Page 18 of Me Three
Lol. Nothing like that. Friday night is movie night by tradition, they reply, and that takes me by surprise.
I was never close with my parents. I had been looking forward to coming of age and leaving since I was fourteen and realized I liked boys. By the time I started studying, I left home to live with Carter, and I couldn’t have done it quick enough so to me, a family tradition, especially one that keeps after stepping into adulthood, is a huge mystery.
Sounds fun. What’s on the menu tonight?
Probably some cheesy Hallmark film my mom picked. But it’s okay. Dad and I can practice our eye-rolling in time for the Valentine’s Day cheesefest that’s coming. Although, I do secretly think he enjoys it, too.
You’re not into romantic films?
I would be. If they had more people like me falling in love. Besides, how many original ways can Lacey Chabert fall in love?
A belly laugh erupts out of me, making my whole body jerk, and I don’t even know why. It’s not like their message wasthatfunny. It’s not even a joke. But I can totally relate.
Get home safe and enjoy the cheese, I message and put my phone down.
My pizza has gone cold, but I don’t care—it’s better that way, anyway—and I find a movie on Netflix to tune out to.
Thanx x, comes the response from Tru and puts a smile on my face.
X huh? Technically, that’s two kisses they sent me as well, but who’s counting?
By the time I’m done with my food and beer, the movie is a quarter of the way through and I’m starting to get invested. I’ve gone for a cheese flick, too, just for the sake of it, and even though the acting is terrible, the script abysmal, and the plot all sorts of whimsy, I’m emotionally invested. Not that I would openly admit that to anyone but myself.
When the credits roll, I’m a blubbering mess for no apparent reason. Carter still hasn’t made an appearance, and Tru, I imagine, is at home with their parents rolling their eyes at the cheesy crap I apparently cry with.
I put away the pizza box and recycle the beer can, brush my teeth, and call it a night before Carter catches me with red eyes and thinks too much of himself and our fight.
As I lay in bed, lights out and the window propped open to let the cool winter chill in, I read Tru’s last message.
Thanx x.
I wish they were here to give me that kiss in person. Is that too weird? Am I stepping over unacceptable boundaries? And if I am, why do I not care more about it?
It’s with those thoughts in my head that I get lulled to sleep.
Or to be more specific, with those thoughts, but also with the image of Tru’s lips wrapped around my cock, too. How I go to sleep without beating off is a mystery even to me.
When I come to again, I feel my morning glory in its full mast, but I’m also wet all over. Have I been dreaming of Tru all night? And why the hell am I wet? Did I come in my sleep?
I open my eyes, but everything is dark. Did someone shut the curtains?
I turn to look at the window, but the curtains are drawn to the side, the window is still open, and the stars still bright in the night sky.
So, it’s not morning. Why the hell is my dick wet, though? And why does it feel so good I want to scream?
I look down at my crotch and find someone attached to it.
“Carter?” I whisper.
His mouth pops as he pulls my dick out of his mouth and the shape of his head turns to me, the glint of his eyes reflecting the night lights from outside the only clue that he’s actually staring at me.
“Shit. Sorry. Didn’t mean to wake you,” he says.
“What are you doing?” I ask him.
“I thought it was obvious,” he says.
It was obvious, but not clear why?
