FFF #6, #1 for me

Trying out this whole Flash Fiction idea.... so for all of you unfamiliar with it, this is a work of fiction... sort of..

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The most embarrassing thing, and I hoped it would never happen. I figured moving home could lead to some complications in my sex life, but with the long distance relationship, I figured it wouldn't be a problem. Boy was I wrong. I woke up groggily to the sound of my mother yelling "Peter, whats that sound? some weird buzzing coming from her room!" Still not quite awake (as it was 6 in the morning) I hadn't fully realized what it was either, but I could hear it, and knew it was coming from my room. From under my bed. My parents came barging in, adamant to figure out what the problem was.

I told them I didn't know what it was, and that they should leave.

Wasn't about to happen.

Before my father could fully drop to his knees to look under my bed, I decided to take matters into my own hands. So I had the joy, of pulling my vibrator out from under my bed and turning it off. My phantom vibrator, that they knew nothing about. That decided to unveil itself by turning on in the middle of the night.

"It's my vi..back massager" I stuttered sleepily.

They were kind and pretended to believe me. I decided to never keep it plugged in again. Thinking that would be the end of it, the next night I crawled into bed, vibrator tucked in my dresser, under my t-shirts. At 2 am I woke up, hearing my entire dresser shaking. "No fucking way" I thought. I had forgotten one important reason I had picked this particular vibrator.. The battery pack. So I fished it out in the dark and turned it off.

I started to have nightmares, where vibrators would fall out of my purse, big large neon dildos, suddenly falling out of my bag in swanky restaurants. Hearing the lull of the vibrator coming from my bag while in the middle of teaching, arousing suspicion from my students, I lie and tell them its my phone.. I couldn't stop the nightmares, so I decided I had to rid myself of the source. But I couldn't bring myself to throw it away. It was quite reliable, and I had grown attached to it over the years, and it was still better than going digital..


It now lives in its new home. deep in the recesses of the walk in closet, in a Rubbermaid container, in between old sweaters.. Where it can never embarrass me again.