Damn.I guess there is no cheating when ass-fucking is involved.
“It’syourass, darling. I’m just trying to take care of you.”
I’ll bet you are.
“Fine,” I sigh with feigned nonchalance. “What do I do?”
“Pick the smallest one and soak it in lube, then do the same with your ass. Get messy. Then turn on some porn and put it in.”
I don’t know why, but for some reason I didn’t expect it to be so straight-forward. Then again, how many times have I considered the best way to shove something up my ass?
“Maybe you should video-call me when you do,” I can’t see him, but I can hear the amusement in his voice, “in case you need me to talk you through it.”
“Mm-hm, so kind of you.”
Fucking asshole…
Oh, wait, that’s what he’ll be doing to me if all goes well.
“OK, what do I do after it’s in?”
“Get yourself off as many times as possible. I promise you’ll get addicted.”
There’s a pause before I hear AJ’s voice again.
“Leave the video on for that, too.”
???
“Are you on track to graduate next year?” Scott asks as he flips the kababs on the grill.
I can always count on Scott to interrogate me on my academic progress, just like I can guarantee there will always be some sort of meat cooking while he does so.
“I better be,” I reply, reaching for the platter of raw vegetables. “I’ll be out of financial aid after next year. But I applied for an internship with Wolfsson, so if I don’t suck, maybe they’ll hire me afterward.”
Scott looks over his shoulder with a whistle, clearly impressed. “When do you hear back?”
“Hopefully soon. It starts this summer and it’s a year-long internship, so, kind of a big deal.”
Initially, I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do with a degree in Computer Science and Engineering. Finding weaknesses and vulnerabilities in the code is my strong suit, so maybe going into IT with a specialty in cyber defense will ensure I don’t get arrested for doing it. Then again, the good ones don’t usually get caught, right?
“In that case, I’ll make sure to start askingyoufor vacation money and not the other way around,” he chuckles.
The glass door slides shut and my mom joins us on the patio, carrying a bottle of Chardonnay and three stemless glasses. Once a week, I go back home to Dire Ridge for dinner at Mom and Scott’s house, which usually results in me bringing back two shopping bags full of leftovers for my housemates. My mom pours us each a glass of wine, sliding mine across the table with a sigh.
I tip my glass to my lips, eyeing her. She seems distracted.
“How was Colorado?” she suddenly chirps in a more energetic tone. “Did you see Colson?”
I pause, holding the wine in my mouth for a few moments. “Yeah, finally!” I say, swallowing hard. “We did a lot of snowmobiling, it was nice to get out, even in the snow.”
“I spoke to him on the phone last week,” she smiles. “He was on his way to your dad’s. You never know where he’ll be these days.”
“I know, he really needs to come visit—here.”
I know my mom misses him, which is just one more thing that adds to my irritation about his nervous breakdown, PTSD, or whatever. It’s not his fault he is the way he is, and I shouldn’t be angry with him. But, given the situation, I need him to quit being an arrogant asshole, like usual, and get on my level.
“We might go visit him this summer, it would be a great excuse to go on an Alaskan cruise,” she muses. “I actually just shipped him a few things from his room. I’ve started cleaning out the bedrooms. You’ve already taken most of your things with you, so Colson’s room seemed—” she pauses, glancing at Scott’s back, “I don’t know…easier.”