Confession

My ex comes out and says that I have the best cock of all his boyfriends. Just like that. Over the crowded bar. We met up last night. We'd had a couple of beers. A few. He says it loud enough for the couple next to us to look over. She smiles. He doesn't. She looks down at the front of my pants.

I stop myself from spontaneously touching it. Just. Is that an instinct for protection?

I look at the couple. I try not to laugh. I look back at Sam.

It's got just the correct amount of girth. He smiles. He drinks his beer.

I try not to blush. I can't. I don't know what to say. I stutter.

I ask about his other boyfriends, you know, generally, not speicially.

He confirms that Michael Brown, the guy after me, had a small one. Thought so. He was always way too aggressive.

My boyfriend is out of town. He smiles again. Is his grin just a little wonky? Or is it the eye?

Good old Scott. Developer. Luckiest son of a bitch who ever lived. His first resort, on entirely borrowed money, was a financial gold mine. Get's really antsy when Sam starts calling him Blake, whenever I'm around. Last time at his birthday weekend, I thought it had gone really well, I hadn't heard him say it once. On the terrace, goodbye breakfast, He passes his fish dish to me, he can't finish it. Give that to Blake... um... er... he grimaces.

We stared at each other. Scott was behind me. I didn't want to move. He pushes the plate at me. I spin around and Scott is waiting with arms out and mouth open.

That's the eighth time I've counted, how about you? I hand him the half-eaten plate of snapper.

Sam doesn't find it funny when I bring it up over beers. That's not funny. He smiles. Seriously, I've got to stop doing that. I tell you.

At his last birthday, right at the end, I snuggled into him and danced dirty, just for a minute. Sam was drunk, Scott was watching, I wondered how far I could push it. I knew Sam would respond, just because we've known each other since we were kids in school, practically. He knows, and I know, that nothing is in a cuddle from me to him, other than friendship.

Sure, we were a couple. Sure, everyone wanted us to stay together. Sure, his mother said,

Well, you know which one I'd prefer...

...when Sam got... what?... committed to Scott. But that was all kids stuff, childhood sweethearts, we were far too young. Truthfully, that was a whole other life time ago.

We danced close. I thought we fitted. I've got lifetime status. Can you say the same thing? I thought, as I looked over at Scott. He only glanced twice. He kept chatting to Audrey... looking like he was having fun.

To Scott's credit, he didn't even seem to stress. He continued chatting; the smile didn't leave his face. But he was keeping his eye on us, just out the corner, I could see that.

You have got the best cock, he whispers, so we aren't gazed upon again as drunks, again, by the slightly up-tight couple, who are both drinking their drinks through straws.

Well, to tell you the truth... I've never had any complaints.

Listen to you, Sam says. He has the most beautiful smile.

I knew Michael wasn't doing it for you, I said. You always looked in need. You always looked unsatisfied. Pissed off, even... back then. Michael hated my guts.

I'm not saying anything bad about Michael.

I hold up my little finger. He nods.

Hard act to follow, He says. He sips his beer. I'm only talking about size. Don't praise yourself in any other department... He... er... says.

We gaze over our beer glasses, as we drink.

It was hot in there.

My coat flaps open. The wind blows. The footpaths are, relatively empty. I smile about both instances, more or less, in exactly the same way.