“Oh god, if I eat another taco I’m gonna barf,” I said, pushing back from the table. “So good. So full.”
“Quitter,” Teddy said, stuffing the last of a taco into her mouth. Seven? Eight? I don’t even know. These were not small tacos, either. “Best tacos I’ve ever had. I’m gonna gain ten pounds to my ass and thighs from eating so many, but fuck, so good. Worth it.”
“I’ll just drag you to Zumba and we can dance our asses off, literally,” Kat said, polishing off another taco herself.
Teddy made the sign of the cross. “Begone, Satan. Exercise is from El Diablo and I categorically refuse to do it.”
“Wanna know my secret? Lots and lots of very athletic sex,” Laurel quipped. Or at least, I figured it was a quip. With Laurel, you never knew. “And walking. I walk every night. I put in my earbuds and I turn on an audiobook and I walk. And squeeze my butt cheeks a lot. Firms ‘em up.”
“That’s exercise,” Kat said, droll.
“No, it’s just walking. I don’t even get warm,” Laurel answers, dead serious. “I don’t like to get sweaty and out of breath unless there’s a dick inside me.”
“Just asking for a friend here,” I said, tracing my finger through salt on the rim of my margarita glass, which had not been empty at any point in the evening, which was beginning to wane into night, “but what counts as athletic sex? I mean, I like to think I get it on like Donkey Kong, but I’m not sure what constitutes as athletic.”
“Ever try the wheelbarrow?” Laurel smirked at me. “That’ll get ya sweaty real fast.”
I blinked. “The…wheelbarrow.”
“Yeah. Just what it sounds like.” Laurel took a long drink from her margarita. “He’s standing up, holding your legs, you’re face down with your hands braced on the floor, and he’s drilling you while you hold yourself up. Takes a lot of upper body strength.” She snorted, giggled.
“Unless you just do like a headstand sort of move, but the angle’s better if you hold yourself up.”
“Sounds hard,” I said. “Why would you do that? How is it any better than prone bone on a bed?”
“Because,” Laurel answered, pointing a finger at me, and I wasn’t sure if it was her finger wavering or my eyesight, or both. “Because of geometry. He can hold your legs wider apart, for one thing, and for another, it’s just a different angle. The dick feels different. I dunno. You just have to try it to understand.”
“Wow,” I snickered. “Just wow.”
“What?” Laurel shrugged, her expression demure and arch. “I like fun fucking.”
Zoe spluttered around a mouthful of margarita, caught it with a napkin, shaking with laughter. “Fun fucking?”
“Also known as adventure sex.” Laurel handed Zoe another napkin. “Although the two are slightly different. Fun fucking is weird positions. Like pretty much ninety percent of the Kama Sutra.”
“And what, pray tell, is adventure sex?” Autumn asked. “Inquiring minds would like to know.”
“Anything risky,” Laurel answered. “In the bathroom of a bullet train in Japan, or under the bleachers at your nephew’s football game, or…or handjobs under a table at a black-tie gala.”
I set my glass down slowly. “You have not.”
“Let’s make that a game of two truths and a lie,” Laurel said. “I’ve done two of those.”
Teddy stabbed a finger at Laurel. “I know for a fact you don’t have a nephew. And also that’s gotta be, like, illegal.”
“How in the hell did you manage it in the bathroom of a bullet train?” Zoe asked. “Those things are not large.”
“That was both risky and athletic.” She smirked, bit her lip with a lecherous gleam in her eye.
“It required careful timing to get both of us in there at the same time without anyone noticing. And then he leaned back against the wall and I squatted on his knees and basically twerked myself to an O on him. Tricky, but worth it.”
“I had no idea you were so kinky,” Autumn said.
Laurel held up a finger. “It’s not kinky. Kink is, like, bondage and S and M, and foot fetishes and furries. I just like fun positions in fun places.”
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