“How many times do I have to tell you that superheroes are not toys? They’re collectibles. Huge difference.”
“Whatever.” I gazed around my room. “Aren’t you sad I won’t be your neighbor anymore?”
“You haven’t been my neighbor for four years.”
“I know but I still stay here all the time.”
“Most of the time, you crash at my cabin in your—” he used air quotes with his fingers “—nook.”
“Awe…” My eyes blurred with fresh tears. “My nook.”
“Mila, quit crying. You’re being such a girl.”
“I am a girl.”
He chuckled, nodding toward my nightstand. “Can I go through those drawers or are their vibrating things that are going to attack me in there too?”
“For your information,” I laughed. “I didn’t use a vibrator until I was in college.”
“Why use one at all?”
“I think that question is self-explanatory, don’t you think?”
“Not entirely. How often do you use it?”
“How often do you…” I cocked my head to the side. “You know…”
“Fuck my hand?”
“I guess that’s one way of putting it.”
“I’m not answering that question until you woman up and say the words.”
“Leo.”
“Mila, you’ve had sex. You’ve seen a cock, you can say the word.”
“Fine! How often do you masturbate!”
“Damn,” he teased. “You don’t need to get all riled up over how often I beat my meat. But if you must know—”
I threw a pillow at him. However, he caught it before it hit his face.
“At least once or twice a week. Depends on how many times I got my dick wet that week.”
“How romantic.”
“I try. Your turn.”
“I’m not telling.”
“Damn, that often, huh?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?”
“Oh, come on! I told you.” He leaned against my dresser, folding his arms over his chest. With an arched eyebrow, he asked, “How often do you use your vibrator to make yourself come, Lala?”
“It depends.”
“On?”
“The situation.”
“Now you’ve really piqued my curiosity. What kind of situations do you find yourself in that your buzzer is needed?”
I could feel my face blushing.
“Lala, it’s me. Why are you all of a sudden being so shy?”
“We don’t usually talk about my sex life.”
“Or lack of, but we talk about everything so I’m very curious about how many times a week you beat around your bush.”
“I don’t have a bush, thank you very much.”
“So, no fanning the fur for you?”
“Leo!”
“How often do you butter your muffin? Visit the bat cave? Auditioning the finger puppets? You know, dialing the rotary phone? Getting lost in the deep end? Finger painting? Paddling the pink canoe?”
I laughed so hard my head fell back.
“I could go all day.”
“Funny, I’ve heard different.”
With an amused expression, he questioned, “Seriously, how many times a week are you petting your pussy, Mila?”
I thought about it for a second. “Sometimes I don’t use it by myself. Sometimes I use it during.”
“During what?”
“Sex.”
—Leo—
“Interesting.”
“How so?”
“I’ve never had an issue with my cock not doing its job.”
“So, what? You’ve never had a girl use one with you before?”
“Absolutely not.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“It’s a catastrophic thing. My dick only has one job, to make you come. If I can’t do that, then I have much bigger problems than a girl bringing in her teammate to finish the fucking job I was supposed to do in the first place.”
“Ugh! Why do guys get like this? My ex was the same way, he hated when I used it. He also hated when I played with myself during sex too. It’s not a hit to your ego, Leo.” She gestured to her core. “There’s a lot going on in here. Trust me, it took me forever to figure out how to do it myself.”
“It’s not that hard to find the rigged g-spot. Spoiler alert, it gets tighter and wetter the closer you get to it.”
“I’ll make sure to pass that on to the next guy I’m with.”
I narrowed my eyes at her. “If you need to pass it on to him, then you shouldn’t be fucking him.”
“How am I supposed to know if he knows what he’s doing before I actually sleep with him?”
“The fact you don’t know, tells me all I need to know about your shit taste in men.”
“Well I guess not every man can be as skilled as you are.”
“Clearly.”
She smiled. “How am I ever gonna navigate men without you?”
I didn’t want to think about her moving away in three days. This was hard enough as it was. I had to give myself a pep talk before driving over to her place to begin with. I was about to lose my shit just thinking about the fact that she wouldn’t be a drive away.
Within distance.
Close to me.
Gone.
Instead of throwing a temper tantrum like a child, I replied, “Your shitty taste in men hasn’t changed since you started dating, I can’t imagine that’s going to change because I’m not there to guide you.”
“Will you visit me?”
I nodded, unable to form the words without feeling like I got kicked in the balls.