‘Left on the table was a beautifully wrapped box, addressed to me. Now, who would leave a present for me? As far as I know, only I have the key to my own house! I opened up a letter that was left with the box. Figures. He left it for me. Frankly, I was scared to know what was in that box but I opened it anyway. There he was, rather, his picture on a pair of thongs with a letter saying, “At least, you’re still touching me when you are touching yourself. Love, Jacob.” I think I’ve never facepalmed as hard as I did when I got that box.’

Confession [@jezsiema]