Gramps being one of the more hard-ass professors at school isn’t the reason I’ve never touched Kyla, though, despite her near-constant attempts.
I’m just…not interested. And a huge part of that is that I can already see it playing out, just like every potential relationship.
We’ll get close, or at least pretend to. The question of intimacy will come up, and she’ll ask what I’m “into”. I’ll say I like it rough, which isbarelyscratching the surface, and she, like every girl before her, will assume that means I want to spank her a little andmaybeuse fuzzy pink handcuffs in the bedroom.
At that point, I have two options: pretend that I’m actually enjoying the fuzzy fucking Muppet handcuffs, or show her what’sreallylurking behind the golden boy facade. But if I choose the second option, watching her run away screaming is probably the ideal outcome.
Theless-than-ideal outcome would be what happened when I tried to show Cassidy, a high school girlfriend, whatreallygot me hard.
In hindsight, “surprising” her with zip-ties, a switchblade, and a hockey mask was, arguably, not the best introduction to my kinks.
What can I say: I was young, dumb, and horny.
But the outcome of that particular foray into “being my true self” was Cassidy’s father calling the cops, and me having to lie to my own dad.
Thankfuckit happened in late October, so my story that I was “trying to be funny with my Halloween costume” wasn’t totally unbelievable.
But I learned a valuable lesson the day Cassidy ran away from me in sheer terror and broke off our ten-month relationship via text message saying “don’t ever come near me again”.
I learned that unless you’reliterally perfect, don’t show people your “true self”. Don’t lay all those cards on the table.
Why should you, when you’ve got a perfectly good, shiny golden mask you can wear instead?
And that's exactly what I’ve done ever since.
Yes, my cousins and some of my closest friends have seen more of me than most. They’ve seen that the maskdoeshave edges, with something unidentifiable lurking underneath it. But and that’s as close as I’ve ever gotten.
And that’s fine.
I am what people want me to be.
The perfect son and heir.
Top of his class.
Captain of the Privateers.
New president of Para Bellum.
A guy you would feel totally safe leaving your sister alone with, but also the guy who has girls sliding into his DMs pretty much every hour on the hour.
I presentexactlyas the golden boy the world wants to see. And that’s how it’s going to stay.
My phone dings. I glance down and see Kyla’s latest digital come-on: a picture of her squeezing her tits together in herbra and making a kissy-face at the camera while suggestively cupping her vagina through her panties.
I exhale in vanilla flavored boredom.
I amalmosthorny enough to contemplate taking Kyla up on her suggestion.
Almost. But not quite.
“I can see I’ve lost your attention.”
I glance up at my dad sheepishly. “Sorry, just…school thing.”
He snorts. “Yeah, sure.” He rolls his eyes as he stands and drains his glass. “TellSchool Thingthat I say hello.”
I chuckle.
