was a hot dog skewered on the antenna of Gary’s Accord. “That was quick,” he said. “I’m impressed. Someone must’ve had one in the break room.”
Shari pushed past him to get to the passenger side. “Don’t worry about it. They’re a bunch of fratboy jocks who know which asses to kiss and how to twinkle on cue. Keep doing the incredible work you’re doing and the networks will pick you up by the end of the year.” She got inside and unbuttoned the top two buttons on her blouse while he was still opening his door.
“So you’re saying I don’t twinkle? At last you finally… are you trying to distract me?”
“Of course. How’s it going so far?”
“Not bad. Do one more button.” He smiled at her in the dim light from the dashboard.
“Damn,” she said, kissing him on the cheek. “You twinkled.”
The next day Shari got to work a few hours early so she could get some work done before Gary got out of makeup and she had to morph into Chief Fan and Number One Weather Guy Supporter. This was getting old, especially since it was getting tougher and tougher to keep him happy. That was why she spent her extra time doing her other unofficial job; mailing demo tapes of Gary to anybody else with a TV camera.
She hadn’t started dating Gary to ride him to the top, but she knew he could do better than he was doing here at Channel 5. There had to be a way to get him noticed. Management never did, he might as well be invisible before-
Her phone buzzed at her. “Shari Bronson, Instant News at 5,” she said.
“Hi, this is Marcus Rice from Channel Nine. I understand you sent us the tape of Gary Monahan?”
Shari clutched her phone in both hands. “Yes?”
“Well, as it happens our weatherman is being transferred to a different affiliate, and we’re interested in your boy. Is he there?”
“No! I mean, no, not yet. He, uh… he drives around town every day before he comes in, looking at all the… all the weather,” she finished weakly. Stupid! Stupid!
“Sounds like quite a trooper. Ask him to give us a call after the show tonight. We’ll be watching.”
Shari babbled something approximating thanks and hung up. This was perfect! She knew he could do it! She knew he’d be great!
She knew she couldn’t tell him. He’d freeze up, no question. Shari took a deep breath. No problem. We’ll just go back in our little room and shoot the same great weather spot we always do, and then I’ll tell him. No problem.
Todd, one of the newsroom PAs, swung around the doorway and leaned in. “Hey! Bad news, Shari. You want it first?”
“Throw it on up, baby, I’m in too good a mood to float down and hear it.”
“This’ll bring you down all right. I just overheard the big bosses talking to your buddy. Starting Monday they’re cutting the weather spot down to just Friday-Saturday-Sunday, with a screen shot the rest of the week.”
Shari’s heart, full of hope and joy, drained like a leaking balloon. “Oh, you’re shitting me.” She thought furiously. Tonight was all or nothing, and now he was guaranteed to be at his worst. Maybe she could work the camera topless, or masturbate during his bit or something, keep him occupied. All he needed was three minutes of show-stopping brilliance and he’d never be invisible aga… Shari’s mind suddenly went crystal clear.
Todd was still describing the horror. “Serious, you could hear Gary yelling right through the phone. Hey, where you going?”
Shari all but shoved him out of the way and ran down the corridor, picking up speed as she went. “Cover for me!” she yelled back.
A room that’s only five feet square is a terrible place to pace, Gary thought, with the boiling heat of a person who’s been pissed off for over an hour and keeps finding more things to get enraged at. The show had started already, Shari was nowhere to be found, and the goddamn station was cutting him off at the knees. Weekend weather? Now he was doing fucking weekend weather?
I oughtta go out in style, he thought bitterly. Flip the viewers off, or tell them to go fuck themselves. You want weather? There’s gonna be a mile-high tidal wave, assholes, and you’re all gonna be crushed under the falling condos! Run! Run! Motherfucking sons of bitches…
Shari charged in and closed the door behind her, panting like a marathon runner. She was wearing a long raincoat and had her hair in a tight bun. Gary scowled at her. “What?” she asked.
“You don’t trust me either? Or were you in Homestead all day?”
“This? Oh, don’t worry about it.” She stepped around the camera and hugged him. “How you holding up?”
“Me? I’m fucking great!” Shari winced and went to check on the camera while Gary kept on yelling. “I renegotiated my contract, now I get four fucking days off a week! Ain’t that great?”
The camera set, Shari reached into her purse for her new makeup, which she started applying in handfuls. “Honey, you need to calm down, you’re on in five. You really need to do a good show tonight, it’s important.”
“Calm? Calm? How in the tenth secret circle of hell can I calm down? I’m ruined! Oh, forget it,” he said, as Shari unbuckled her raincoat. “A quick tittie shot ain’t gonna work tonight.”
She let the coat drop to the floor. Underneath she was wearing only a hooded green leotard that covered her entire body and clung to her lush curves. She turned around to display a matching green face and neck. “Gary?”
“What? What the hell are you-”
“Shut up.” She walked over to him and licked his bottom lip, reveling in the feel of his large hands as they automatically dropped to cup her ass. She wiggled it, once, to make him smile. “Come on weatherman,” she cooed, sinking slowly to her knees in front of him and yanking open his pants. “Give it to me straight.”
His penis was still soft, unaware of what was going on, but a few quick kitten licks on the underside woke it up and made it fit for company. She slathered her tongue up and down it while she had the luxury, getting it good and slippery for its big debut.
“Oh, God, that feels… what are you doing? You’ll get us both… unh! Fired! Shari! Jesus!”
Without stopping what she was doing Shari let go with one hand to point to the monitor over on the side, which showed Gary standing alone with a slightly blurry area below his belt. Thank god, Shari thought. She’d had to guess on the color that the camera’s chromakey filter would ignore and the Danskin place hadn’t had a lot of green to choose from. Now if she happened to pop into view, all anyone would see would be a chunk of weather map instead of her bobbing head.
She glanced back to the sweep hand on the wall clock, rubbing Gary’s rigid cock against her bright green cheek as she did so. She smiled up at him, knowing it would drive him crazy. “You’re on in five, Gary. Four, three… And she swallowed his dick whole, on cue.
CUT TO: Bob Tarkel, smirking into the camera.
BOB: And that’s why regular testicle examination is so important. And on that note, let’s turn to our head wienerman… I’m sorry, ha, ha, weatherman, Gary Monahan. Gary, what’s going on tonight?”
CUT TO: Gary, looking almost dangerously alert and curiously immobile.
GARY: What? We’ve, ah, we’ve just got weather all over the place, Bob! It was a NGH! A GLOrious day today, and it’ll be just as nice toMORrow! HIGHS as, um, as high as 89, with lows in the middle sexties. Sixties!
Although this was purely for Gary’s benefit and it wasn’t really her thing anyway, Shari found herself getting turned on. She’d never blown a guy in front of a few hundred thousand people before, and she suddenly found herself experiencing some serious ocean-level flooding herself. She kept an eye on the monitor to make sure nothing popped up and frightened the audience, and then she lost herself in the moment and worked both hands into his open pants to work his shaft and balls.
The studio was forgotten. The network was forgotten. All she wanted now was to make her lover come in front of a live camera, and she knew just what he liked…
BOB: Thank you, Gary, that was-
GARY: But if I can take… ah… take a moment, I’d like to ask everyone watching to get out tomorrow and REally enjoy the sunshine. Take your loved ones to a PARK or to the beach, show them how mu-uh-uch you CARE…
Faster and faster, deeper and deeper, Shari sucked and sucked and suddenly stopped dead, with only his head in her mouth, while her tongue swirled feverishly around the underside and both her hands blurred up and down his shaft, over and over. If she pulled away right now, she thought deliriously, would they see his come? Would it arc up in front of the camera, spurt all over the lens? If he shot thick streams over her invisible face, what would it look like to someone watching at home?
She let one hand slip down between her legs as she felt his balls tighten up…
BOB: I’m sure they will, Gary, but-
GARY: …because tomorrow’s weather will be GREAT! IN… INCREDIBLE! GOD! Just unbelievable weather tomorrow, BOB! It’ll be… whew…
CUT TO: Bob, looking a bit confused. He looked at his co-anchor, who shrugged.
BOB: Thank you Gary, for a very… impassioned… report. And now on to sports. Skip?
The red light blinked out and Shari leaned back with a very smug expression on her face. “That was a hell of a performance,” she said.
Gary knelt down to kiss her smeared green lips. “I was just going to say the same thing. Not that I’m complaining, but what was that for?”
“Channel 9 called,” Shari told him excitedly. “They were watching tonight, they need a weatherman! I was afraid to tell you, but you did an incredible spot and they’re sure to hire you!” She jumped up and hugged him. “Oh, you’re gonna be big time! You’ll be on the newsroom stage and on billboards and-”
Gary pulled her close and laid a finger on her lips. “And I owe it all to you. I do have a demand, though.”
“Oh, I don’t know if you can-”
“I want my own studio, just like this one. With you as my only camera operator.” He reached down to run a finger through the sopping wet crease between her legs, and he held her up with his other hand as her knees buckled. “And I want a rip in your leotard, right about here.”
“Oooh, God, Gary, that feels-”
“Come here, lady,” he said in a husky voice. “I have a wiener for you.”
CUT TO: The monitor, where we see GARY starting to do amazing things to absolutely nothing. Credits roll.
e
First Things First
You never forget your first time. For some people, this is a bad thing, a crippling experience that can take a lifetime from which to recover.
Which is too bad, since my own first time was fantastic. Mutually pleasurable, loving and tender, deeply and deliciously satisfying to the mind and soul. Didn’t get caught, didn’t cause traumas, didn’t develop any bizarre or inconvenient kinks by accidentally imprinting on obscure undergarments or rubber-tube-related accessories, and no one got pregnant, bruised, or mysteriously itchy. Both people involved (me and her) still, years later, look back on it as a wonderful experience.
No reason to tell you all that, really, I just like thinking about it.
But I feel that too much attention is paid to the first act of intercourse. All the pressure, personal, social, and peer, is on losing your virginity, getting laid, losing your cherry, and finally becoming a man and/or woman. Such a huge build-up for a fairly simple set of exercises and is it worth it?
There’s an unrealistic expectation that penetration is the only act that matters, the only act worth memorializing, and that’s just silly. What about all the other high-water marks in your sex life? Why skip over all the other triumphs under the sheets? Just look at all the exciting “firsts” that still brighten my lengthy bathroom visits.
The first time a girl let me see her breasts on purpose. That was a pretty damn important first, let me tell you, especially for someone as tit-happy as I am. I spent hours in high school peering across the aisles for wide sleeves, loose necklines, and tank top gaps until I could mentally piece together, an inch of untanned skin at a time, an entire boob. But the first time a girl shyly unbuttoned her shirt and let it fall aside to display soft, rounded flesh to my eager eyes, that memory is burned into my brain much more vividly than, say, American History, or my blood type.
The first time my tongue touched a girl’s tongue and she was awake and everything.
The first time my lover spent the night. Incredible as the sex was, it barely compared to waking up wrapped around a warm and wriggly lady. Crawling out the window to get her home before my mom came in calling upon God and all the saints to give her strength before she had an embolism and dropped dead of shame and embarrassment, that was just icing on the cake.
The first time I got erect for a reason. Scared the hell out of me, I thought my spine had telescoped around under my butt. Fortunately I soon came to grips with it.
The first time someone put their mouth below my waist without losing a sports bet first. Good times, good times.
The first time I really understood what that little button on the girl was for and why it liked being kissed so much. I only had to wear the neck brace for a couple of weeks and I can almost turn all the way to the right now.
The first time I went through an entire sexual encounter without having to say “sorry” or “Don’t shoot, I’m unarmed!” even once.
The first time I had sex in public. Exhilarating and wildly liberating, even though I didn’t actually know at the time that everyone in the orchestra pit could see us. That still counts, right?
The very first time I peed within minutes of an orgasm. You don’t see it mentioned much in the literature but it’s like pouring sweet iced tea over a first degree burn, only in a good way. For weeks, before the novelty wore off, I was having orgasms as fast as I could just so I could hurry up and pee afterwards.
The first time I had sex with more than one other person. A truly mind-expanding encounter that opened my eyes to vast new vistas of sensual enlightenment, even if they did keep sending me for pizza.
The first time I turned down a sexual offer from a beautiful woman. I gotta admit, I’m really looking forward to this one.
No matter what the state of your sexual history, if you look you’ll find things to commemorate, even if no one was there to back you up. Or, if you have absolutely nothing you want to bring out of the Repressed Memories crypt without trained medical help standing by, you can just think fondly back to someone else’s sex life and go from there.
Such as my first time, which, as I mentioned before, was totally great.
Song: The Blue Movie Blues
(Guy sings)
Every week I show up just to clean her pool
and as soon as I do she grabs hold of my tool
It’s a lot of fun, sure, but it’s gone on for a year
And my boss wants to know what I do over here
as the things in the pool have all started to ooze
I think I got the blue movie blues
(Guy’s chorus)
‘Cuz wherever I go and whatever I do
Every woman I meet, they all want to screw
There’s no logic involved and no mystery solved
I got a case of the blue movie blues
(Girl sings)
Gave up delivery jobs ‘cuz they’re all the same
I’d show up with the goods and I’d stay for the game
I brought groceries, laundry, pizza at night
’til I found what they all really wanted to bite
I’m not a good-lookin’ girl but I can’t seem to lose
because I’ve got the blue movie blues
(Girl’s chorus)
These guys are all rugged, well-dressed and hung
Get it up right on cue, got a prehensile tongue
They pump ’til I shout but they keep pulling out
Oh Lord, I’ve got the blue movie blues
(Guy sings)
I worked really hard in an executive way
’til they made me the pres-i-dent one day
Secretary came in, did an arabesque,
said “I don’t work right ’til I’m screwed to the desk!”
Now I got fourteen temps ‘cuz I don’t like to choose
Not while I’ve got the blue movie blues
(Guy’s chorus)
Every woman’s a knockout, tits out to there
and not a single one wears un-der-wear
They’re all fantastic in bed and they all give me head
to try and cure my blue movie blues
(Girl sings)
You know last summer at noon the aliens dropped
and they kidnapped me in the parking lot
I shrieked and I screamed ‘cuz I knew I would die
Then they strapped me down tight and they unzipped their flies
So now I’m back here on Earth but nobody screws
not like the cosmic blue movie blues
(Girl’s chorus)
I’ve heard of VD and AIDS but I can’t get a dose
and I’ve never even seen a condom up close
‘Cuz there’s no birth control until the credits roll
Not when you’ve got the blue movie blues
(Guy and girl alternate)
(Guy) It’s every guy’s fantasy but it’s starting to bore
(Girl) And every hole that I’ve got is incredibly sore
(Guy) I want a steady girl, not just whoever’s here now
(Girl) And I’m sick of directors telling me how
(Together) I keep thinking I’ll quit but it’s hard to refuse
another case of the blue movie blues
Another taste of the blue movie blues
I just can’t face the blue movie blues
A Year of Getting Some
Happy New Year! At a time like this, on the brink of an exciting year that promises new developments in science, world peace, and medicine, our thoughts are naturally drawn to one overriding question: how am I going to get laid this year?
And well you should ask. This all-important question is vital for singles and couples alike, for commitment and love and undying affection is still no guarantee of nookie. What’s needed here is a guide to help you along, and nothing fits a New Year’s celebration like a well-meaning list.
So here are twelve months worth of suggestions to liven up your sex life, whatever it may be. Use them wisely and well, and be sure to come back in 2005 and tell us about it.
JANUARY
The new year, the rebirth of the calendar, the beginning of a world-wide do-over. The New Year is personified by a babe in diapers, and that’s where we’ll start.
If you’re a couple, try infantilism. Dress one of you up in diapers and let the other handle all the feeding, cleaning, and whatever else comes to mind. Don’t neglect the natural sucking instinct. If the baby thing gets a bit much to deal with (and I admit baby powder can get expensive), just play babysitter.
If you’re single, try greeting women in bars with “Will you be my mommy?” Sit on men’s laps and suck on your thumb. Or just masturbate with a (warmed) bottle or a handful of Pampers.
FEBRUARY
February brings us Valentine’s Day, a day of love and desire and, mostly, candy.
If you’re a couple, you need drippy chocolate. Chocolate body paints, melted chocolate, chocolate syrup, chocolate sprinkles, anything to help you get sweet on your lover. It takes at least a case of chocolate syrup (24 oz cans) to get any decent quantity in a bathtub, by the way.
If you’re single, use Hershey’s Kisses as bait around attractive people of the desired sex. Tie fishing line to them (the kisses, not the people)(at this stage, anyway) and play your catch towards your hiding place. Or leave a trail of them leading towards where you wait with a bag of kisses and a free drink. Or just go buy the biggest box of quality chocolate you can afford and binge all month. Remember, there’s an extra day this year!
MARCH
‘Tis the month of the Irish, it is, and ye’ll be needing to honor that even if you were unfortunate enough to be born somewhere else.
If you’re a couple, get out and party! Wear green and drink up and enjoy each other until you get thrown out. If you’re a couple of the same sex persuasion, I’m sure there’s a parade around there somewhere you can crash.
If you’re single, there are tons of parties and get-togethers and brouhahas where nubile young singles are waiting for someone just like you, or at least someone just like what you look like after twelve beers. If not, McDonalds will have Shamrock Shakes again, so there’s still something to look forward to.
APRIL
The Easter Bunny returns, with candy and fun for all! Oh, and there’s that religious thing.
If you’re a couple, take turns hiding candy somewhere on your person and let your lover go hunting. Make absolutely sure you count the candy before and after, there’s nothing like coming up short four M&Ms to put a bit of panic in your play.
If you’re single, commemorate April showers by picking up a multi-speed water massager and celebrate Palm Sunday until you go blind.
MAY
This month you have your choice. Mother’s Day is on the 9th, and Memorial Day is on the 31st.
If you’re a couple, celebrate motherhood by nursing at every opportunity, especially in public. It’s legal, you just have to put a towel over your head.
If you’re single, try conquering a neighboring person. Plan your strategy, using maps and reconnaissance if advisable, and swoop in to claim your prize. Be warned that they may try to defend themselves and the U.N. will disavow your actions. If it doesn’t work, remember that May is also National Masturbation Month, and you are not alone.
JUNE
This time it’s dad’s turn as Father’s Day rears its paternal head.
If you’re a couple, it might be a good time to see just how disciplinary Daddy can be. I see spankings ahead, unless you’re really, really good…
If you’re single, commemorate Father’s Day by having paternity papers served on that special someone.
JULY
America (the U.S. part) is honoring its Independence Day. Shouldn’t you?
If you’re a couple, celebrate your independence by masturbating in front of your lover. Avoid using sparklers, no matter how cool it would look.
If you’re single, keep in mind that a lot of other single people will be out drinking and watching the fireworks and drinking.
AUGUST
August 6 is Asia Carrera’s birthday, and that’s enough of a reason for me to declare August Porn Month.
If you’re a couple, go shopping. Buy up every video or DVD that looks remotely interesting and lock yourself away in your bedroom for awhile. Or crank out the video camera and make your own!
If you’re single, you’re way ahead of the curve, here. Consider picking up some porn that doesn’t match your usual tastes. Who knows? You might discover a new kink! Or at least give the old tapes a break before they melt.
SEPTEMBER
This month the major holidays are Jewish. Rosh Hashanah (on the 16th), the Jewish New Year, is a time to look back on the mistakes and events of the past and plan for the future. Yom Kippur ( on the 25th) is the Day of Atonement when nothing may be done during a day devoted to reflection and prayer. So naturally you’ll want to get laid.
If you’re a couple, this is a good time to reflect on your sex lives, and to share the good bits with each other. Also, remember that “Rosh Hashanah” can be translated as “head of the year,” and act accordingly.
If you’re single, refuse to allow yourself release all day, no matter what happens, no matter how frenzied your self-groping. Plenty of time to orgasm in another 18 hours.
OCTOBER
Halloween! The best time of the year for adventurous lovers, since costumes and accessories are everywhere!
If you’re a couple, stock up on costumes and masks and makeup to fuel your fantasies for the rest of the year. Get your cowboy gear, your dominatrix outfit, your naughty wizard costume, and get your treat tricking, or something.
If you’re single, there are no better ways to get lucky than at a costume party where you can go hours without showing anyone what you look like. If you’re tricky enough, with some advance scouting you can dress up in the same costume as someone attractive and benefit from the confusion.
NOVEMBER
November is a time of thankfulness, a time fir family, a time for eating yourself sick. The possibilities in bed should be obvious.
If you’re a couple, give thanks to each other for all the good things. Then eat each other, and do a lot of stuffing.
If you’re single, give thanks that you’re not stuck with some psychotic serial killer boyfriend or girlfriend. Then go cruise the buffet restaurants.
DECEMBER
Whatever your faith, this is a time of giving and good cheer, especially if you’re in the upper tax brackets.
If you’re a couple, avoid the rampant consumerism and make each other homemade sex toys. Wouldn’t she be more impressed with a dildo you carved yourself? You know, you really can’t sand those enough.
If you’re single, try setting out a box at the office or at local hangouts labeled “Tits for Tots,” with a slot to put phone numbers to help the truly needy. Encourage your friends and coworkers to give generously.
Happy New Year! Go get busy!
Bluff the Little Children
If you have children in your house, whether your own, a relative’s, a neighbor’s, or as the result of a zany misunderstanding, there is one thing you know for certain.
They will find your smut.
It’s almost magical. No matter how well it’s hidden or disguised, no matter how well locked away or secure, kids possess the supernatural ability to locate, exhume, and display your stash of movies, books and toys within seconds, often at the most embarrassing times, such as during your in-home ministry services.
I discovered this myself, many years ago, when we failed to anticipate that my toddling son would consider anything that contained batteries to be his. We’d be downstairs in the kitchen and he would come stumbling down the stairs, holding a madly vibrating wand high and laughing about the “buzzy thing.” There followed a period of involuntary hide-and-go-seek as we sought to find better hiding places faster than he could gleefully discover them.
I’m not going to use this space to comment on the development of sexuality or society’s attitudes towards children and sex. There are many studies already for this, and you are encouraged to go with whichever one meets both your personal beliefs and the beliefs of your local law enforcement community. We went with our gut feelings and general “ick” factor and decided that while we didn’t want our children to think that sex was nasty or shameful, neither did we want our underage children to know any more about cock rings or “Sex Trek: The Next Penetration” than was strictly necessary.
Over the years of raising two bright and annoying inquisitive sons we developed methods of dealing with this issue, and some simple rules.
TOYS SHAPED LIKE BODY PARTS ARE HARDER TO EXPLAIN
Traditional vibrators and smooth butt plugs don’t look inherently sexual. Neither do the newer silicone, acrylic, and glass jobbies that resemble pieces of coffee table art more than any merely human phallus. And, more to the point, if you stick with those you don’t have to worry about questions like “Mommy, why do you have a great big rubber pee-pee on your nightstand?” coming out in the middle of family reunions.
Rubber vaginas and other novelties are a bit tougher to explain away on short notice. In fact, anything marketed with “lifelike hair” is going to be tricky to justify to the average preschooler. Unless you’re a medical doctor and might conceivably have a reason to have bodily replicas, you may wish to avoid such things altogether or invest in a safe-deposit box.
We found that a classic vibrator, stored in the same area on the headboard as our back massager, wooden roller massager, heat pads, carpal tunnel wrist support braces, and other obvious “old folks” stuff was perfectly camouflaged and still easily accessible. Lotions went next to the baby powder and the Tiger Balm. And our children have never questioned our keen interest in oblong sculpture.
DISGUISE THE PACKAGING
Store your blow-up doll in a box marked “Tax Returns 1985-92.” Hang your interesting leather garments on coat hangers underneath topcoats. Remove and throw away the box covers for all of your DVDs and videos and add your own labels, such as “Trip to Boring Gulch, New Mexico” and “The Wonderful World of Dental Hygiene.” If you make your own videos, make sure each tape starts with ten minutes of the movie “Educating Father” (1936, Jed Prouty, Shirley Deane) to discourage youthful viewing. Polaroids should be tucked inside “The Principles of Accounting, 4th Edition.”
Try and look at your room through the eyes of your child and avoid any hiding places that look interesting all by themselves. It’s no good to tuck your copies of “Hustler” inside the folds of a huge old blanket when that might turn out to be the perfect thing for a play tent.
Hiding your smut simply isn’t enough. No matter how carefully you’ve stashed it they’ll find it anyway, if they think there’s something to find. Just like with muggers and auditors, you want to make it seem as if there’s no reason to search too far or too deeply.
REPURPOSE, REPURPOSE, REPURPOSE
Even ordinary things can seem unusual in the wrong location, like when the neighbor children are playing hide and seek with your kid and want to know why there’s so much rope under your bed (hint: put a copy of the Boy Scout Handbook next to the coils).
Hide your feather teaser by putting it in a cabinet next to some Lemon Pledge. Whips become decorative wall hangings or part of a woven plant hanger. Nipple clamps go in the desk drawer, next to the paper clips. Cock rings go with the hair ties and scrunchies (unless you have a daughter who might borrow them, in which case put them in the toolbox next to the plumbing gaskets).
Even then, it’s much safer to use items that already belong in the bedroom for your play. Scarves are just as good as rope while being more decorative, softer to the skin, and much easier to explain. If you assemble your domination gear out of everyday clothing you may lose some of the psychological edge, but you also avoid the inevitable sight of your 8-year-old daughter coming to the dinner table wearing your leather hood and asking how to get the zipper mouth open.
An amazing variety of common household items can be used for insertion, as every emergency room intern knows. Old-fashioned alarm clocks (with the bell removed) make vigorous vibrators.
NEVER LET THEM SEE YOU SWEAT
Worst of all is the moment when your child first walks in at the wrong time. The “wrong time” might be defined as “the first time they see their parent acting like a crazed weasel in heat.” This is invariably frightening and traumatic, sometimes for the children as well. Here your best saving grace is fast thinking and good acting skills. Consider the following responses to be used as soon as the child is noticed:
“Eight, Nine, Ten! I won!”
“How’s it feel now, hon? Back all better now? Oh, hi…”
“Oh thank god! Quick, go get the snake bite kit while Mommy finishes saving my life!”
A calm head and some quick blanket work can do wonders.
How have you managed to hide your passions from your offspring? Let me know, because I’m running out of ideas…
