As I opened the door to my condo, I could hear Britney Spear's version of Lady Gaga's "Telephone" echoing from my housemate's bedroom.
I put down my bag on the brown leather sofa and crossed the living room, pausing awhile to knock on his door.
"Pasok!"
I opened the door and was not the least bit surprised to see my housemate, Xander, lying on his bed in his underwear. As always, I can't help but admire his toned physique, which he maintains through his efforts in an expensive gym, his membership of which is maintained by his two or three rich gay lovers.
He was rifling through an FHM magazine, not interested in the girls, but more on the sex articles.
He continued browsing thru the mag and wasn't looking at me when he asked, "How was work, honey?"
I plopped down next to him on the bed, as he inched closer to me, his naked torso serving as my pillow.
"I got in," was my simple answer.
He nuzzled my neck, teasing me delicately with his nose, "Of course you'd get in, with your credentials and all. You really should have applied for a higher position. Being an agent doesn't become you."
I was silent, my thoughts wrapped around the fact that I got in to Peter's company. That I was mere moments away from finally meeting him again, face to face.
Xander inserted his hand into the shirt I was wearing, rubbing my stomach lightly.
"A penis for your thoughts?" he asked, giving me a coy smile.
I gladly complied.
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