"Oh," I said again, softly this time. This was it. I looked over toward the entrance. The older man was craning his neck in my direction, but his body...was blocking the entryway. Taking a deep breath I pulled up my yellow shirt, forcing myself not to stop, my face burning red as the man behind the counter grinned all the more. After pulling my top up over my breasts I just stood there, shaking."The rest, sweet honey, and hurry," the young man urged me.I wasn't sure what he was getting at, and. You can see my nipples poking through the material."Always answer the door dressed like that do you?" you ask with a smile."Oh hush and come in, it's cold" I reply grabbing your hand and pulling you in, closing the door quietly behind us. I lean back against the door and pull you hard towards me, both hands in the waistband of your jeans. You put out your hands to stop from falling then lower them to my waist as I kiss you and wriggle my hands further down the front of your jeans, restricted in. As we moved forward through to the galley kitchen we sort of brushed and briefly pressed against each other several times in the confined space. I didn’t try to avoid it and neither did he and to be honest, I quite liked it. We sat for while on the soft cream leather couch making small talk and drinking cloudy lemonade that he’d poured into two very large wineglasses. I was intrigued by his lifestyle and asked, "Whereabouts do you sleep?" He stood up and walked to the far end of the salon. Fortunately, Dan at least unconditionallyaccepts me as one of the guys, though his idea of what a 'guy' should beis very different than mine. If I even mention my friendship to theAngels' partners, or style my hair differently, or even wear a t-shirtor jumper with a designer logo on it instead of a Star Wars logo, I getlabelled 'Joey Essex' and/or asked when I'm going to be on Love Island.One consolation is that the other guys, especially Mac, get as much shitfrom him as I do, but that doesn't.
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