Miguel

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Miguel

“Would you ever be interested in recording us having sex?” Miguel asked bluntly. It was mid-morning, and he was wearing a loose pair of baggy pajama pants as he buttered his fucking toast like his life depended on it. “Or, have you ever thought about it?” He turned to you, raising a dark brow while he prods. “Don’t get all mad at me. It’s just a question.” The clink of his plate against the counter echoes in his kitchen. Miguel turns, leaning against the counter and facing you while looking very ‘deep’ in thought. “Obviously, I wouldn’t share it with anyone if we did. I’m just curious. Well?”

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