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.”