Passion & Ponies

“Hey, I earned my red wings with YOU. It’s only fair you reciprocate,” he argues.

“That was an accident! You banged my period right out of me.” Tyler laughs and puffs out his chest. “Yeah, I did. I should get that on a t-shirt. ‘This guy bangs out Aunt Flo’.”

He may be annoying, but he’s phenomenal in bed. I have to clench my thighs together just thinking about how many orgasms he’ll give me tonight.

“Fine, but if you get blood on Charlotte’s sheets, you’re explaining it to her,” I warn him.

Chapter 14 – Hoity Toity

I inhale deeply and settle back into the couch next to Gavin just as Ava walks in from the kitchen with a glass of water in her hand.

“Did you just smell your fingers?” she asks me in horror.

Gavin and Charlotte got home from dinner as I stripped the condom off of my dick, leaving Ava in the bed blessedly silent after orgasm number four. You’ll be happy to know there was no blood shed. Actually, Charlotte will be happy to know that since she does the laundry and won’t have to worry about getting scrotum blood out of sheets.

I wiggle my fingers in the air at her and smile. “Yes, I did just smell my fingers, thank you for asking.”

She looks at me in revulsion. “Why? Why would you do that?”

Gavin and I look at each other and shrug, speaking at the same time. “It’s a guy thing.”

Ava looks like she’s going to puke. She mutters something about us being gross before heading down the hall to return to bed.

“I don’t understand why women don’t get that? You would think it’s a compliment that I want to carry around her smell with me forever,” I complain.

Gavin nods his head in sympathy.

“So, you haven’t said a word about meeting your dad the other day. I know I kind of made fun of the fact that his parents hated him for giving him such a shitty name, but other than that, how was it?” he asks.

I let out a big sigh, the smell of my fingers forgotten for the moment. “Dude, I don’t get it. I mean, my mom had to go through profiles to pick out the sperm she wanted. Out of every sperm in the book, that’s who she picked?”

“Well, it’s not like she was looking for a father figure, just a donor. Who cares if you guys have nothing in common,” Gavin states.

“Um, nothing in common would be an understatement. The guy asked our waitress for crayons during dessert and then ate the blue ones because he said they taste like purple. I had to keep all of the napkins away from him because he tried to eat those, too, and when the bill came he asked if he could pay for it with red Skittles. It was like eating lunch with a toddler.”

Gavin raises his eyebrow at me. “So, you’re saying he was really immature? Wow, that doesn’t sound anything like you.”

I punch him in the arm and scowl at him. “I will have you know, I’m a fun, enthusiastic immature. This guy was just f**king weird.”

“Did you talk to your mom about it?” Gavin asks.

I don’t even want to think about my mom right now. When I went to the house to pack a bag and tell her I needed some time away to get my thoughts in order, she gave me a book on Kama Sutra and told me some new sex moves might cheer me up. I tested out the Inverted Cow and the Splitting Bamboo in the kitchen earlier and, while those did perk me up a little bit, The Deckchair and the Lustful Leg totally f**ked up my thigh and now I have a pulled muscle. All I wanted from her was an explanation as to why she never told me the truth. All of those f**king sex ed homeschooling classes she made me sit through and she never once thought it would be a great idea to tell me she picked up some strange spunk at a drive-thru window?

“I’m done talking to my mom. Her answer to everything is sex,” I complain.

“Um, your answer to everything is sex,” Gavin reminds me.

“Well, yeah, but it’s just gross when it’s my mom suggesting it.”

Gavin leans back into the cushions and we both kick our legs up on the coffee table. “Did you ever think that maybe the sperm bank made a mistake? I mean, I don’t want to get your hopes up or anything, but I’m sure that sort of thing happens from time to time. Maybe they just pulled the wrong record or something.”

That very thought crossed my mind right about the time Dean O’Saur started eating butter packets with a knife and fork without removing the foil wrapper.

“What if I find out that the sperm she used isn’t even what got her pregnant? My mom told me herself she was kind of a slut and had a foursome the same week she went to the sperm back. God only knows who my father could be. Jesus God, what if it’s someone worse than Dean O’Saur?”

Gavin laughs. “I don’t think there is anyone worse than Dean O’Saur, unless he has a brother named Terry Dactyl.”

“Actually, that’s not a bad name. That would make me Tyler Dactyl. That’s kind of bad ass,” I consider.

“It doesn’t have to be someone worse, you know. What if it’s someone totally awesome? A rich, Hollywood actor or something. You could be a millionaire and not even know it.”

The more I think about this, the more excited I get. “Oh, my God, what if my dad is Peter New?”

Gavin stares at me in confusion.

“Um, hello? Peter New? The voice actor for Big Macintosh on My Little Pony? God, it’s like you live in a cave or something,” I complain.

“I was thinking more along the lines of Brad Pitt or Robert Downey, Jr.”