Page 117 of The Influencer

“I’ve always looked,” he says.

“No shame even.” I tsk. “Shocking.”

“What can I say? I’m naturally curious.”

“Have you always known you’re bi?” I ask.

“I wouldn’t go that far. I really did think I wanted a wife and kids growing up, but when Olivia cut me off, I guess I started going down some rabbit holes.”

I grin slyly. “Porn rabbit holes?”

“Yes.”

“And…?”

“It appealed to me,” is all he gives me.

But I’m unsatisfied. “But why?”

Asher doesn’t even hesitate with his answer, like he’s been dying to talk about this with someone for months. “First off—in gay porn, it never looks like anyone’s faking anything. Straight porn is so—dramatic. It started to seem lame in comparison. Men fucking each other looked more primal—raw. Like lust always wins out over the actual ‘scene’ or whatever.”

“And nothing about it disgusted you? Ever?”

“You like sushi, right?” he asks.

I stop in my tracks, sand squishing between my toes. “You can’t change the subject like that. I call penalty. Or whatever.”

“Foul,” he corrects me. “You call foul.”

“Whatever, like I said?—”

“I’m not changing the subject,” he insists. “I’m painting a picture. Go with it.”

I let out a pointed sigh. “Yes, Asher, I like sushi.”

He tugs at my hand and gets me walking again.

“Do you remember the first time you had it?”

“Yes,” I say. “With distinct clarity.”

“Did you love it? Did you go straight for the sashimi? Or did you get a little sick when you thought about it too hard?”

“I worked my way up from California rolls to sashimi over about a year,” I tell him. I’m from West Virginia for fuck’s sake. We ate rabbit more often than we ate beef. God, I am a cliché.

“That’s kind of how it was for me with gay porn. I started out liking the kissing, blow jobs, rough rear entry anal—but the first time I saw a dude with his hairy legs in the air, I peaced out. Went right back to straight porn for about a week, and then, gradually… anyway, you get where I’m going.”

“But the first time we had sex?—”

“I wanted to see your face,” he finishes.

“Oh.”

“Also, you have nice legs.”

I blush so hard. “Oh. Thank you. I’m a dancer, you know.”

“You are a dancer.”

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