"What should I do?" I've pulled up Griffin's Instagram profile and I'm debating sending him a follow request. I wanna see his pics. And he's studying to be a nurse which is in line with my career goal. Two people who have medicine in common can follow each other on Instagram, right? "I'm just scared he'll think I'm desperate."
"Just go for it," Emery encourages.
"Are you not hearing me? I'm scared."
"I just had your balls in my mouth, Brandon; I know you have them."
I watch him get up, my eyes drawn to his tiny little ass with those succulent round hemispheres. The scrumptious-looking globes jiggle slightly when he moves. Forgetting about Griffin, I get off the couch, loping towards him and slapping his ass with a breathy grin.
"You have a girly ass."
"What?! What does that even mean?" Emery's frown morphs into laughter when I corner him against the kitchen counter for tickles.
"It means I would fuck you."
"Well, too bad, mister, because I would never give anyone my ass. I'm not gay."
"Me neither, but as I said before: a hole is a hole."
I have a sudden idea.
"You may not love dicks, but I know you love hot dogs."
I walk over to the fridge. When I turn around again, my dick is sandwiched in a hotdog bun with a line of mustard running down the centre. Emery literally falls onto the ground laughing. I beckon for him to crawl over and he licks the mustard off between fits of giggles.