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Maslow said there are five hierarchies of needs and that's why I have five Boyfriends. Before my five Boyfriends I felt so empty and now they all fill me up at once shaking and slobbering in unison. I’ll never feel empty again. I used to live alone but slowly they all started making their excuses and now my apartment is bursting with the Boyfriends. The Hot One, the Quiet One, and the Funny were the first to move in, coming up with elaborate reasons to leave their current homes. The other two were simply just jealous and threatened to swallow all their respective pills if they couldn’t move in immediately. I’m not even sure the small dosage of the Gay One’s prozac could kill him but I succumbed to his threats regardless.

I wake up every morning to the Hot One tossing me over and sliding his tongue into my ass. The Quiet one walks in without making eye contact and takes his seat in the corner, only breaking his silence to clap when I cum. See, before me the Quiet One took a vow of silence due to Ex Girlfriend (sad) but now we have a daily exposure therapy practice wherein he reads me posts on r/ethicalpolyamory (happy). We still call him the quiet one because he whimpers when he cums while the other ones scream and wail at an octave so high they wake the neighbors. Whenever this happens I punish each boyfriend individually by bending them over my knee and spanking them fifty times with my copy of The Ethical Slut, Third Edition: A Practical Guide to Polyamory, Open Relationships, and Other Freedoms in Sex and Love. The Funny One walks the Mean One in on a leash and orders him to lick my perfect tits clean. If I give permission, the Gay One and the Funny One will make out so I can finish, but that's only on Mondays, Tuesdays, Wednesdays, Thursdays, and Fridays. The Mean One will then spit my tit out of his mouth because I’m gonna be late to work and who else is going to provide for all of these Boyfriends.

My Boyfriends are the fountain of youth. My Boyfriends and I spoon back to back to back to back to back to back. My Boyfriends are lethal weapons. My Boyfriends are loaded guns. My Boyfriends take pride in breeding each other. My Boyfriends are working so hard to produce the next generation of Boyfriends. My Boyfriends don’t know they can’t get each other pregnant and I will NOT be telling them. My Boyfriends don’t have licenses so they sit on each other's laps in my two seater car. My Boyfriends were totally fine and still loved me so much during my brief period of spiritual psychosis. They'd pray to Jesus or Mary or whoever I was on that day, and they haven't gotten off their knees since. DIY tattoo artists fear my Boyfriends. My Boyfriends’ favorite artist is Elliot Smith and when I start to hear them all weep I have to tell them to turn it off, we’re in love! My Boyfriends hit me only when I ask. My Boyfriends draw me a bath and read Kathy Acker to me in unison while I touch myself excitedly. My Boyfriends snort adderall on a rotating schedule so someone is always awake and I am never alone. My Boyfriends don’t have social media. My Boyfriends don’t even have phones. My Boyfriends are hound dogs. My Boyfriends find me by following my thick scent across the city.

One time on a shopping trip the Hot One lost the Gay One and I cried cried cried. The Quiet One put on a Karen Dalton record and I felt physical pain imagining the Gay One Leaving for the Country. He wouldn’t know what to do there. When he showed back up on my doorstep I forgave him immediately. A life without one boyfriend is no life at all and a life without five is

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