“You haven’t searched for it online?”
“I thought it got taken down.” He blinks at me like a sweet Jersey cow. For being an Instagram influencer, he’s not the most adept at navigating the internet. “Haveyouseen it?” he asks, clutching his imaginary pearls.
“Several times. It’s my new favorite spank bank material.”
This seems to encourage him a little. “So… it was good?”
“Very good. Very authentic. But I don’t want to spoil it for you. Do you want to watch it with me?”
He considers the screen for a moment. He looks perplexed by my question, but then he often does. “Are you going to make fun of me the whole time?” he finally asks.
“I do have a few notes for you.”
His eyebrows furrow. He really shouldn’t do that—emoting is how you get fine lines and wrinkles—but if I tell him so, he’ll have to go inspect his face in the mirror to make sure one didn’t magically appear. And that could take quite a while.
“Okay, fine,” he says moodily. “I mean, you’ve obviously seen it already anyway.” The tone of his voice tells me he’s looking for confirmation.
“Many, many times.”
He waves his hand at the screen and goes back to munching. I hit play. On screen, Holly takes a swig from a liquor bottle and spits it into Adam’s gaping mouth. I’m disgusted by the transfer of bacteria, but the prospect of doing that to Adam myself is a turn-on.
“What were you drinking?” I ask.
“Tequila.”
“Dangerous.”
“Yeah, no shit.”
“I do appreciate their use of a tripod. Camera shake gives me the worst headaches. Was the camera set up already or did they configure it while you were there?”
“It was like that, like they were doing a screen test or some shit,” he says bitterly.
“They wanted to have the very best angle of the bed. When you saw the camera, what was your first thought?”
“That they were kinky as fuck.”
“Did it turn you on, the idea of them watching you later?”
“Yeah. I mean, that’s why I said yes. No offense to Holly, but she doesn’t really do it for me, and Diego is just—” he makes a sour face and shakes his head.
“Just what?” Color me curious.
“He’s too much. Over the top. Like Jacques Toussaint inSunset Cove. It’s like, dude, give it a rest, you know?”
“You don’t like to be romanced?”
“Not like that. Way too much cringe.”
God forbid anything cause my Gen-Z Adam the dreaded cringe. My attention returns to the screen where Adam now stands, a little wobbly on his feet, while Diego and Holly work in concert to divest him of his clothing.
“What was Diego whispering to you?” I ask, appreciating this opportunity to get the director’s cut.
“All kinds of shit, mostly about how he wanted to get inside me. I’m not surprised he came out as bi. He’ll probably write a ballad about my ass before long.”
I chuckle at the thought of it. Adam is rather hilarious sometimes, a nice bonus. Unlike most men, I don’t mind talking to him, even spending time with him. My past lovers got on my nerves soon after I ejaculated inside them. And afterwards, they were so damn clingy.
Onscreen a fully naked Adam is now caged from behind by Diego’s lithe body, his toned, brown arms embracing Adam’s chest in a way that makes me want to hack them off with a machete. Diego strokes Adam’s prick while realization slowly dawns, and then panic when Adam sees a bare-breasted Holly shimmying out of her designer mom jeans.
