Page 119 of Consummation

“I never thought I’d see the day, either. And now it’s all I want.” I bite my lip. “Let’s just hope Kat says yes.”

Henn waves his hand dismissively at me. “Bah. Just dick it up and she won’t be able to resist you.”

I laugh. “Yeah, well, I’ve recently learned the whole dick-it-up-strategy might not bequiteas effective as I originally thought.” I steal another look at Kat. “At least not with Madame Terrorist.”

“I’m really happy for you, Josh,” Henn says.

“Thanks, man.”

“You’ve definitely come a long way from the dude who got YOLO inked onto his ass-cheek over a quote fromHappy Gilmore.”

“God, I hope so. Hey, what was that quote we were arguing about, by the way? I can never remember what it was.”

“Oh, it was really deep and profound. Grandma in the nursing home asks Ben Stiller if she can trouble him for a warm glass of milk because it helps her sleep. And he goes, ‘You could trouble me for a warm glass of shut the hell up!’”

I laugh. “Oh, shit. Really? No.”

“Yes.”

“Really?” I ask.

“Yes.”

“I got YOLO stamped on my ass overthat?”

Henn nods, laughing. “You werepositiveBen Stiller says, ‘You could trouble me for atallglass of shut thefuckup.’”

I shake my head. “God, I was such a little punk. Please tell me I’m not that big a tool anymore.”

Henn puts his hand on my shoulder. “You were never a tool, Josh—you’ve always been the greatest guy ever, right from day one. And you’ve only gotten better with age. You’re a fine wine, man.”

My heart pangs. “Thanks, Henn. Back at you.”

He smiles.

“Okay, well, this fine wine had better get back to his adoring public,” I say. “Thanks again for coming—and thanks for the favor.”

“Any time,” Henn replies.

We bro-hug again and then Henn slips into the crowd, saluting me as he goes.

My eyes drift to where Kat was dancing with Sarah a moment ago—but she’s not there. I reflexively look at my watch. Oh shit—it’s been way longer than twenty minutes since Kat and I made our “date.”

I practically sprint toward my office in the back of the gym, getting stopped at least ten times along the way by well-wishers, and finally manage to slip unnoticed through a door marked “Authorized Personnel Only.” Once inside my darkened office, I beeline to the bathroom in the back and rap softly on the door. “Kat?” I whisper.

The door opens a crack and in one fluid movement, Kat grabs a fistful of my shirt and yanks me forcefully into the bathroom.

“I just made myself come while waiting on you, Playboy,” she whispers, furiously unbuckling my belt, her eyes on fire. “You’re such a naughty boy for making me wait.”

“Oh, yeah?” I ask, my dick throbbing with anticipation. “My pregnant whore is feeling horny, huh?’

She reaches into my pants and strokes my hard-on furiously. “Oh, yeah,” she says. “Heidi Kumquat’s on fire. She’s aching to give you your money’s worth, baby.”

“God, I love you,” I growl, my body jerking as she works me with her hands.

“I love you, too,” Kat says. “I love you, I love you, I love you.” She fondles my balls. “And I love your dick.”

Without further ado, Kat kneels down and swirls her tongue on the tip of my cock—right into my little hole—making me jolt. “Oh my fuck, Kat.”

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