Page 36 of Filthy Little Secret

It’s cute watching him walk around my little kitchen, his dick wagging about as he prepares his less-than-nutritious meal.

The more time we’ve spent together, the more I understand why it got so difficult for Keith.

Although we use fucking as the excuse to be around each other, there’s an awful lot of time when we’re not fucking. In the beginning, for the first week or two, he’d come and go. But after some time, he started sticking around to eat with me. Seemed like it was the easiest thing to do. Eating with me turned into watching TV with me, which is when we discovered our mutual obsession with RuPaul’s Drag Race. Before we started fucking, we’d both watched all the seasons, and now we’re caught up and re-watching them together. Commenting. Laughing. Joking about the contestants. It was just something to do between fucks back when we started, but it’s also made Tim seem more like a friend than a fuck buddy. And that’s a dangerous direction for things to be heading in.

I don’t want him like Keith did. Fuck no. I could never imagine being with him as more than what we’re doing, but I still like him a hell of a lot more than when all this started.

“Which episode is this?” he asks as he walks into the living room.

“William Belli’s exit,” I say.

“Ooh. I like it.”

He plops down beside me and takes a bite of his cereal.

“It was this or Roxxxy Andrews vs Alyssa Edwards.”

He chews and swallows before saying, “Eh, we’ve watched that one enough.”

“Oh, I meant to ask before the whole you-fucking-the-hell-out-of-me thing. Did Nanna’s appointment go well yesterday?”

It’s funny asking about her after what we just did, but since we started hooking up regularly, I’ve spent more time at his place. Hanging with him and his nanna Kitty. I may only know her a little bit from our brief interactions, but I really want to know how she’s doing.

They weren’t getting any results back this time. Just testing, but still, I want him to know he can chat with me about any of it if he needs to.

“It went well,” he replies, making himself comfy on the sofa beside me, his dick drooping low to the cushion. It’s hard not to look at that massive thing when it hangs like that. “We’ll hear back next week. I’m not too concerned.”

But I can tell by the way he says it that he really is, and I understand why.

I’ve learned Kitty was diagnosed with breast cancer two years ago and that Tim was the one who had to be there for her and take her to her appointments for radiation and chemo. And not only that, since she couldn’t work, he had to pay the bills.

“They did do her bloodwork, and her red blood cell count is still kind of low, but not so much that he thinks we have anything to worry about. They think her body’s still trying to recover from the shock of all the rounds they had to do.”

He takes another bite of cereal, and in the silence, he glances around, as though he just realized how effortlessly that exchange happened. The way I just did.

It almost felt like the way I would catch up with Greg about shit before we broke up. How we’d hang. How comfortable and at ease we felt together.

I want to ask if this is how he used to talk to Keith, but I already know the answer. This is what he meant would happen.

And I can see how Keith got the wrong idea.

We’ve stuck to Tim’s rules, but that hasn’t kept things from changing—usfrom changing. And while I can say with confidence I can’t imagine being in a relationship with Tim, there are times where I wonder if I’m already in one.

He hasn’t done anything to lead me on, though. It’s like he said. He doesn’t have friends, so if he’s excited about a good payday or frustrated about an asshole client, I’m the one he talks to. And on the other hand, if I get a good grade or some asshole customers at the restaurant barks at me, I talk to him. Other than that, we hook up and go our separate ways.

He doesn’t stay the night or anything.

He’s a cool guy. And a hot guy, so I can see why they fall head over heels, especially as I gaze at that beautiful body I’ve been lucky enough to get to fuck so frequently. A body I’m proud to have come on so many times.

We’ve both been each other’s sticky, messy buddies, and I love it. I love letting loose with him.

I think that’s what Keith’s issue was. There’s something intense about the fucking. Something that’s so wild and reckless, and it feels like if Tim cut me off, I’d have withdrawal, but it doesn’t change that I know what this is and that I’m not stupid enough to think there could ever be anything more.

“Anyway,” Tim says, like he has to combat the silence. “Just gonna be expensive. Everything’s a fucking bill. Insurance doesn’t cover shit, that’s for sure. And the business…eh, just not going real good. Everyone is jumping ship for scripts right now. And the frat parties aren’t as frequent, so that means less money for me.”

It raises a question I’ve been wanting to ask for some time, but I never felt like we were close enough for me to pry.

“So the bills…is that how you got into…?”

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