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Nineteen years old/May
It was a quarter to one in the morning when everyone left and Patrick and I started cleaning up the kitchen. Luckily there wasn’t much to clean up other than some empty bottles and plastic plates.
“So, how were the models?” Patrick asked while he wiped down the counter beside the fridge.
I dropped a few more empty bottles in the recycle bin and then glanced at him. His attention was focused on the counter so he wasn’t looking at me.
“They were fun.”
“That’s good,” he mumbled. I turned around to look at him again, but he seemed to be really focusing on a spot he was cleaning.
“They really just wanted to look at my body and dick. They played with me and both of them sat on my face while they sucked me. But the blowjobs weren’t anything to write home about,” I said honestly.
Suddenly a damp sponge hit me on the back of my neck. I turned to see Patrick grinning.
“What?” I asked.
“I hope to God you don’t write home about that. Your poor mother would faint if she heard about the stuff her Hollis did to those sweet, innocent, models,” he teased.
I laughed and playfully punched him in the arm as he leaned against the counter.
“She’d probably pass out if she knew you crawled into bed with me to sleep some nights,” he added.
His tone had changed. The comment sounded as if he was cutting himself down either for needing comfort from having nightmares or wanting me beside him. I went over to him and braced my hands on either side of him against the counter. I looked into his eyes and saw sadness. I didn’t want him to think that I felt any reservations or regrets about anything he and I did.
“I don’t care what my mom, or anyone else, thinks of what I do. And whatever you and I decide to do isn’t anyone’s concern.” His eyebrows relaxed, and he looked less stressed as I voiced my opinion. “I don’t want you to beat yourself up, or feel bad, for needing or wanting anything, okay?”
He nodded and said, “Okay.”
“Let’s finish cleaning up so we can go to bed. I’m exhausted,” I said.
I went into the great room to collect any plates, cups, and bottles. When I picked up some things from the coffee table in front of the couch where Patrick and Avery had gotten comfy, I decided to ask him about his evening with her.
“How was Avery?” I asked.
“She was good. I took her to my room and she blew me, but…” His voice trailed off. I looked at him as I walked back to the kitchen with some plates.
“But what?” I asked.
“I must have been tired or overthinking things.”
“Why do you say that?”
He seemed shy and maybe even a little ashamed about something.
“She got me hard, but I didn’t come. I think I’m tired is all.”
I nodded, but I couldn’t help but think about what Wyatt said earlier about how a blowjob from a guy was way better than from a woman. There was a good chance there wasn’t anything wrong with Patrick. It might just mean Avery wasn’t the best dick sucker. I decided to tell Patrick what Wyatt said because I didn’t want him beating himself up tonight for not coming.
“Wyatt said something during the party while we were talking to Mateo and Levi. I can’t remember which one, but either Mateo or Levi was saying if we ever had a bi need, to stop by their place,” I began and then paused to take a seat at the breakfast bar. Patrick stared at me, waiting for me to continue. “Anyhow, Wyatt commented about how he dates women and all, but there’s nothing quite like having your dick sucked by a guy.”
“Seriously?”
“What?”
“I mean, he seriously blurted all of that out? He hardly knows us… or them,” he pointed out.
“Well, I think Wyatt was planning on getting well acquainted with Levi and Mateo.”
