In this fun and ✱✱✱ ✱✱✱ ✱✱✱✱ inflation ✱✱✱✱✱, I inflate you.

Ever since I bought this “Love Struck” lip balm online, I’ve had this weird, overflowing flirty energy—like I’m about to burst. It came with a free unmarked vial: syringe, little heart on it, no instructions. I feel compelled to share it with you.

I give you the choice: ✱✱✱✱ or rectal. You pick rectal because it’ll ✱✱✱✱ faster. I give it to you. You start to feel warm.

Soon you look bloated. I poke and tease you about how you look. Then you grow more and more right in front of me. Your jeans can’t hold on—your ✱✱✱✱ pops out, and it’s huge. I get nervous and caught off guard by how ✱✱✱ you’re getting, like a ✱✱✱ air ✱✱✱✱✱✱✱.

I start touching that huge ✱✱✱✱ and you love it. I keep stroking you because I feel responsible—this is happening because of me. You look like what I felt like: I felt like I was going to burst from that love-struck feeling, and you are actually almost bursting, you’re so ✱✱✱.

Then, just from holding onto your ✱✱✱✱, you start to float toward the ceiling, rising above me. I’m shocked. I keep saying I don’t think you can ✱✱✱✱✱✱ getting any ✱✱✱✱✱✱—you look like you’re going to burst.

A hissing sound comes from your ✱✱✱✱, like a ✱✱✱✱✱✱✱ with a leak. OMG… I think you might actually… burst.