"I like his vibe," I said eventually. "He's different from other guys I've met online. He's not like the rest of the assholes out there. I mean, he's not an asshole at all. He tried to be one for a hot minute but couldn't keep up the act."
"Well, that is to be applauded," Andy replied. "You said there was a breakup?"
I nodded, murmuring in agreement. "A bad one. He's admittedly fucked up."
"And you want to fix him."
"I don't want to fix him," I whisper-yelled.
"You want to fix all the boys," Andy replied.
"In the past, I've tried to fix a boy or two, yes," I conceded. "But I don't want to fix this boy."
"You want to fix his broken heart," she sang, "with your vagina."
I sniffed, playing hard at the indignation. "I have no desire to do that nor has he given me the impression he wants me to do any fixing."
Andy laughed. "No, honey. He wants you for the fucking."
"That's accurate, yes. Like any good man would, he's suggested he's quite talented at it. The fucking."
"Oh, is he now?" she cooed.
I decided to confess everything. "He says he's working with nine inches and he can work with it for at least half an hour."
She bobbed her head. "You have my attention."
"I don't want to get involved in a dead-end situation," I said. "But…I don't know."
"There's nothing wrong with wanting to get laid. Especially when high-quality equipment is involved." She shrugged. "If you want someone to give you permission to get laid, enjoy it, and not worry about fixing him—I'm giving it to you. It's okay to have a dead-end relationship even when you're trying to find The One. Sometimes, dead-ends turn into cul-de-sacs and everyone loves a cul-de-sac. They're reliable real estate."
"That's some reliable wisdom." I jerked my chin toward the dresses hanging from the rail. "Should we even bother trying on clothes?"
She shook her head. "I want to see this guy's profile. Let's stalk him before you get him naked."
"I'm getting him naked now," I muttered. "Okay. That progressed rapidly."
"Don't play coy and virginal with me," she chided.
I pulled my phone from my back pocket and swiped it to life. My messenger app flashed with several unread messages from RRRooster441. "Looks like he's in a talkative mood today."
"Hm," she murmured, glancing down at the screen.
Mr. Nine: Are you…MizMaggie, are you holding out for proof?
Mr. Nine: My god. You are. You want to know if the juice is worth the squeeze.
Mr. Nine: OK. Not gonna hold that against you since I made it all about the D.
Mr. Nine: Fuck. I admire it.
Mr. Nine: Here you go.
Mr. Nine: (IMAGE ATTACHED)
We leaned closerand simultaneously gasped when a photo filled the screen. As far as dick pics went, it was beautifully done. Clothed, trapped behind trousers, but undeniably hard. Circumcised too. No harsh lighting or awkward grip on the base. No ugly feet or ball hair to take away from the heart of the matter.
"I do enjoy when I can identify a man's belief system before he gets his pants off," I said.
