When I’m home—which is about half the year—I have a unique arrangement with a neighbor. I just call him Mouth. Honestly, not even sure what his real name is. He lives two floors down, works from home, and is always available when I need him.

Mouth is an oral enthusiast—says he prefers sex with men but loves going down on women. Whatever works. He’s convenient, easy on the eyes, and damn good with his tongue.

Last night, though? He took almost five extra minutes to respond to my text. Unacceptable. I was pissed, but once he arrived, I had him get to work before he could explain himself.

Turns out, he had just served dinner to his visiting parents when I summoned him. Told them he had to “help a neighbor” and left. Cute.

After he finished explaining, I grabbed his head and pushed him back down. Sorry, Mom and Dad—your son’s still busy being a good neighbor.