I don’t know about you, but there’s nothing I find hotter than getting dressed up and going out on the town with my super sexy girlfriend so we can scope out nubile bodies for her to suck the sexual energy out of to feed her insatiable libido which sustains her life force and without which she’ll most definitely die. Wait, did I say hotter? I meant more awkward. In a hot way. But still, mighty awkward.
But, hey, that’s what happens when you date an irresistible, unstoppable sex machine. Lauren knows it. She’s not necessarily happy about it, but she’s a scientist and knows fighting Bo’s sexual appetite is as useless as fighting gravity. Sure, you can outrun and out jump and even out fly it a little. But sooner or later, even when aided by science and all its advanced technology, you’re going to have to come back down.
So here they are scoping out hotties for Bo to feast on. But not that guy, he’s got nine heads – the other kind of heads. And not that gal either, unless she wants to wait for her 1,000-year vow of chastity to run out. Mid-menu perusal Trick walks up innocently to see what the loveliest ladies in six counties are up to. Lauren mentions voracious sexual appetites and satisfying coital requirements and poor Trick retreats with the sudden need to polish every glass in the Dal immediately.
But for Bo love means never having to say you’re sorry you have to have sex with a lot of strangers so you can stay healthy. For everyone else it’s pretty much the exact opposite. Unless you’re one of those couples who have established ground rules and through clear communication have worked out the boundaries for an open relationship. Which, if you think about it, is exactly what this is. Minus the glowing blue eyes thing.
Still, succubus or no succubus, the secret to any relationship is trust, understanding and compromise. So Lauren knows they can make it. And, since they’re being honest, her pubococcygeus muscle can sure use the rest. Just so you don’t have to Google, that’s the muscle on one’s pelvic floor that contracts during orgasm. So in case for some reason you’ve forgotten, this is a show where two beautiful gay women get it on like Donkey Kong and talk openly and unabashedly about their relationship in grown up ways. In other words, this show is freaking awesome.
Of course the one essential caveat to the all the understanding and trust is the one and only rule. No wolf. Which, naturally, makes me nervous. Because whenever there’s just that one itty bitty/enormous rule, well, you know how much people just love to break things. But this is not the moment to play Little Red Riding Hood and stumble across a wolf. This is the moment Lauren and Bo finally find her dinner. And with a peck on the cheek to Lauren, it’s game on.
Of course, talking out the inherent nature of one’s being and physical need to consummate sexual desire devoid of emotional connection on an intellectual level is one thing. Hearing it bang the headboard above you is entirely another. Lauren is doing her best to ignore the sounds of carnal calisthenics coming from upstairs and working on stronger injections for Bo. It’s not going so well. Oh, and this ain’t the Grammys. Side boobs are allowed and encouraged here.
Kenzi isn’t feeling so swell about the scissor sisters upstairs either. She seems agitated. Hey, wait, wasn’t she getting yanked behind a dumpster when last we saw her? What happened? And what happened to her “tact” button? Because Kenzi pulls a decidedly unKenzi move and barges into Bo’s bedroom mid booty call. No. 1 succubus roomie rule: If this room is rocking, don’t bother staying in the house because it’s going to take a while – go see a movie or maybe do your taxes in the library.