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Social Lubrication

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J.P. shambled into the kitchen, fumbling for the carafe of coffee. “I’m sorry, but could we just not leave the lube out on the bathroom sink. Just because I know you’re all wankers doesn’t mean I want to contemplate it while I’m brushing my teeth in the morning.”

Oregon grimaced. “You do realise you’re saying this to a roomful of women, right, J.P.?”

“Who’s to say it’s for wanking?” Josie asked with an air of fake innocence as she poured milk over her Wheatabix.

“But of course it’s for wanking. It’s not like you’re old enough for your vag to start drying out yet.”

“How do you know about vages drying out? I only know about it because I was trapped in car with my aunt Sarah for three hours once,” Josie said before she shovelled a bite into her mouth. “Besides, maybe it’s not for vages.”

J.P stared at her with open-mouthed horror.

Vod schlepped into the kitchen. “What’s not for vages? Has Candice been raiding the crisper drawer for cucumbers again? Is that why J.P. looks so horrified? Serves him right for having salad for breakfast. Fucking posh prick. Oh my God, that coffee pot better not be empty.” She lunged for the coffee pot, cursing when she poured out droplets into a mug. She started digging through the cupboard before she shook her head, realising that the coffee was out on the counter.

Josie side-eyed the fridge. “Oh? Cucumbers? Really? Cucumbers? It was carrots last week. I suppose she’s working her way up to aubergines. No, Vod. J.P.’s just making a big deal over the lube that Kingsley and I left in the bathroom.”

Vod looked Josie up and down. “Lube, eh? Never pegged you as one to take it up the bum. Haha. Pegged. Although, I suppose, speaking of pegging, maybe it’s not you that’s taking it up the bum.”

“Really?” said J.P. his eyes now the size of dinner plates. “The Pussyman takes it up the bum?”

“Stop calling him that, J.P,” Josie said.

“Apparently, I must. Christ. You live with people for years and you think you know them,” he said as he settled back against the worktop

“It’s no business of yours what we do with that lube. If it were our lube.”

“My house. My bathroom. My business.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. And should we just invite you around next time we put it to use?”

“Oh, God no. Well, maybe. Which one of you— Oh, good mooooorning, Kingsley.”

The kitchen went silent. Josie stared at her cereal with a smirk while the rest of the room tried to subtly assess Kinglsey’s gait.

“Interrupted something, have I?” Kinglsey said with a dopey smile before he kissed Josie on the cheek. “J.P., stop checking out my bum. We’ve talked about this.”

Vod stared at J.P. “He has seemed a bit interested, ‘adn’t he?”

Kingsley froze. “What’s going on?”

“Someone left lube in J.P’s bathroom, and Josie’s told him she gives it to you up the bum,” Vod answered.

“What? How is that even possible?”

“Ah, playing dumb. Classic move,” Oregon said. “Look, there’s nothing wrong with it. Pegging is rather progressive. It’s a sign of the modern man. Secure enough in his masculinity to take pleasure in ways previously associated only with homosexual intercourse.”

“What? No? I am not comfortable taking pleasure in… that. Not that there’s anything wrong with it. But I’ve never tried it, so I have no way of knowing whether I’d be comfortable with it.”

“’S not what Josie says,” Vod said with a grin as she poured her coffee.

“What? Josie!” Kingsley said, pulling his hand back from her shoulder.

“Stop it, Vod. You know how confused he gets before he’s had his coffee.”

“Josie!” Kingsley stared at her as Vod passed him a mug.

“Oh, I’m just having a bit of fun. It’s not our lube, J.P.”

“Well then, whose lube is it?”

“Don’t look at me,” said Oregon.

“What brand is it?” asked Vod.

“Liquid Silk,” J.P. said with as much disgust possible.

“Horrible stuff. Gets goopy after about ten minutes,” Vod said, glaring at Oregon when she looked shocked.

“I guess it could be Candice’s…”

Howard shuffled into the room. “What could be Candice’s?” He opened the fridge and began rummaging through the meat drawer.

“The lube on the bathroom counter.”

“Oh, it’s mine.” Howard closed the fridge, clutching a lump wrapped in white butcher paper. He froze in place when he realised all his house mates were staring at him. “I use it on my pig.”

J.P.’s face contorted even more.

“What?” asked Howard.

“I’m trying to figure out whether I should horrified or if the entirety of the female population of Britain owes your pig a debt of gratitude.”


“Oi, Howard. Next time you’re sticking it to your pig, put your lube away after,” Vod asked. “We really don’t want to know about it.”

“Oh my God. You are all sick! Sabine was right. You’re terrible human beings! I used the lube to loosen the dirt she got stuck in her hooves after our walk last week.”

“Right, Howard,” Kingsley said, muttering something that sounded suspiciously like “pig fucker” under his breath.

“I am not and never will be a pig fucker,” Howard shouted.

Candice, of course, chose that moment to wander into the room, looking more wide-eyed and innocent than usual.

“Well, I’m glad we cleared that up,” said J.P. “Howard, if you could please let us know if you decide to change your stance on that. Wait, what am I saying? Do not let us know if that’s the case.”

“Duly noted,” said Howard, his words short and clipped.

Candice opened the fridge and pulled out the crisper drawer. “Oh, bollocks. We’re out of cucumbers.”