“That’s fair.”
"So we get in the shower." Zo's voice dropped. "And he's looking at my dick. Like, looking at it. You know how good it looks. Remember?”
I rolled my eyes. “Actually, it easily faded from my memory.”
“Bullshit. Anyway, I was so glad I shaved my balls—"
“Zo, I don’t ever need the intricate details of a story. A nice summary is just fine.”
"Whatever. So I started washing off all the oatmeal treatment. All of it. Every inch of him. And his skin.” He snapped his fingers. “Nyomi, listen to me. Your grandmother needs to make that gunk into a product and sell it. She could make millions. Almost all of the rashes were gone. His skin looked fresh. New. It was like a whole different man. She has a serious recipe on her hands and I would love to dress her for the store opening."
I laughed.
As we got closer to the exit, a few of my guards got in front of us.
"Once he was completely clean, I told him to turn around and said, ‘We didn't get everywhere.’"
"Oh God."
"And that's when I started washing his cock, and you know I didn’t use a washcloth. Just my hands and soap—"
“You are so nasty.” I covered my face with both hands.
"Oh, he enjoyed it. Made noises and everything. And then the next thing you know, we were both washing each other off. And then I had him turned around, and I was inside of him."
My hands dropped and I stared at him. “Holy shit.”
"He said he'd never experienced anything like that before, and I told him, ‘Don't worry. I'll guide you.’"
“You were his first male experience?”
“Yes.”
“Poor guy.”
“Poor guy my ass. Three orgasms later, he passed out."
“Three?”
“Fuck yeah three. And then two more this morning, and now I’m here with you. In need of a new shower.”
I shook my head, laughing so hard my stomach ached.
And then he began laughing too.
And. . .I didn’t want to tell him the dark and heavy news. My chest tightened. I didn’t want to break this moment or him. I couldn’t watch his face crumble after so much joy decorated it.
Maybe. . .I’ll say that Hiroko is in Tokyo now. I could get everyone to play along and. . .days or weeks later I could tell him.
At the end of the hallway, one of my guards opened the door for us.
We stepped out.
The island was beautiful today. That was the cruelest part. The breeze came off the water warm and easy, carrying salt, plumeria, and the faint sound of children laughing somewhere beyond the tree line.
The path from the main house to the villas wound through gardens where three gardeners clipped in rhythm.
Further down the path, canopies of bougainvillea appeared above with these thick fuchsia petals that fell like confetti within the breeze. Their flowery perfume mingled with the salty air.
