I quickly pull the bullet off of the table and close my eyes, pushing my hand clutching the bullet down the front of my pants. Drew’s suggestion of wearing yoga pants with no underwear is genius. I have easy access without having to get naked in front of all of these people.

I hear screams and shouts of “Go! Go! Go!” from all around me, but I block it all out, hit the power button on the vibrator, and concentrate.

As soon as the bullet touches my clit, I know this isn’t going to take long at all. I wasn’t lying when I said I missed sex. Not having the time or energy to even masturbate lately has built up my need even more.

There are some gasps from the crowd and I think I hear someone say, “Oh sweet Jesus,” but I don’t care about what else is going on with the other racers.

I slide the bullet all around me, and I can already feel the little tingles of pleasure shooting down my legs. I squeeze my eyes closed even tighter and think about the one time Drew and I had sex in our basement on a pile of his old stuffed animals from when he was a child. The things that man can do with a Pound Puppy…

I can’t stop the moans that escape from my mouth as I hold the bullet still against my clit and let it do all of the work to bring me to completion. I think again about the basement sex and Drew barking and that’s all it takes to send me over the edge into oblivion. I shout my release and my free hand smacks down on top of the table to hold me steady as my orgasm washes through me. When the tingling has stopped and my orgasm is over, I quickly pull the bullet out of my pants and smack it down on the table, throwing both of my arms in the air in victory.

I was so focused on my orgasm and flashbacks of basement sex that I didn’t even realize how quiet the tent had gotten. I open my eyes and notice people staring at me and all of the vibrators bouncing around on the table.

“Uh, honey. I think we may have got the rules of the race a little mixed up,” Drew tells me as he comes up behind me.

Oh my God. Was I the only one masturbating? What the f**k?!

“Uh, I’m not really sure how to pick the winner of this race,” the judge says from the other side of the table, clearly looking a little confused.

“Why the f**k didn’t you stop me?” I whisper frantically at Drew.

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“It all happened so fast. And to be honest, it was hot as f**k,” Drew tells me.

“I do believe I clearly won the wager,” Jim says from the other side of me where Carter and Claire are laughing hysterically. “Judge, I think Jenny here needs to be the winner of this heat for creativity alone.”

The whole tent lets out a roar of approval and there is so much cheering and clapping that people from other tents have wandered over to see what is going on. I’m so mortified I can’t even move. All I can do is stare at all of the vibrators bouncing up and down on the table in front of me until Claire’s Butterfly FX 2000 inches ahead of the rest and bounces right off of the end of the table where I now see a black and white checkered finish line is painted.

“Son of a bitch!” Claire shouts. “I would have totally won that thing!”

“So, babe, about that pep talk before the race-”

I cut Drew off before he can say anything else. “Don’t even think it. You are NOT getting your brains f**ked out tonight!”

Chapter 15 – Dr. Duke of Earl

Contrary to popular belief, standing around at a vibrator race and allowing your wife to masturbate in a tent full of strangers when she’s actually supposed to be putting the vibrator down on a table to race it will not get you laid. Even if she promises. I try to get her to change her mind for two hours after we get home. My dad is no help. Once he had found out what happened, I get a forty-five minute lecture on how you’re never supposed to leave a man behind. After he leaves, Jenny tells me to sleep on the couch and console my penis on my own.

I try. But every time I get a good yank and pull session going, I hear Billy crying upstairs to be fed. It’s all fun and games until your kid starts crying right before you’re going to release the demons. Talk about an erection killer.

Today, I have the house all to myself and you would think I’d spend it comforting my penis, but no. I have other plans. Jenny took Billy to Claire’s shop with her today while she does some bookkeeping, and Veronica is at preschool for a few hours. I’m using this time wisely. With the help of the little package I had got in the mail yesterday, I am going to fix mine and Jenny’s sex life in just ninety minutes. I ordered a self-help CD called: How to Bring the Spark Back into Your Marriage. I’ve closed the blinds, locked the doors, and put on my favorite motivational shirt: Camel’s Tow Service; ask us about our Moose Knuckle discounts.

I grab the package from my work bag, where I hid it yesterday after I got the mail, tear into it, and pull out the plastic CD case. Popping it into the stereo system in the living room, I crank up the sound and hit play.

“Hello and thank you for purchasing: How to Bring the Spark Back into Your Marriage!”

“You’re quite welcome!” I reply to the man’s voice coming from the speakers. He’s British and British people always sound smart when they talk so this should be good. “’Ello Gov’na!”

See? He’s already made me smarter. I’m talking British.

“How ‘bout a spot of tea with the Queen?”

“Make yourself comfortable as we begin our first lesson.”

“Don’t mind if I do,” I say as I take a seat on the couch.




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