Curt is such a special guy. He got me a vacuum cleaner identical to the one his uncle had up at the cabin. The vacuum vacuums all right, of course, but the sound of it really turns me on. And when that sound combined with the vibrations it makes when I have the handle pressed at just the right spot about halfway between my belly button and my pussy—Oh Gosh! I spent most of the afternoon vacuuming the living room rug, not that it needed it, but I just couldn’t stop.

Curt came home and caught me at it. “Whatcha doin’?” he asked.

“Vacuuming,” I said, all innocent like.

“Uh-huh,” he went, knowingly.

“See what a good job it does?” I pointed out. “This rug is practically clean enough to eat off of.”

Curt nodded, knowingly. “Probably healthy, too, with all that fiber. If there’s any left.”

“Oh you!” I exclaimed. “There’s plenty of fiber. Take off your shoes and feel.”

Curt took off his shoes. He also took off his socks, his pants, his underpants, and his shirt. Then he lay down on the rug. “Mmm,” he said, “I see what you mean. Why don’t you join me down here?”

I didn’t have to be asked twice.

Together we tested the feel of the carpet. And the feel of each other. Curt started playing with my nipple. He didn’t stop, and it felt better and better and better. “Oh Gosh, oh Golly, harder now, pinch it. Pinch it harder.”

Curt pinched harder.

“Oh Gosh. Oh fuh.” Yeah, I came just from having my nipple pinched. But I have two nipples. The second cum was even quicker, even stronger. Maybe because Curt snuck a hand between my legs and twiddled my clit while he pinched my nipple.

But two cums were not enough. “Kiss me,” I demanded. “Kiss me while you—”

Curt kissed me before I could finish the instruction. He kissed me while he fingered me to another cum.

“Satisfied?” he practically chortled.

“Never.” I wrestled myself underneath him and sheathed his cock with my cunt and orgasmed him into orgasm. So good!

We lay sprawled together on the living room rug, catching our breath.

“So am I better than the vacuum?” Curt asked.

“What do you mean?” I asked, all innocent like.

“You know,” Curt said. “When I came in you were on the verge of orgasm.”

“How do you know?”

“You were going, ‘Oh fuh, oh fuh, oh fuh,’ the way you do sometimes just before you come.”

I didn’t know what to say to that.

“How come you don’t say ‘fuck’?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” I said.

“Maybe the word offends your sensibilities. Like you’re trying to be polite. Like the way you say ‘Oh Gosh’ instead of ‘Oh God.’”

“How do you know ‘fuh’ is short for ‘fuck’?” I said. “How do you know it isn’t short for something else?”

“Like what?”

“Like ‘fudge.’”

“Seriously?”

I nodded. “I happen to like fudge a lot. Yup, I do love your fudge-colored cock. Especially when it’s frosted with my fuck juice.