Page 77 of Flirtasaurus
I strip off my own pants and make a move to straddle jump him.
“Hold on, hold on, hold on,” he says.
Obeying, I grab his cock with both hands and pretend I’m swinging from it.
“Ohhhhh-oh-uh-ohhhh-ohhhhhhh!” That was my attempt at a Tarzan yell.
He freezes and looks down at me.
“What are you doing?”
“You said hold on.”
“Like… for a moment. Not to my dick.”
“Oh. Honest mistake.”
“Are you sure you’ve done this before? Because you’re starting to scare me.”
“Yes,” I say as I run my hands through his hair. “I swear on my life. Done it a whole bunch. There was Dan Patten, my high school boyfriend. He was my first, so you know, not so great. Then the Belgian exchange student guy I already told you about. Then Jimmy Lyons after my college freshman formal, oh gosh, and then Ron Warner for a solid two weeks during junior year, and ooooooh, then when I went abroad last spring to work on my thesis, of course, there was Jorge, and Jorge was—”
“Got it. I got it. No need for a full recap.”
“Alright, you asked, so.”
“Right. I won’t be doing that again.”
“Okay!” I say cheerily.
Then I realize why he asked me to hold on when he pulls a small square out of his wallet.
“Ooooh, it’s The Condom Moment. Hooray!” I clap my hands.
“The Condom Moment?”
“Yes. The Condom Moment can be so damn dramatic.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“In romance novels, dude!” I say like it’s obvious.
“Oh. Can’t say I really read romance novels.”
“Me either! They’re total crap!” I blurt, completely negating my statement from a moment ago.
“This is the second time this topic has come up. Calliope, you do know it’s okay if you read romance novels, right?”
“I DON’T, THOUGH! GOSH!”
“Okay. Fine. You don’t.” He holds his hands up in defense, the foil packet glimmering in the dim light of the exhibit hall.
“However, my mother? My mother’s shelves are packed with them and always have been. It’s embarrassing. When I was a kid, I used to sneak them into my room when she wasn’t looking and flip through to find the naughty parts, and let me tell you, The Condom Moment is always a hoot!”
“How’s that?”
I’m about to tell him, but then I think better of it.
“You know what? I took a novel-writing class once, and they said over and over again ‘show, don’t tell.’ So let’s continue with the proceedings, and I’ll show you what I mean.”
