But Has That Bag Boy Been Tested? Day!
You’re forty and you’re married. You’re bored and you dig teens. You gotta a bagboy tripping over himself to help you load the trunk every time you hit the safeway. And you know that one day, not today because you’re taking the girls to Jazz Dance, but one day he’s gonna load the trunk and your gonna load him into the bag seat and then he’s gonna euphemism for ass sex.
And how safe is that, Mom? You deserve your kicks as much as anyone else. No one’s denying you that. Your husband gets to "stretch his legs" with every little brunette 23-and-new-to-the-firm who’s still standing at Friday night cocktails. But your choice is limited to bagboys, paperboys, pizza delivery boys, and Keith, your husband’s best friend since college.
And while most of these delectable side-dishes haven’t had the kind of experience that would place them at risk for sperm cancer, they also haven’t had the kind of experience that would teach them to take care. And how can you be sure of how much they’re getting around, anyway? If you’re inviting them home, how many others must be?
I’m afraid that you should be as careful around these boys as if you would be with someone you picked up outside a meth clinic. Why should your extra-marital fun be spoiled by a fatal or disfiguring STD. Get those little kids tested and read the results yourself. In fact, you can drive them to the clinic and get it done before you head home with the whippersnapper. A sixteen year old won’t mind the extra errand. It’ll take a couple hours extra, but really he’ll be fine with it.
The thing you have to be careful of is if he tests positive. Then you’ve got a sixteen year old boy in your car who just found out he’s gonna have to down a 25-pill drug cocktail every day if he wants to live long enough to drink legal. Suddenly, your naughty after-school statutory rape will turn into a motherly there-there (he’ll gonna cry into your breasts like your daughters do, except just five minutes prior you’d have been planning on fucking him). And the worst part is you’re not gonna be able to take him all the way home because you won’t wanna be seen behind the wheel. So this kid will have just heard what he thinks is a death sentence and a few blocks away from his house you’re gonna drop him off and tell him to start walking. Hot!
This isn’t a scare tactic. We’re all rooting for you to make this shit happen. But we also don’t want you to come away from this attempt feeling lower than you ever did. We’re just looking out for you and we want your sex with a boy young enough to be your daughter’s prom date to be the best that it can possibly be. Now hit the schoolyards!
But Has That Bag Boy Been Tested? Day!
