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he gets closer, going to the locker room to get changed out of his gray sweats, our eyes lock for a second in the mirror, and I stumble. I lose my footing, hitting the belt and shooting off the end onto the floor in the blink of an eye. My forehead hits the floor with a thud, my knees sting, and my face burns with embarrassment. What. The. Fuck? I lie face down on the floor, trying to figure out what the actual fuck just happened and hoping the guys who just came in will just keep walking.
“Your sexuality doesn’t define you. You’re still you, no matter what gets your dick hard.”
“Such a dirty boy, getting turned on by being used.”
“What do you want, dirty boy? Do you want me to fuck you? To fill you up? Or should I drag it out until you’re desperate?” “Uh. Hng. Hu.” I can’t form words. I can barely make sounds, and he wants to have a fucking chat? “Drag it out, it is.”
“Come for me, use me. Please,” I whisper against his lips, and he shudders. “Make me your cumwhore. I want it.”
I shouldn’t be here with him. He feels too good. Like that first gasp of oxygen when you’ve held your breath too long and your lungs are screaming for air. He’s a drug I’ve become addicted to and I can’t afford the distraction.
I wish I could be what you need.
“Letting yourself be cared for doesn’t make you selfish. Wanting your own dreams doesn’t make you selfish.
“Everyone needs a person that’s safe.”
He’s so fucking perfect it hurts.
“Your mom is going to need you when I’m gone.” Dad’s scratchy words run through my head. It’s the only time I can still hear his voice. I don’t remember his laugh or stern ‘get your head out of your ass’ tone, only this one sentence from his deathbed. He died three days later.
“I would give my left nut to be there with you right now.” Joey chuckles, and I can hear the stubble scrape across his hand as he wipes his face. “Why the left one?” “So, my swimmers know how to act right, duh.”
“You’re worth everything.”
Theoretically, if rotting chicken was found in someone's dorm, and if the person who put it there was proven, would it get that person kicked off the team?
“What? I like my pastries with a side of dick.” Duh. “You’re broken.” “Don’t yuck my yum.”
“Miss Debbi,” I start, trying to find the words to apologize for her seeing me desecrate her pastry. “I am so sorry.”