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Rated: 18+ · Short Story · Adult · #1798387
Where do you turn when you can't get laid?
God, he had to get laid.  It’s all Eric had been thinking about all day.  Oh, who was he kidding, it’s all he ever thought about.  Succulent thighs, tight abs, a thick juicy…Eric licked his lips. 
         Who would he call tonight?  Matthew, Jonathan, Ru Paul?  No, he’d seen them all this week, and they’d all been lousy.  He sighed.  Tonight, it will have to be me, myself, and I.  Eric went through his box of wonders that he kept stored under his bed; a penis pump, lubricant, warming gel.  None of these would satiate tonight’s desire.  What could?  He shut his eyes tonight, combing the darkest, dirtiest recesses of his mind.  A light bulb went off. 
         Eric ran to the kitchen.  All right, paper towels!  He ripped off the remaining towels and hugged the cardboard tube close to his chest.  It was the perfect thickness and length.  The next accessory would be a bit harder to obtain.
         Eric ventured to the mall, a baseball cap concealing his bleach tipped hair.  A trench coat hung loosely over his body.  He approached the pet store.  He began to sweat.  Damn damn damn damn.
         He entered nonchalantly and approached the gerbils.  Those beady eyes overcame him and he shuddered.  “Hi can I help you?” Eric jumped at the shrill voice.  “No, no I’m fine,” he huffed to the over excitable salesman.  The gerbils were too much.  He went over to the mice.
         Those small little bodies were perfect but mighty quick.  It might be too much but…this is all that’s left.  No hamsters in stock today.  Eric swallowed.  Aw fuck it.  He grabbed the entire case of mice, containing twenty rodents, shoved them in his trench coat, and ran out, ignoring the obscenities yelled at him by that insane salesman.  It was gonna be a swell night indeed. 
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