Chapter 90

“You like?” Tom Alan took off his sweater.

“Of course.”

What better card for New Year’s than one shaped like a big foot? Tom Alan had made it himself, traced his own foot, and wrote all sorts of naughty American and Japanese sexual phrases on it. Things he would do—like a coupon book—for Milo.

“We gonna do all them things?” Milo asked. “Here in my living room, on my futon, since, nice guy that I am—”

“Mmm.” Tom Alan kissed him. “You are.”

“I gave up the bedroom to the brute.”

“Right here is fine. We may not get to them all. Hopefully, some.”

“I don’t even know what half of them mean.”

“I’ll tell you. No, I’ll show you,” Tom Alan said.

“What a shame it would have been had it gone unused.”

They engaged in some heavy-duty kissing, their eager lips smacking with a lot of spit and volume, their desperate bodies grinding with friction and sound. Then, with a sigh, Milo said, “We are very much the weaker sex.”

“Uh-huh.”