While is in the shower, you attempt to find all of the condoms that you used during your romp. After twenty minutes of searching, you find two more. One was stuck to the mirror on ’s dresser and the other was in the waste basket. That leaves one more. You want to find it before your partner-in-crime gets out of the shower. You search high and low for it, but there is no sign of the used rubber anywhere. Just to be sure, you double check the waste basket. Sure enough, it was in there. It had fallen into an old paper towel tube.
“Whew…That was close. So you were tucked away in here, hoping I wouldn’t find you, you little bastard. And I see you have your wrapper in there with you.” You exclaim to the used pecker protector. You throw it on the bed with its compatriots and marvel at your stamina.
“Damn, I wish I’d been sober. Six times, DAMN! And with of all people. I hope I was good.” You exclaim. But something doesn’t look right. You can’t quite make it out, but there is definitely something wrong here. As you hear the water in the shower turn off, you recount the rubbers on your bed.
“…Four, five, six condoms and four, five, six…seven wrappers. SHIT, THERE’S ONE MORE!” You shout as you hear drying her hair. She usually doesn’t take long to do that, so you know she is minutes away from stepping out into the room. “Where is this thing?”
That’s when you see it. A quick glimpse around the room revels the location of the last condom: The tripod for ’s video camera, which is oddly pointing right at the bed. You slowly walk to the camera and lift the rubber from its resting place. That’s when you notice the red light on the camera, indicating that the camera is on. You don't want to know if there is a tape in it or not. As if on cue, steps into the room.
“Hey , is everything okay?”
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