The Weekend Before the Conference #7

The Weekend Before the Conference is an erotic comedy centered around Diane. Diane is a soft spoken, sheltered, accounts receivable clerk who gets the opportunity of a lifetime: a work trip to San Diego, CA. Diane will rack up miles and rack up sexual experiences.

Am I big fuddy duddy?

I am unloading my groceries and I can’t seem to get this question out of my head. Probably. I couldn’t even get the gosh darn condoms out of the car because they got me so…

Diane, come on…say it. 

The voice. Sometimes I get this spooky voice in my head that wants me to do things that are definitely not PG-13. Maybe not even R. This voice wants me to do things you might see in a pornography video.

I first heard this voice at universal studios when the sorting hat was on my head at harry potter world. I was with my Aunt and her new boyfriend. Her new boyfriend worked on cars and wore cut off t-shirts with all the villains from loony toons. They got me a special visit with the sorting hat for my birthday. We all got sorted into houses. My aunt went first and got Hufflepuff. My aunt is a lot like me - just a warm bite of apple pie. Her boyfriend got Slytherin and I swear to jiminy cricket my pussy collapsed.

When it was my turn I thought to myself, “Oh Diane, you don’t even need the hat. You are a hufflepuff through and through.”

But when that hat went on my head I heard the voice.

“Why don’t you get your big fat ass into Slytherin and fuck Aunt Nancy’s boyfriend. Get into Slytherin and see what that snake feels like. Fuck him and send your Aunt pictures, not because she did anything wrong, but because you are wrong. You are sick and bad and you need to be bad to be free. Get a butterbeer and ask the boyfriend to drink it off your tits, you dumb fuck.”

Honest to heaven I screamed so loud the paramedics came. You can’t get a private sorting hat time now. Not allowed. But yeah, the voice.

Me and Aunt Nancy don’t talk anymore.

Sometimes I call the voice Voldemort even though that is not canonically correct. But the voice is evil! I just want to do financial stuff and have a nice safe life.

You are being safe. Wrap those lubricated condoms around some San Diego dicks and do whatever you want, STD free. 

“NO. ENOUGH.”

You know it’s not enough Debra. There’s not enough per diem or hotel shampoos or conference badges to fill the urge. The Urge. You know The Urge.

“THERE IS NO URGE. I DON’T WANT TO FUCK SO HARD I ALMOST DIE.”

Hmm? What was that?

“Nothing. I didn’t say anything.” I finish unpacking my groceries. I watch one censored episode of the office. I tuck myself into bed and I say my prayers for a few minutes.

Except for my fan, the room is quiet.

The condoms are on the passenger front seat. On the ground.

Oh, brother.