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First published January 25, 2018
"They talked about using a dildo."
"On yourself. Yeah." Carlos waited for the question, then tipped his head when one didn't come. "Oh boy. So, that's another thing?"
"I've never done? Yeah. Why? Do you have one?"
"Indeed I do. Do you want to see it?"
"Kind of." He wasn't trying to whisper, but it seemed rude to demand, loudly,show me your sex toy right now.
“I’m about to go meet a man I think about way more than is healthy. And he doesn’t even know who the fuck I am. Also, he’s straight. Also, I sleep with girls. Life is too short to deal with unnecessary drama.”
“Deion couldn’t help it. He laughed and moaned at the same time. So fucked. He was so, so fucked. ‘I am totally fucking bi.’
Carlos grunted beneath him. ‘No shit, Sherlock. You’re ninety-five yards up my ass. We left the Land of Straight Dudes behind at the kickoff.’”
“Thinking about it was for sure making him crazy, though. Were they, weren’t they . . . ? Whatever the fuck they were thinking, he didn’t want to know. The whole thing with Deion felt like some kind of soap-bubble magic, a slowly expanding sphere of wanting and happiness and orgasms with each day bringing new experiences . . . and a higher risk of the inevitable pop of reality breaking through the magic.”