Toothbrush Training

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Brooke and I lean in head-to-head at our girls' Tuesday lunch. Her eyes sparkle "So you made it to the first round interviews. Yay Morgan, that's awesome." She waves a forkful of chicken caesar salad as I dodge a flying crouton. "I can totally see you as the Library Director." She grabs my forearm, shaking it, sending ice tea over my hand. I don't think she realizes how big she is. Or how petite I am compared to her.

"Oh gosh. I'm still on the fence. The dean, a guy named Percival, is a piece of work though, and he's the most important deciding factor."

Brooke scowls, "Wow his name screams academic!"

"I know! But he wants everything digital and online... almost doing away with the library itself. But I like having spaces for students to study and work together. I may be old-fashioned, but there's a special feeling when having a book in your hand. I hope we never do away with print."

Brooke nods thinking, "I still have the newspaper delivered on Sundays. I love it!" She waves her fork again and I'm on the lookout for debris. "Speaking of things in your hand, Dan was over Saturday night? Hmm? Hmm? How's your love life," she arches an eyebrow, but she's blushing too.

"I wouldn't call it a love life. It was great, though. You know he does this thing with his tongue where..."

Brooke has both hands out to stop me as I chuckle. She wants to hear this but doesn't at the same time. "Did he stay over?"

"See, that's the thing. Why don't I let him stay the night?" as I attack my burrata.

She's pensive and thoughtful, "You're just not ready. I mean, you've only been going out for a couple of months."

I crunch and nod. That must be it. I can't yet tell her of my "safe and sane" categorization of Dan versus this gnawing desire for adventure. Speaking of adventure...

"I'm going to meet a few people with Nick this Saturday," I say, trying to sound aloof and nonchalant.

Brooke's Diet Coke comes out her nose, "What? Nick is still in the picture? I thought you guys went to some party and that was it."

"Kind of," I elusively look over her shoulder, "he texted me a few times from France and now he's in North Carolina."

Brooke is all ears: "So, he owns a tech company and has business in those places?"

"I guess. He has a tech company in Scottsdale," I say, dreamy. "But he also does resort investing all over the world. He has a villa on the French Riviera."

Brooke leans back and dots the corners of her mouth with her napkin, "You like this guy Morgan, don't you? I can totally see it. Ooh, Nick and Morgan sitting in a tree, K I S S I N G," she sings laughing.

More like a sex swing at some swingers' club I choke back to myself. Brooke lays a hand on mine, "Hey, just be careful with Nick. I mean he's super hot and rich and all that, but I sense something about him." She stands up to jam back to her office.

"I will, and thanks for being there, Brooke"

"I'm the one who introduced you! Kind of... Let me know how the University goes and what we need to do next. You're getting that job, Morgan Reynolds," she calls over her shoulder, then stops, turns twenty feet away and cups her hands around her mouth, "Didn't you tell Nick he has a big..."

I wave her away and cringe down the bustling block. I'm working with Taylor tonight. I wonder how much I can tell him?

"OMG!!! You had sex with this Nick guy!" Tall, irrepressible Taylor's eyes sparkle. He pinches my arm in the Pottery Barn lighting section.

I swat his hand as I scan for customers, "About two weeks ago at my place. I couldn't help myself and invited him in." There is no way I can spill about the sex party and the kinky, passionate fucking in the hotel room. Yes, I tell myself, it was fucking. Hmm, can I get deep throat and anal feedback from Taylor? You know...WHY NOT?

"Oh, there is one thing I want advice on," I pull Taylor closer, "and I'm not playing the gay card." His eyes twinkle without interrupting. "He's... kinda..." Oh God, I'm blushing and holding my hands apart, visibly estimating the length of Nick's dick.

"C'mon MoRey, you can tell me. You know, the gay card," he actually punches my arm with a big grin. God, I love Taylor.

I take a deep breath, "How do you deep throat a guy when it's like... this big?" as I thrust my hands forward to show the final measurement. I can't look at him.

"OMG! I love it! Wow, lucky girl. And yes," he whispers as a couple heads into sectionals, "Size matters. I practice with a toothbrush to get past the gag reflex."

"What!?!?!"

"Oh yeah, check it out on IG or even YouTube. You work a toothbrush further and further into your throat until you stop gagging." It's like he's sharing how to get a stain out of linen. "Well, actually, you master control of the gag reflex. That's what I do. Oh and throat spray."

Before I can recover he's off, "Welcome to SECTIONALS you fun people."

Throat spray? Toothbrush training?

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