- Tyler -
I inhale deeply and settle back into the couch next to Gavin just as Ava walks in from the kitchen with a glass of water in her hand.
“Did you just smell your fingers?” she asks me in horror.
Gavin and Charlotte got home from dinner as I stripped the condom off of my dick, leaving Ava in the bed blessedly silent after orgasm number four. You’ll be happy to know there was no blood shed. Actually, Charlotte will be happy to know that since she does the laundry and won’t have to worry about getting scrotum blood out of sheets.
I wiggle my fingers in the air at her and smile. “Yes, I did just smell my fingers, thank you for asking.”
She looks at me in revulsion. “Why? Why would you do that?”
Gavin and I look at each other and shrug, speaking at the same time. “It’s a guy thing.”
Ava looks like she’s going to puke. She mutters something about us being gross before heading down the hall to return to bed.
“I don’t understand why women don’t get that? You would think it’s a compliment that I want to carry around her smell with me forever,” I complain.
Gavin nods his head in sympathy.
“So, you haven’t said a word about meeting your dad the other day. I know I kind of made fun of the fact that his parents hated him for giving him such a shitty name, but other than that, how was it?” he asks.
I let out a big sigh, the smell of my fingers forgotten for the moment. “Dude, I don’t get it. I mean, my mom had to go through profiles to pick out the sperm she wanted. Out of every sperm in the book, that’s who she picked?”
“Well, it’s not like she was looking for a father figure, just a donor. Who cares if you guys have nothing in common,” Gavin states.
“Um, nothing in common would be an understatement. The guy asked our waitress for crayons during dessert and then ate the blue ones because he said they taste like purple. I had to keep all of the napkins away from him because he tried to eat those, too, and when the bill came he asked if he could pay for it with red Skittles. It was like eating lunch with a toddler.”
Gavin raises his eyebrow at me. “So, you’re saying he was really immature? Wow, that doesn’t sound anything like you.”
I punch him in the arm and scowl at him. “I will have you know, I’m a fun, enthusiastic immature. This guy was just fucking weird.”
“Did you talk to your mom about it?” Gavin asks.
I don’t even want to think about my mom right now. When I went to the house to pack a bag and tell her I needed some time away to get my thoughts in order, she gave me a book on Kama Sutra and told me some new sex moves might cheer me up. I tested out the Inverted Cow and the Splitting Bamboo in the kitchen earlier and, while those did perk me up a little bit, The Deckchair and the Lustful Leg totally fucked up my thigh and now I have a pulled muscle. All I wanted from her was an explanation as to why she never told me the truth. All of those fucking sex ed homeschooling classes she made me sit through and she never once thought it would be a great idea to tell me she picked up some strange spunk at a drive-thru window?
“I’m done talking to my mom. Her answer to everything is sex,” I complain.
“Um, your answer to everything is sex,” Gavin reminds me.
“Well, yeah, but it’s just gross when it’s my mom suggesting it.”
Gavin leans back into the cushions and we both kick our legs up on the coffee table. “Did you ever think that maybe the sperm bank made a mistake? I mean, I don’t want to get your hopes up or anything, but I’m sure that sort of thing happens from time to time. Maybe they just pulled the wrong record or something.”
That very thought crossed my mind right about the time Dean O’Saur started eating butter packets with a knife and fork without removing the foil wrapper.
“What if I find out that the sperm she used isn’t even what got her pregnant? My mom told me herself she was kind of a slut and had a foursome the same week she went to the sperm back. God only knows who my father could be. Jesus God, what if it’s someone worse than Dean O’Saur?”
Gavin laughs. “I don’t think there is anyone worse than Dean O’Saur, unless he has a brother named Terry Dactyl.”
“Actually, that’s not a bad name. That would make me Tyler Dactyl. That’s kind of bad ass,” I consider.
“It doesn’t have to be someone worse, you know. What if it’s someone totally awesome? A rich, Hollywood actor or something. You could be a millionaire and not even know it.”
The more I think about this, the more excited I get. “Oh, my God, what if my dad is Peter New?”
Gavin stares at me in confusion.
“Um, hello? Peter New? The voice actor for Big Macintosh on My Little Pony? God, it’s like you live in a cave or something,” I complain.
“I was thinking more along the lines of Brad Pitt or Robert Downey, Jr.”
Now it’s my turn to look at him like he’s crazy. “Who?”
Gavin shakes his head at me and I ignore him. This idea has already taken root inside my brain and it totally makes sense. I mean, Peter New is from Canada, which is like right by Ohio. I think. I could see him hanging out on college campuses and hooking up with my mom. I mean, I can’t actually see that part or else I’d have to pour bleach in my eyes, but it has to be true.
“Even if it’s not Peter New, it could definitely be Trevor Devall,” I think aloud. “I mean, he’s an older dude but my mom wouldn’t care about that. She’s an equal opportunity banger.”
When Gavin doesn’t reply, I turn my head to see he still has a blank look on his face.
“God, you are so out of the loop it’s scary. Trevor Devall is the voice of Hoity Toity. Not one of my favorites, but still a great character in his own right. He always makes good choices, he’s an Earth Pony and a major representative of the fashion world. Which would totally explain my attraction to Ava.”
“Alright, slow your roll there, Pinkie Pie,” Gavin interrupts. “I’m pretty sure your dad isn’t going to be someone who does voices for My Little Pony.”
“For your information, Pinkie Pie is a chick. It’s not biologically possible for a chick to be my dad, nice try. And hello? You thought my dad could be Robert Pitt or Brad Downey, Jr. or whatever,” I fire back.”
“That’s not…you know what? You’re right,” Gavin says, throwing his hands up in the in defeat. “Your dad could technically be anyone and you won’t know for sure unless you contact the sperm back.”
“I already contacted them.”
“HOLY SHIT!” Gavin and I shout in surprise at the same time as we turn to see Molly standing at the end of the couch staring down at her cell phone.
“Where the fuck did you come from? How long have you been here?” I demand.
She just shrugs without taking her eyes off of her phone. “I’ve been here all night.”
“Uh, all night?”
Molly finally looks up with a blank expression on her face. I swear to God she’s a fucking robot or cyborg or some shit.
“Yes, all night. I was here for the wood chipper incident and listened to you cry about a My Little Pony butt plug. You know I’m only nineteen, right? I’m in the prime of my youth and you just scarred me for life.”
Gavin turns away from Molly to look at me. “Wood chipper?”
I shake my head at him. “That’s for another time, my friend.”
Looking back at Molly, I get back to the important matter at hand. “You said you contacted them. Who did you contact?”
She rolls her eyes at me and if I wasn’t afraid that she’s a secret agent with the CIA and probably knows a hundred different ways to decapitate a man, I’d probably get lippy with her.
“I emailed the sperm back while you two Nancys were learning a new Friendship is Magic secret handshake,” she deadpans.
“There’s a secret handshake?” Gavin asks.
“NO! Ponies don’t have hands! And the MLP’s wouldn’t reduce themselves to such trivial group activities,” I inform them with disgust.
“Anyway,” Molly continues. “They emailed me right back and apologized for the mix-up. Turns out you were right. Dean O’Saur isn’t your real dad. They’ve been converting all of their old paper files to a new system and got your mom’s information switched with someone else’s. You have a meeting with them tomorrow at noon.”
And with that, Molly shoves her phone in her back pocket and heads out the front door.
“Well, the good news is, you don’t have to worry about sharing a meal of Crayolas at Dean’s house for the holidays. The bad news is, when I marry Charlotte, I’ll be related to Molly and I’ll always have to sleep with one eye open,” Gavin says with a sigh.
Looks like it’s back to the drawing board for me. Fingers crossed that the sperm bank gets it right this time. Otherwise, I’m heading to BronyCon and finding my dad on my own.