Page 10 of The Step Don't
He knows me too well sometimes.
“Yeah. She bailed. She had a good excuse, but you know.”
“I’m sorry about that. You want me to ditch Marty, come right home to cuddle you and hear all about your day?”
“You can’t ditch me,” Marty says, sounding stressed. “I will fail this test, lose my scholarship, and then some prick is gonna move into my room and make all your lives hell.”
“Yeah, ’cause you make all our lives so much easier. You know, come to think of it, let me have a minute alone with these flashcards…”
“You big shit,” Marty says.
“I’m teasing,” Colin tells Marty. “I’m not letting you fail this test. I got you.”
And he won’t let him fail; that’s the kind of guy Colin is.
So funny how a few minutes on the phone with Colin can cheer me right up after that bullshit with Mom.
“How about when I finish up,” Colin says, “I come back, we get some takeout, and you tell me all about your week? Then maybe a movie?”
“Oh,” Marty’s voice comes from the background. “You didn’t tell me I was keeping you from a date with your brother.”
Getting his in, I figure.
But Colin and I have gotten enough jokes about our relationship over the years that this sort of comment doesn’t really faze us.
“That sounds good,” I say. “Get going. I’ll be here when you get off.”
“Get off? I feel like we’re making more innuendos ever since we slept together.”
We share a laugh. Marty groans, and Colin tells him, “You started it. Just wanting to hear about how I woke up with Ash’s pretty lips around my dick.”
“I can’t hear you. I can’t hear you,” Marty sings, and I don’t have to be in the room to know he’s got his hands over his ears.
“My lips are pretty?” I ask Colin.
“Shut the hell up. You know you have pretty lips.”
Why does that make my cheeks warm? Kind of makes me think of last week when he was talking about my ass.
Whatever.
“Okay, get back to helping Marty. I’ll talk to you later.”
After we get off the phone, I return Darwin and Sagan to their cage and use some hand sanitizer.
Even though I feel better knowing Colin will be around later, I still feel kinda shitty. But I know just what I need to take the edge off. I plop down on the bed and roll over, retrieving lube from my nightstand, when my gaze shifts to my phone, sitting on the edge of the bed.
A wicked impulse stirs within me.
I pick up the phone and scroll through my apps until I see the symbol for Manzturbate—a live stream site where men post amateur videos, usually doing sexual things to earn comments and tokens you can trade in for cash. I first discovered the app a few months ago when a guy I hooked up with was telling me my load was worthy of some Manzturbate attention.
I was nervous about posting something online, but most of the guys on the app don’t show their faces, and after the idea kept coming back to me, it was hard to resist the temptation to give it a try.
Even harder the second time.
Am I really considering a third?
I hop up from my bed, heading over to my desk, where I set the lube down and rig my phone mount.