“Everything. A hairy chest, stubble when he kisses you, the strength, the scent, the feeling of…” I laugh. “This is not an appropriate place for this discussion.”
“You’re right.” He leans back. “But I hope we can have it soon.”
“You watch porn?” I whisper.
“Lots of it.”
I clear my throat. “It is a good way to get through a long night.”
“Yeah.” He grins. “You’re definitely all grown up, aren’t you, Felix?”
“For a long time, Apollo.”
“Can I ask a question?”
“Of course.”
“Is the makeup thing totally cool in Paris?”
My body tenses as I shake my head. That was the cold shower I needed to calm my racing pulse. “No. I did not go out in public like this. I had trouble dating as well. I am obviously comfortable with my feminine side, but not all men want that.”
“Why?”
“Preference. I prefer men far more masculine than me. So do other men, no?”
“But there must be men who find you attractive. I mean, feminine looks in general?”
“Yes, of course.”
“You feel comfortable now?”
“Yes. I promised myself moving home I would not hold back anymore. I must be careful, of course. There are always people who will target men like me to do harm.”
Apollo frowns.
“But I will keep to safe areas. LGBT friendly neighborhoods. Miami is full of them."
“Yeah.”
“It is another reason why I prefer a face to face meeting. I do not want him to be surprised by me.”
“I don’t understand why anyone would have an issue with it. Like if women can wear makeup and pierce their ears, why can’t men?”
“I could write a thesis on it, but in one word, it is misogyny, no?”
Apollo tilts his head. “Explain.”
“To me, anyone who says a man who is feminine is a negative thing, is threatened by female power. Alternatively, you may think, innately, that being feminine means being weak because we have been taught this, no? Despite the overwhelming examples of women showing they are indeed far from weak. It is a narrative meant to make truly weak people feel strong.”
“I never thought of it that way.”
“I imagine you do not see women as weak.”
“Definitely not. The women I’ve known, my mother, others, are not even close to weak.”
“It is strength to merely exist as a woman. The challenges they face every day are nothing we can even comprehend. Even me as a gay man. I will not hide this part of me a minute longer. I am proud of who I am. I embrace the feminine power I have been gifted. It makes me stronger, not weaker.”
Apollo smiles. “That’s amazing. I agree, you look great. I’m proud to be out with you.”
“Thank you, Apollo. This was a good first outing to reacquaint myself with Miami. It will be difficult to top.”
He laughs. “Well, hopefully, we can do it again. My friends are your friends. They’re very social. We’ll get you out there again.”
I smile. “I am looking forward to it.”
After dinner we take a walk down the boulevard in front of the beach. It’s been so long since I’ve been to South Beach. The ocean air envelopes us, sticky with late summer humidity and thick with salt. I love it, stopping to inhale deeply as if it were reviving a part of me I put to sleep ten years ago.
Apollo steps behind me, gripping my shoulders but saying nothing. His touch, his closeness, draws my desire back to the surface. I’ve pined for this man most of my life, and even though tonight was a perfect date, I have to remember it’s not romance he’s seeking. Not with me.
“Ready to go home?” he asks.
“Yes.”
We walk back to his car, and once inside, Apollo puts his hand on my thigh. “I hope we can do this again.”
“Anytime.”
“And if you have any tips for me to woo some guy, I’m all ears.”
“I will let you know.” As he starts the car, I study his profile. So strong, sexy, his jaw sharp enough to cut glass. “Maybe someone will come along and woo you.”
“God, I wish.” He laughs. “This is one area of my life I would happily give over control. Like I said, someone aggressive and pursuing me would be a dream. I could just follow.” He glances at me. “I’d like that.”
I swallow hard as a lump forms in my suddenly dry throat. I would aggressively pursue him with everything I had if I thought I had even a remote chance of getting him.
As we drive, my thoughts are wild, swinging from trying to convince myself to go for it, to remembering the many reasons it would never work. Yes, he’s sweet. And gorgeous. And painfully sexy. But he’s ten years older and my brother’s best friend.
When he pulls into my parents’ driveway, the high I’ve been riding all night, washes away like the tide.
“I had an amazing time tonight, Felix. It was so good to catch up. Literally. My brain has now adjusted. You are not nineteen anymore.”
I laugh softly. “No.”
“I can’t wait to get to know you even more.”
“Me too, Apollo. Thank you for tonight.”
“You’re welcome. Let me know how tomorrow goes with Briar.”
“Of course.” I unbuckle my seat belt. “Bonsoir.”
“Night.”
I wave as I enter the house. In my room, I strip out of my clothes and wipe my makeup off, studying my face as I brush my teeth. In bed, my mind won’t stop replaying the evening and every word out of Apollo’s luscious mouth.
It isn’t long before my hand creeps between my legs, stroking my hardening cock. I imagine dominating the gorgeous man, him on his knees before me, worshipping my dick as I teach him to suck it just right.
Yes, like that, Apollo.
Mmm, watch the teeth.
Open wide, lover.
I stroke harder, faster, my precum slicking the way as Apollo’s gorgeous face and curious eyes dance in my mind.
I want to taste you, imaginary-Apollo whispers.
Yes.
I arch my back, fucking into my fist. In my fantasy, Apollo’s mouth is hot, his gag reflex non-existent as he deep throats me. The pressure builds. My release teases my cock, swirling deep in my balls until I explode, Apollo’s name a desperate gasp on my lips.
I open my eyes, breathing hard as I come down from that high. I just got off to Apollo for the one millionth time in my life. I need to meet a man. One who can compete with a fantasy that will never come true.
After spending the morning on my masterpiece mille-feuille, I package it up, then head back to my bedroom to find an appropriate outfit to meet Briar. I want to show off my flair but keep it professional, so I choose a pair of light-gray slacks and a baby-pink button-up blouse. I bought it in the women’s section, but it’s a simple design that honestly anyone could wear. For shoes, I select my white espadrilles. I let my hair stay naturally wavy, giving in to the Florida humidity, and for my face, a simple gloss and light coat of mascara. Smiling, I nod at my reflection. I’m pleased.
Borrowing my mother’s SUV, I load the dessert into the front seat, along with my portfolio, and set the directions in the GPS. Twenty minutes. Perfect timing.