Member-only story
Household Appliance Erotica
The dirtier, the better.
Steve eyes his custom Wittus Shaker wood stove sweating by the sheepskin rug. “You want some of this?” he coos, waving a big, thick stack of invoices. With gentle, strong hands he opens the hatch and penetrates its feverish body with chiropractic bills, then watches with satisfaction as flames lick the papers.
The stove looks on as Steve splits a stick of kindling and plays out his lumberjack fantasy. As the fire smolders, Steve slides in his long-lasting log. Every day after work, he feeds its insatiable appetite for wood, then muses about the neighbors who still pay to heat their homes. Nothing makes his nipples hard quite like a $20 electrical bill.
Stacy slowly unzips the back of her dress and slips inside the shower’s hydroacoustic, tiled walls. Its watery fingers run over her, exploring her hidden valleys, washing away Stacy’s pent-up frustration and most of her skin.
“I’ve been a bad girl,” Stacy says to her shower. “I threw the printer out the bedroom window.”
Shhhhh, the shower says back.
Stacy twists the knob to increase the pressure. The shower submits, and Stacy’s skin starts to peel off while a snowstorm buries the printer outside.
