The cock looked tiny and frail. The white briefs he was wearing had yellowish green stains on the crotch.
“Ew, Tyler. What’s that? Is that why they call it the drip?” I was probably the one who gave it to him, and he was feeling all the symptoms. I didn’t have any. Who knows how long I had been infected. It didn’t even burn when I peed. There were no yellow or green stains on my panties.
We decided our gonorrhea and chlamydia were good excuses to leave town. That night, after getting the medication from Sherman Oaks, we drove to Houston. I have always had warm feelings about Texans. My dad’s family all live in Texas, but I don’t speak to them. Maybe it’s more like they don’t speak to me. I haven’t seen my father since he disappeared when I was fourteen. But I lived with him in Texas, briefly. It was in a town called Pflugerville, just outside of Austin.
Tyler and I made it to Houston the next morning. We drove all night, through the darkest parts of New Mexico and West Texas. We did cocaine the entire drive, so we were paranoid about every single light we saw in the middle of the desert. There were dozens of tiny red flashing ones. We were convinced we were being tracked by UFOs.
Tyler’s grandparents let us stay with them. They had a neat 1970s house that reminded me of The Brady Bunch . Tyler’s grandmother made us Frito pie. We stayed in Tyler’s old room, which was right next to his great-grandmother’s room. Tyler had been raised by his grandparents, Emmett and Naomi. They called him Scooter. I thought it was darling. He had such a loving family. The only thing wrong with them that I could see was that they were solid George Bush and George W. Bush fans.
We stayed at Tyler’s grandparents’ house for five days. That was how long our gonorrhea and chlamydia lasted. It was a pleasant way to live through the duration of our STDs, except for the constant lies we told to all of Tyler’s family. Why did we have so much money? How did our jobs allow us to take off for five days on such short notice? What exactly did each of us do? I couldn’t take being around Tyler’s family for very long because it felt too awful to lie. And it was too hard to keep track. Was I a secretary, a personal assistant, or a production assistant? Did Tyler sell cars or was he in sales? Did I get a big tax refund, or did I have a trust fund? We kept on having to go into detail with the lies, which accidentally got changed from person to person sometimes. We lied to everyone but Tyler’s younger sister, Desiree. She’d already witnessed firsthand what we did.
Desiree had come to visit us for the annual Coachella Valley Music and Arts Festival, a giant gathering in the desert outside of Los Angeles. Coachella was a major reason Tyler and I continued to do porn. Tickets for the thing were rather pricey, and we were so hungry to attend that we used it to justify selling our bodies. The event takes place every year in April. We began doing porn in March. Porno funded our party pilgrimage. We could buy as much coke and ecstasy as we needed, which was a couple thousand dollars’ worth. I remember saying how exciting it was to see all of these infamous bands. Now, I can’t even remember who played.
We flew Desiree out from Houston. She and Tyler had the same mother, but different fathers. Half-siblings, like me and my sisters. Tyler’s mom was married more times than my mother, but they are both named Cheryl. Desiree looked like her mother in the face. She was pale and very pretty. Her eyebrows were severely plucked, but she had big, blue eyes and a perfectly straight nose. Her whole family treated her like she was much older than seventeen. She quit going to high school but claimed she was on “independent study.” I knew what that meant. It’s a legal version of her mother letting her drop out of school. My mom did the same thing and put me in the “independent study” program when I was the same age. It’s for
“Ew, Tyler. What’s that? Is that why they call it the drip?” I was probably the one who gave it to him, and he was feeling all the symptoms. I didn’t have any. Who knows how long I had been infected. It didn’t even burn when I peed. There were no yellow or green stains on my panties.
We decided our gonorrhea and chlamydia were good excuses to leave town. That night, after getting the medication from Sherman Oaks, we drove to Houston. I have always had warm feelings about Texans. My dad’s family all live in Texas, but I don’t speak to them. Maybe it’s more like they don’t speak to me. I haven’t seen my father since he disappeared when I was fourteen. But I lived with him in Texas, briefly. It was in a town called Pflugerville, just outside of Austin.
Tyler and I made it to Houston the next morning. We drove all night, through the darkest parts of New Mexico and West Texas. We did cocaine the entire drive, so we were paranoid about every single light we saw in the middle of the desert. There were dozens of tiny red flashing ones. We were convinced we were being tracked by UFOs.
Tyler’s grandparents let us stay with them. They had a neat 1970s house that reminded me of The Brady Bunch . Tyler’s grandmother made us Frito pie. We stayed in Tyler’s old room, which was right next to his great-grandmother’s room. Tyler had been raised by his grandparents, Emmett and Naomi. They called him Scooter. I thought it was darling. He had such a loving family. The only thing wrong with them that I could see was that they were solid George Bush and George W. Bush fans.
We stayed at Tyler’s grandparents’ house for five days. That was how long our gonorrhea and chlamydia lasted. It was a pleasant way to live through the duration of our STDs, except for the constant lies we told to all of Tyler’s family. Why did we have so much money? How did our jobs allow us to take off for five days on such short notice? What exactly did each of us do? I couldn’t take being around Tyler’s family for very long because it felt too awful to lie. And it was too hard to keep track. Was I a secretary, a personal assistant, or a production assistant? Did Tyler sell cars or was he in sales? Did I get a big tax refund, or did I have a trust fund? We kept on having to go into detail with the lies, which accidentally got changed from person to person sometimes. We lied to everyone but Tyler’s younger sister, Desiree. She’d already witnessed firsthand what we did.
Desiree had come to visit us for the annual Coachella Valley Music and Arts Festival, a giant gathering in the desert outside of Los Angeles. Coachella was a major reason Tyler and I continued to do porn. Tickets for the thing were rather pricey, and we were so hungry to attend that we used it to justify selling our bodies. The event takes place every year in April. We began doing porn in March. Porno funded our party pilgrimage. We could buy as much coke and ecstasy as we needed, which was a couple thousand dollars’ worth. I remember saying how exciting it was to see all of these infamous bands. Now, I can’t even remember who played.
We flew Desiree out from Houston. She and Tyler had the same mother, but different fathers. Half-siblings, like me and my sisters. Tyler’s mom was married more times than my mother, but they are both named Cheryl. Desiree looked like her mother in the face. She was pale and very pretty. Her eyebrows were severely plucked, but she had big, blue eyes and a perfectly straight nose. Her whole family treated her like she was much older than seventeen. She quit going to high school but claimed she was on “independent study.” I knew what that meant. It’s a legal version of her mother letting her drop out of school. My mom did the same thing and put me in the “independent study” program when I was the same age. It’s for
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