"Holy shit!" I exclaimed, my pelvis still slamming wildly out of control into the overlarge cardboard simulacrum of a BBW woman that I had constructed over the weekend. "It's like I'm on fuckin' cloud nine over here!" I yelled for the fourth time in the last five minutes. This time it elicited a banging from the wall I was adjacent to, shortly followed by a shout: "Shut the fuck up David it's two in the morning!". I replied with a laugh and a "Fuck you, sis'!" while continuing to slam my rock hard 3.5 incher into the cardboard construction that I has festooned with random articles of clothing stolen from my sister's room. It turns out that the easiest to steal without her noticing were shirts, and so I had a disproportionate amount of shirts on the sexual muse that I had created. Ten shirts and nothing else, in fact, as everything else that I had stolen had been cruelly stolen back from me before I could affix it to my creation, which would have made it legally my property. At first I was saddened by this, but I remembered that someone had once told me that the key to fashion is layering. "Mistakes into miracles!" I shouted at the top of my lungs as I continued rocking my lady's cardboard life as hard as I could, clearly indicating through the noise that no one should come a-knockin'.
But come a-knockin', she did. I heard loud thunderous footsteps down the hallway followed by three meaty slaps against my door. "David, what the hell are you doing!?". It was my mother; I could tell by the thick and slurred manner of speech. "Don't come in mom, you wouldn't understand!" I yelled, consumed by fear, but with a tinge of excitement that I didn't understand. "David, you stop whatever you're doing right now so help me god!" she quaked back at me. I didn't know what to do, caught between the ecstasy of my creation and the possible embarrassment and shame of my mother seeing me in this state. However, a thought occurred: "Would you really be so ashamed to be caught by mom?".