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She’d been teasing us about incorporating helium, her artistic brain spinning up something about ‘ceiling blowjobs,’ but I thought she was kidding. We both did. We should have known Poppy was always serious when it came to our sexual exploration.
In our kitchen, a stupidly-hot guy - a redhead, which was quickly becoming a weakness for me - was scrubbing his forearms with dish soap in the sink, clown makeup flickering on and off his face in the process. Sure, great. Everything was totally normal. This was definitely super normal.
