While Arturo squeezes oranges and burns toast for our breakfast, I do his ironing. Ha, ha, the joke is on him, for Arturo owns not a stitch of clothing.

There’s hardly any use for a laundry basket. What I should do is cut a hole in the bottom and wear it as a Halloween costume.

Dirty Laundry!

It would be very convenient for stashing my treats.

Of course I run the washing machine from time to time, just to keep it in good shape. I do enjoy the sound of the filling, and the slosh and churn of the wash cycle can be rather exciting, but what really turns me on is the spin. Woowee! I can come with the barest bit of clit touching.

Yes, doing Arturo’s laundry is a real pleasure.

But it turns out Arturo does possess a fine suit of blue.

“My, don’t you look spiffy,” I remark. “What’s the occasion?”

“Job interview,” Arturo says. “There’s an opening for lineman. An outfit called the Chicago Bears. I figure, given my ability to climb and my knowledge of Ohm’s Law, I’m a good fit. A natural as it were. Plus I get along well with bears.”

“Um, one thing, well maybe two,” I think it wise to mention.

“What?”

“Uh, nothing. Don’t forget to take an orange in case you get hungry. And how about before you go I give you a blowjob for luck?”