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Honest Conversation Is Overrated

Actual Human Interactions Witnessed Or Overheard
In  Twentieth  And  Twenty-First  Century  America

Elvis Rex (Part 3: Prisms)

8/5/1998

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When I was seven or so my grandmother gave me a prism to hang in my window so I could watch the colors bounce around my room. A little green off the television set, some rainbow action on the handles of my dresser drawer, some red off the naked boy's back.

Naked boy?

Right, Seith.

The sun seemed almost abusively bright. Like it was trying to remind me of something.

Right, work!

I threw on some clothes, wrote a quick note for Seith, and went to work. Of course, it was actually my day off, so I pretended I had just come in to hang out. I talked with some of my coworkers for a few minutes, hit the grocery store and went home.

Seith and I had been up until about eight in the morning playing Breath of Fire 3. I was actually getting quite good at it.

I figured he would still be asleep when I got home so I opened the door very quietly. I placed the groceries in the kitchen and started to head up the stairs when I heard him talking.

Let's not even pretend that I'm not an eavesdropper on an average day. If you're in my presence and you need to have a private conversation, tell me and I'll go away for a while. Otherwise, I'm listening, and I'm taking notes.

"--absolutely beautiful. We showered together the other night and it was so hot. Seriously, it was some of the best sex I've ever had."

I rock. This beautiful boy is on the phone with (please don't let it be his brother) someone, and he's talking about how beautiful I am and what amazing sex we've has and--

"Seriously I have the smallest cock here." Ummmm. "We all sleep in the same room. Four bunkbeds. No, no, it's really comfortable. Unfortunately, the cutest one is straight. I know, I know. Aren't they all? Anyway, I should probably go, we've got a shoot in the park in a few hours and I have to get ready. Love you, too. Bye"

I am relatively sure I wasn't supposed to hear that conversation. I live alone. No bunkbeds, no other roommates and as previously mentioned my cock is not bigger than his. I begin to rationalize: he broke up with his boyfriend, and I'm the rebound guy and he's trying to make the ex jealous. No, it was his brother on the phone and he's trying to make him jealous. Or--

I get up and walk quietly back down the stairs where I loudly open, then close the door. "I'm home." "That was fast." "Yea, just did a little grocery shopping. Turned out I wasn't supposed to work today." "Cool."

"So it's your first day here, did you want to do some sightseeing or anything?" "Sure. Want to fuck first?"

I can't think of an occasion where I've turned down sex in favor of sightseeing. I hope that day never comes.

So up the stairs we go. Clothes fly off like monkeys in Oz. I throw him playfully on the bed, get my face real close to his and almost say "so which one of us is hottest?" but being a true male, I don't want to give up a chance for sex, so I decide to fuck first, accuse later.

The sex was amazing. There were a few times that I thought there really might be six of us in the room, and I just hadn't noticed. An extra arm would be kneading my back, I'd swear there'd be a tongue in my mouth, and on one of my nipples. I mean, we were bending each other into positions that the Kama Sutra knew about but didn't have the balls to write down. By the time we were finished it was too dark to sightsee. I was ok with that.

The prism was flashing streetlight patterns over the wall. The moon was hovering above the skylight, and I swear it was saying "Damn!"

All suspicions were forgotten. I don't think I would have been able to tell anyone what my name was by the time we were through. All I could remember was nibble, nibble, suck, lick, twist, thrust, thrust, wow. The questions would have to wait for another day.
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