Paul kept a hash mark tally of how many times Tristan said “he f****d my ass” during sessions. Today the total was already past ten.
“I thought I’d found someone different,” Tristan said as he looked up at the ceiling. “But I guess I didn’t.”
“Did you…uh, did you go about this date in a…in a different way like we talked about?” Paul could barely focus. Tristan lay on his back on the wide chaise Paul had angled so he could see as much of Tristan’s body as possible. Today, Tristan showed up in a cut off tank top and short shorts. Paul wondered if it were possible for Tristan to expose any more flesh and still be admitted to the building.
“No. I did suggest that we just meet for coffee, but he said he wanted to see my place, and he f****d my ass. We never even went out.”
“Did you…tell him
