“Me too.”
“The first time I watched it was at Lenny Brewer’s house. Lenny thought he was hot shit because his parents had a VCR and a big TV, and his dad went to Shreveport twice a week for his job and brought back movies from Blockbuster. I was so jealous of him.”
“When was this?”
“I was probably in the second grade, so it must have been around 1997.” I frowned and asked, “Why are you grinning like that?”
“I was in my first year of college. Sometimes I forget how young you are.”
“I’m turning thirty this year.”
“Exactly.”
My frown deepened. “I wasn’t making your point for you. I was just saying I’m really not that young anymore.”
“Sure you are.”
He returned to the couch with a remote and took off his cowboy boots, while I changed the subject with, “Would you like a drink? My bar’s pretty well-stocked, and there’s diet soda in the mini-fridge. Also, I’m not going to polish off eight takeout containers, so I hope you’ll help me eat what you brought.”
“I’ve got the drinks covered.” Lorenzo produced two half-size bottles of Prosecco from the cardboard box and tucked his feet under him. He’d settled in right beside me, so close that our arms were touching. We’d watched movies together many times, but the proximity was new and welcome.
As the opening scenes played, I let myself eat half the slice of cheesecake before setting it aside, and he snacked on some appetizers. I’d seen the film so many times that I had to fight the urge to recite the dialog. After a while, I glanced at Lorenzo and found him studying my profile. He asked, “Can you tell me what happened a few minutes ago? You seemed upset.”
“Actually, I was overwhelmed.” I took a breath and tried to find the words to explain it to him. “You know I spent most of the last decade working as a prostitute while waiting for my acting career to take off.” I wasn’t ashamed of that, so why wasn’t I looking him in the eye? I pressed on by saying, “Whenever I’d get intimate with someone, I was just going through the motions. I guess I got used to that, so to go from feeling nothing to feeling everything was just…well, it was a lot.”
I’d told him how I’d supported myself when we first became friends, and he hadn’t judged me for the choices I’d made. Plus, it was in the past, since I’d been able to quit when I moved to the resort. But maybe I was bringing it up again to make sure it still wasn’t an issue. It was one thing to know a friend had worked as a prostitute, another thing entirely to know that about a potential sex partner.
Lorenzo was so kind, though. He took my hand and said, “Tell me what you need.”
“You.” There was way too much behind that single word—too much truth, too much longing—but it flew from my lips before I could stop it. Instead of letting it hang in the air, I kissed him again.
Something ignited between us with that kiss. We tumbled over each other as we pulled off our clothes and tossed them aside. Soon we were both naked and splayed out on the couch. All of it was still overwhelming, but I just went with it.
I was glad we could skip the conversation that would normally have to happen right about now. He was such a good friend that he’d actually accompanied me to my last two STD screenings. He’d even gotten tested at the same time, just so I wouldn’t feel self-conscious, which meant we both knew our results were negative across the board.
He caressed my skin as he licked and kissed his way down my body. I knew where he was headed, but before he could get there, I shifted around and knelt between his legs. Then I wrapped my lips around his thick cock and gave him what I hoped was the best blowjob of his life. He came in just a few minutes, tangling his fingers in my hair and bucking into my mouth as he cried out.
Afterwards, I pulled on my pajama pants while he caught his breath, and he asked, “What about you? I’d like to reciprocate.”
“Next time.”
Just as I started to worry that things would turn awkward after taking that leap, Lorenzo flashed me a satisfied, goofy grin, which made me happy. He found his briefs and pulled them on, and then he took the throw blanket from the back of the couch and covered us with it.
After we curled up together, he opened one of the Prosecco minis and handed it to me before opening the other for himself. “We missed a bit of the movie,” he said, “but here’s what I think happened—dinosaurs.” I chuckled at that and put my head on his shoulder.