“After seven years hanging out in my brothers’ barn, I knew what the bathroom at the Lair was liable to look like…and smell like. Sooner or later, though, a girl’s gotta go. So here I was, facing a woman’s age-old debate with herself when using the boyfriend’s bathroom. Do I put extra toilet paper over the seat and hope it doesn’t stick to me afterward? Or do I break down and use the dusty, crusted, ancient cleaning products that have been sitting under the sink for god-knows-how...-many years? Obviously no one here used them unless… Looking around and wrinkling my nose, I couldn’t imagine what would set these guys off in a cleaning frenzy. I felt a familiar click of decision, and knew defeat. They couldn’t force me to leave the building while they squeezed out erotic fantasies for the monthly report. But they could blackmail me into cleaning their bathroom.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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