Page 43 of For the Fans
“Yea, except that he has the biggest mouth in the entire world,” I mutter.
“Maybe not a bad thing.” She winks.
“Not the point,” I sigh. “Plus, he’s as gay as the day is long. He’s not gonna go near your lady parts.”
“Okay, okay, fine. No Zeb.” Her head slants. “What about Micah?”
“Micah isstraight,” I hum, and her gaze narrows.
“So are you…” Her lips curl, making her look even more evil, and now I’m burning up under my clothes.
“Yea… No shit.” I clear my throat. “But I just mean, he’s not going to want to… I don’t think he would…”
“You’re precious.” She runs her fingers through my hair before I smack her hand away, and she chuckles. “Just because there are two guys, doesn’t mean you need to hook up with each other. It could be more of a…centralizedeffort.”
“Meaning, we’d cater to you,” I sneer.
She fakes fluffing her hair. “Exactly.” I have to laugh some more. “Although, I think some of my fans would like to see it go down another way…”
My mind is beginning to wander, wading through the waist-high waters of what she’s suggesting.Yes, ever since I started my OnlyFans, I’ve been pondering… contemplating the idea of maybe interacting sexually with a member of my shared gender. But like with the account itself, I’ve felt the need to warm up to it.
Maybe having a threesome with Frankie and another guy could do that…
Just being near another dude while fooling around might be the perfect gateway to explore this newfound curiosity. To see if it’s even something I’d enjoy. Who knows? Maybe seeing a dick that isn’t my own right next to me in real life will be a turn-off, and then I could put this whole incessant wondering thing to sleep on the couch.
“I can tell by the way you’re staring off into space that you’re considering it, which I’ll take to mean you’re in.” Frankie’s raspy voice cuts into my thoughts.
Giving up the tepid fight, I sigh and shrug. “Fine. I’m in.” She squeals and jumps up and down, hugging onto me and shimmying us both around. “But just this one time! I don’t want to ruin our amazing friendship by adding sexandbusiness, the two things that areknownto ruin friendships.”
“Yes, yes. Fine.” She nods while releasing me, clearly trying to stifle her zeal. “Totally. It’ll just be a fun, one-time thing to make us some serious cash money, bay-bay!” she snickers while I roll my eyes, crushing my own smile.
“How are we going to locate a third member of this ridiculous little excursion…?” I mumble hopelessly.
“Simple, my dear boy.” Frankie grins. “All we need to do is find someone who needs money, and whose best interest would be in keeping this whole thing a secret.”
“Oh, that’s all?” I grunt sarcastically.
“Trust me…” She pulls her vape out of her pocket, sucking in a drag, then puffing candy-scented smoke in my face. “Around here? It’ll be easier than you think.”
little_ginger_sub7: I want to be an Oreo now. The best kind? Double-stuffed
diponchipzpls: Backwardz_Cap I have a leash, pls walk me like a dog
My first memory of being in a church was when my uncle Luke passed away.
He’d been sick for a while… Testicular cancer. Of course, I didn’t know much about it at the time, since I was only seven. But when he died, I expected information. Information I didn’t get.
I think my parents considered sharing the details of his illness with us kids to beimproper. Children aren’t supposed to know the grim details of how fucked up life can be. Apparently, all we needed to know was that he’d been sick, and now he was gone.
His funeral was a spectacle. In the Catholic Church, especially in South Boston, funerals are an opportunity to warn the still breathing. To make sure we know that God has no problem smiting down whoever He wants, so while you’restill here, youbetter give your confession, and take your penance with an almost masochistic glee.
It’s God’sgiftto us, after all… Hisforgiveness.
I remember being inside that large church on Washington Street for hours, which, to a child my age, felt like days. All of the standing and sitting and kneeling and praying… The Eucharist, the sanctification and purification… All that smoke everywhere, the hymns. Theritualsof it all I got my fair share of in the years that followed. But this one moment in particular, at my uncle’s funeral, I vividly remember the fear.
It was the first time that I actuallyfearedGod.
Not only the scary priests with their serious, solemn faces, or my father with his stern, judging eyes. I remember fearing that if I didn’t doexactlywhat God wanted me to do, He would take my life, and I would end up lying in a wooden box while people cried and knelt and prayed for absolution.
