I looked at my hand. This time it was only a small bunch of hair that pulled out, right from the crown of my head. Not as bad as yesterday.

A text from Elaine. “I’ll pick U up at 10. Ready 2 party?”

I had the urge to party as much as I had the urge to stick needles in my eyes. But this could be our last chance to have a good time together before my health continued its downward slide.

“Ready 2 party!” I replied.

Elaine arrived promptly at my door. I had given myself an extra two hours to get ready because of the obvious. A wig to hide my mostly missing hair. Makeup to hide the pallor. Long sleeves to hide the bruises from the chemo injections. Elaine looked me up and down appreciatively.

“Helen, you look fantastic! Are you feeling okay?”

“Yeah, pretty good. This look took some doing!”

I had an orange crop top with the band’s name inscribed across the front. My pants were a shiny silver and stopped at mid-calf. The upside about cancer is that, while you’re dying, which is a bummer, obviously, you do get pretty skinny. At this point, I had dropped the extra twenty pounds that has always haunted me and now I could wear crop tops and pedal pushers and not worry about looking fat. I suppose I don’t need to mention the downside.

Elaine took my hand as I navigated the stairs from my apartment. “Bran Tarantula awaits!” she said, her eyes gleaming in the twilight. She was referring to the lead singer in the band we were about to see. He was a gorgeous guy in his mid-twenties, only a few years older than me. He had long black curls that he mercilessly flung around onstage and drove all of our pussies into overdrive. He usually wore sparkly pants, big boots (I think he wasn’t that tall) and, rarely, rarely, a black shirt or patterned vest. Most of the time he was shirtless, which was fine with us. Bran was the main reason to see Range of Pando. Their music was great, a poppy mixture of fuzzy guitars and pounding dance beats, and their stage show was unmatched – fire, sparklers, giant LCD screens, and floating balloons shaped like giant robins, which came out when they played their biggest hit “Robin Red Breasts.”

Elaine’s car had seen better days but it would get us there. However, it was too small for Elaine, me, Ginny and Tyra to all ride together, so the others drove separately to the concert. Elaine was always a careful driver so I didn’t expect to get car-sick.

At the stadium, the ticket-takers worked furiously to handle the crowds trying to get to their seats. Our location wasn’t great but they were the best that Tyra could find, even though she was on the website the first minute the tickets were on sale.

As we sat in our nosebleed seats I could see Ginny and Tyra climbing the aisle towards us, smiling. We waved but it seemed like they knew where they were going. The excitement in the building was ramping up and the recorded music had started from the large speakers on each side of the stage.

We all hugged once everyone was at their seats. Tyra was bouncing up and down and couldn’t stop talking. This was her favorite band. She had followed them since they were a small-time Cleveland band with only a few uploads to SoundCloud. The rest of us loved the music and lusted after Bran but nothing like Tyra. In a way, I was here for her as much as for myself. And, this was a really nice way to secretly celebrate my life. None of my friends were willing to face my ultimate demise but I was going to be at peace with it. Going to a Pando concert now was my final FUCK YOU to the world. Yes, you could strike me down with illness but I was going to get back up long enough to spit in cancer’s face.

Any concerts I had been to before had always started late. Surprisingly, the warm-up band started within five minutes of the posted time and really rocked the house. I added a playlist of their music to my Spotify. The break between bands was a relief for me. I was hoping I’d still have the energy for Pando.

During the break, two men in suits came to our section and looked directly at the four of us.

“Tyra? Tyra Hubble?”

“Yes, right here,” Tyra jumped up.

“Hi Tyra, I’m Reginald. This is Thomas. Range of Pando reserves a place at the front of the dance floor for special guests. Please follow me to your new location.”

Tyra was at a loss for words, finally. “All of us?” Ginny finally asked.

“Yes, we have room for four. You bought four tickets, right?” Reginald looked at Tyra.

“Yes, four,” Tyra burped, still in shock.

The men just started walking down the stairs. We quickly gathered up our purses and followed them. As we walked, Tyra finally asked them why we were picked. The man just said it was a random thing the band liked to do – pick a few people in the nosebleeds and bring them down to the floor for the party. They dropped us off right in front of the stage. The people around us didn’t seem to know or mind that we hadn’t paid to be here, so I felt okay. If Bran flipped his luscious hair in our direction, we were going to feel drops of his sweat on our foreheads. This was the best spot in the place, but I worried about getting jostled around too much and maybe breaking a bone. Range of Pando fans weren’t mosh pit types, but it could still get pushy and elbow-y. I told Ginny my concern and she promised they would stand on each side of me for protection.

Within ten minutes of our relocation, the lights went down and the stage lit up. Intense pounding music swelled. The screens showed the shore of the ocean, waves lapping up onto the sand, first water, then blood. That was the cue for the guitars to start shredding. The band appeared with everyone except Bran and started playing the riff for one of their hits from last year “Envelope of Torment.” It was a really good song but didn’t compare to “Robin.” I was sure they would hit that song later – people would revolt if they didn’t.

Bran emerged from the floor of the stage like a rocket, propelled from a trap door up high into the air. His friggin’ hair was everywhere. I loved it. Tyra, Ginny, and Elaine were mesmerized. Pando rocked through their first three songs and started on the fourth. I had never been on the floor of a rock concert before. It was exhilarating! All of us were pulsing with the beat of the songs and were, somehow, in sync with all the other people on the floor.

Bran often came to the edge of the stage and sang to all of us. We cheered and screamed. My voice would be hoarse for days after this. He had an excellent skill of making it look like he was looking directly at each of us near the front and penetrating our souls.

Uh-oh. Reginald was approaching us again. This couldn’t be good. He was probably going to scold us for something or maybe even escort us back to our seats. We must have done something wrong.

Reginald looked directly at me. “Miss, I’d like you to follow me. Bran wants to meet you.”

I thought I would swallow my tongue. There was a lot of noise so I realized I must have misheard him.

“Sorry?” I smiled.

“Miss, please follow me to meet Bran Tarantula.” This time his voice boomed. I heard it alright and so did Ginny and Elaine. And Tyra.

Shock registered on each of their faces.

“We’re a group, sir,” Tyra pushed in front of Reginald.

“Yes, I understand. I brought you down here. But Bran is just asking this young lady to come backstage.”

I could tell Tyra was getting hot. Ginny pulled on her arm but Tyra wasn’t moving.

“Miss?” Reginald gently touched my shoulder with his heavy hand and I started to go with him. To say this was strange would be an understatement. Ginny was a tall, beautiful blonde with giant tits. Tyra was a part-time model and moved like a gymnast. And Elaine was the prettiest of us all, full-figured, always smiling, and more curves than a mountain road. Why did they pick me, a goofy, skinny diseased waif?

I started to piece together a justification in my mind. They were going to dress me up in something and put me on stage as some kind of freak and throw paint on me. Right? That was the only reason to ignore three captivating beauties and focus on cancer-patient girl. I did the best job I could with makeup, wig, and cover-ups but it was still pretty obvious that I wasn’t healthy. Didn’t most men like healthy women?

I was so in-my-head during the trip backstage that I couldn’t tell you how we got there. There were a few doors, a few curtains that we went through and then we came to the green room where the band probably hung out right before and after the concert.

“You sit here. What’s your name?”

“I’m Helen Bach, Reginald. I think there’s been a mistake. Shouldn’t you take me back? He’s going to be so disappointed when he sees me.”

Reginald’s eyes softened for the first time. He took my hand.

“Bran doesn’t make mistakes, Helen. I think you’re a pretty girl. Bran asked for one person in the crowd tonight to meet him. That person was you. Bran can see things, Helen.”

I didn’t know what to say so I didn’t say anything. Reginald gave me a comforting smile and left the room.

Thankfully I had brought my phone so I was able to scroll through social media for the interminable twenty minutes I was in the room by myself. In a way, it was a relief. The loud music and the people all around me on the dance floor were starting to give me a headache. Probably the chemo. This quiet room was nice, but I really missed my friends already.

Of course, my mind started to process each and every possible worry I could imagine. Was Bran going to rape me? Was this a gang-bang thing? Was he planning to embarrass me? Some kind of “pig party?”

I had almost completely worked myself into a negative lather when I heard clanging outside the door. The drummer for Pando strutted in followed by the rest of the band, including Bran, who came over to me immediately.

“Hello, beautiful. What’s your name?” Bran’s eyes were clear and penetrating.

“Hi Bran, I’m Helen,” I said, just as I had practiced.

“Are you wondering why you’re here?” Bran smiled.

“I really am. Did you see my friends? They’re all more beautiful than I am. They should be here, not me. Can I go get them for you?”

“Yes, you can bring your friends here into the room. But I’m not interested in them. I’m only interested in you.”

“Why?” During my wait time, I had resolved to ask this question before anything else occurred. I had to know why.

“Yes, I’m sure this is strange.” The other band members were loudly chatting and laughing but Bran and I had our own little reserved corner.

“Let me explain,” he started. “I have second sight. That means that I can see things that other people can’t.”

“Yes, Reginald told me. What does that mean? What does it have to do with me?”

“Second sight means I can see auras. Do you know what an aura is, Helen?”

“Yes, it’s like your spirit or something?”

“Yeah, that’s a good way to say it. It is an energy field that exists around your body. It’s measurable and tangible, but a lot of people think it doesn’t exist. You have a good aura.”

“I do?”

“Yes. Not just good but enchanting.”

“Like a spell?” I was not following his logic.

“Yes, you could say that. Your aura is very special. I’ve seen only one or two people in my life with a white aura.”

“White? Of course. Even my aura is boring.”

“It is the most interesting aura. It means you are spiritually connected.”

“Connected to what?”

“Connected to the universe. God. Buddha. Whatever you want to call it.” He placed his hand on my thigh. I didn’t object. He was sweaty but he was still Bran Tarantula. He had on the black and white checkered jumpsuit he had been wearing on stage, which exposed his hairy chest. I wanted to reach out and touch his exposed nipples.

“Okay, so you look for chicks with nice auras and you invite them backstage. For what?”

“Sex.”

“Oh. I don’t think I want to do that.” It just came out of my mouth. I don’t know why. I did want to fuck this rock god, but I couldn’t help thinking about all the complications it would entail. I couldn’t get pregnant because all my girl parts had been surgically removed from my body, but I could still be injured in a million different ways being that my bones were pretty weak and my organs were overtaxed from trying to fight the disease.

“That’s cool, Helen. I will never force myself on a woman. You can go back to your friends. They’re still in front of the stage waiting for you.

“Thank you, Bran. Thank you for being a gentleman.”

“Come back if you want to,” he said breezily.

He smiled a genuine smile and I left the green room, eventually finding my way back to the floor and my friends. Elaine held my cheeks and asked what happened. Ginny and Tyra crowded around me and were touching my back and legs, as if they were trying to find places where he might have touched.

“So you fucked?” Apparently, Tyra had forgiven me for harnessing her dream lover and was now just interested in collecting usable gossip.

“We didn’t fuck. He wanted to but I told him ‘no.’”

“You did what?” All gasped.

“I said I didn’t want to. I don’t know if my body could take it. He might break something.”

“So, the scuttlebutt is,” Tyra began, quoting from the groupie websites, “that Bran only likes to eat pussy. I don’t think he would stick it inside you, Helen, he just wants to eat you out. Shouldn’t hurt your bones.”

“I’ve heard that too,” Elaine added. “It’s a big thing with him.”

“He didn’t mention that,” I said. “He just talked about auras a lot.”

“Yes, he’s big into spirituality,” Ginny said. “Is that why he picked you? No offense, babe.”

“None taken, Gin. Yeah, I was wondering too. He said my aura is white.”

“Whoa,” Elaine breathed. “A white aura is a big deal, I think.”

“He said that too.”

“Girl, I think he just wants to lick you until you cream. That should be okay, right?” Ginny looked at me.

“I guess. Should I go back? He told me I could.”

“Yes!” all three women said at once. “Go!”

“He said I could bring my friends this time too,” I smiled shyly.

“Well, why didn’t you say so?” Tyra howled and we all joined hands and worked our way through the thinning crowd towards the stage door again. Reginald was there and recognized me.

“Back again?” he grinned at me.

“Yes, he said I could bring my friends.”

“Follow me,” and we were following this lovely large man once again.

Once we were in the green room I could see the band members were still milling around, trying to come down from the adrenaline rush. Groupies, technicians, and a few manager-types were drinking bourbon and smoking weed.

Bran was sitting on a wooden box talking to his guitarist. His face broke into a smile when he saw me and he stood up and hugged me.

“These are my friends, Elaine, Tyra, and Ginny. Tyra is a big fan.”

“And the rest of you aren’t?” Bran laughed.

“We’re all fans,” Tyra corrected. “I’m just more serious about it.”

“That’s good, serious Tyra. Can you tell me what the third song on the “Travellin’” album was?”

“Easy. ‘Too Much Too Soon.’” Tyra grinned with satisfaction.

“Pretty good. Drummer’s name?” He pointed to the band’s drummer, who was fiddling with a ketchup packet.

“Arnold Tamblin.”

“Right again. You’re serious, alright, Tyra.”

Tyra beamed. Bran turned his attention back to me.

“Your friends are welcome to stay here and eat and drink whatever they’d like. You come with me.”

I looked at my friends who did a cross between a shrug and a ‘shoo!” They looked really happy to be in this room with these rock stars so I felt comfortable leaving them again.

Bran took my hand and led me to an abandoned dressing room with his name on it.

“I don’t really need a dressing room but they always give me one anyway. Do you mind if we talk in here?”

Unwelcome thoughts of rape and dismemberment went through my head again, but I pushed them away.

“I don’t mind.”

Bran sat down on something that could have been a barber’s chair. I sat on a small stool next to him and he took my hand in his.

“I want to tell you more about your aura, Helen.”

“Sure. Knock yourself out.”

“Your aura spoke to me. It wasn’t just the color but something else that connected my spirit to yours. I could feel your essence even while I was on stage.”

I had felt Bran’s attention during the concert but had pushed it off as silliness. Apparently, it was real.

“So what do you want to do now?”

“I want to kiss you, Helen.”

My worries cropped up again. My teeth were a bit loose from everything I had been through, the medicine as debilitating as the disease. I was worried that one of my teeth would come loose in a kiss. I hadn’t been kissed in years, except on the top of my head by my dad.

“Okay,” I simply said.

He leaned forward in his barber chair and held my hands softly. Bran wasn’t a huge guy, but everything about him was rough and masculine. He had changed out of the jumpsuit and now was wearing a sleeveless purple shirt that exposed his beautiful biceps and a pair of ripped jeans. Purple long-toed shoes matched his shirt.

He was leaning towards me but hadn’t kissed me yet. It was like he was smelling me. Not smelling, but ‘taking me in” somehow. He was breathing deeply and was caressing my hands. Then I could feel his mouth on my chin as it moved up to meet my lips.

“I don’t think I can make love to you,” I whispered.

“Why not?” He pulled back a little.

“I...I’ve got...I have some health problems.” I hated to ruin the mood but also didn’t want to be removed from the room by paramedics.

“That’s okay. Here’s what I was thinking and you tell me if it’s alright. I’m going to lay your beautiful body down on that big table over there and I’m going to get on my knees and I’m going to lick your pussy until you burst. Do you think that will cause any problems for you?”

I had a wave of desire flow through me. “I think that will be okay. I just can’t be bounced around too much.”

“Helen, are you close to death?” He stared right at me.

“What? I don’t think...I guess, in a way, I am. I have pancreatic cancer and it has spread to my other organs. I’m told I have a few months to live.”

Bran sat back. “Whoa, that has to be hard for you.” He took my hands again.

“It is hard,” I said, trying not to cry and further fuck up this moment.

“That makes sense, actually, Helen. Everyone’s aura changes over time, and maybe your aura went white as a result of your health problems. Your aura is trying to supercharge your body, in a way.”

“So I’m going to heal myself?” I wasn’t buying this.

“Yeah, maybe. Or maybe the cancer will win, but your energetic body is fighting the disease, I’ll tell you that.”

His words washed over me like warm water. I started to relax.

“Now, where we were? Weren’t you going to eat my pussy?” I asked Bran with a smirk.

“I was about to!” he proclaimed, and picked me up and placed me gingerly standing up beside the table. He removed my crop top over my head and admired my chest, whisking his fingertips under each breast. Then he unclipped my pants and let them drop to the floor. We stood standing in front of each other for a long moment. Then he unfolded a clean towel onto the table top and lifted me again to place my bare bottom on top of it. I appreciated the thought of cleanliness.

I had never had my pussy eaten, to be truthful. I was a very shy teenager and then, when my cancer drama started at eighteen, it precluded a lot of types of fun, especially those that had to occur in private, away from the prying eyes of my worried parents. I was starting to think I would never have a meaningful sexual experience before dying. Being with Bran in this way was a nice thought. He was making me feel comfortable.

As he got started, Bran seemed to be preoccupied with my thighs. My legs were thin but still nice enough, I thought. It was a bit odd for him to spend time licking and biting my legs, but, at the same time, it did feel good, just not that sexual. Lick. Bite. Swirl. Repeat.

His long chaotic hair would dust my clitoris each time he switched legs, which I think he was doing on purpose. Ah, foreplay. I hadn’t experienced that before, either.

He was making yummy sounds and so I thought I should probably moan something too. It felt awkward but I did it and Bran seemed to appreciate it.

“I’m sorry,” I said involuntarily.

Bran’s head popped up from between my legs. “Why?”

“I’m probably sweaty down there.”

“It’s okay. I like your taste. It matches your aura.”

“And I’m really sorry for my boobs. I know they aren’t great.”

“Helen, I love your breasts. They’re perfect,” as his fingers danced from nipple to nipple. I’ve always been sensitive in this area, so I let out a squeal as he did this. He giggled.

“They’re small and I can’t get rid of this rash.”

“I only see beauty, Helen. I can only see beauty in you.” Bran jolted for a minute. “Helen! You are the true, the magnificent, the one and only...Robin Red Breasts!” quoting the name of his most famous song.

I had to laugh. I convulsed so hard Bran had to pull away briefly. He was laughing too.

Once we calmed a bit, he went back to the task, still working on my legs, but now a bit closer to my clitoris. I was feeling impatient. When would he be where he was supposed to be? Tongue on clit, buddy!

All this foreplay was causing pressure inside my body. I could feel it building. I think Bran was taking me on a journey that might culminate in an orgasm, someday, but he seemed to really enjoy the slow burn. In spite of myself, I was enjoying it too. I could also tell that Bran was checking my aura from time to time, looking up at my face and even above my head, maybe to see what colors emerge when he attacks certain parts of my body.

As I was wondering when he would get down to business, he brought his face up to meet mine and kissed me hard, full tongue. Then he proceeded back down my chest, taking each nipple into his mouth and biting lightly. The sensation was electric.

Then down to my belly button which was also hot-wired, apparently.

Slowly, ever so slowly, his mouth and scratchy whiskers moved to my crotch. With one swish across my clit, he lit my entire body aflame, like striking a match. As fast as lightning in a summer storm, a hot sensation rippled to the extremities of my body, fingers/toes/ears/elbows, and I started writhing in waves of pleasure that threatened to knock me off the table.

Bran, unaware, went back to the tops of my thighs again, but I forcefully grabbed his head and positioned his tongue directly over my vagina, hoping he would get the hint. Once again, he dithered to each side of my throbbing clit, only grazing it as he switched sides. The man couldn’t take a hint, apparently.

Still reeling from the wildness of him on my clit, I let him continue as he was. After a few more minutes chomping and slurping, he gave me a mischievous look. Then he dropped his chin and took my lonesome clit into his mouth. I moaned loudly, hopefully not so loud that others could hear in the hall. He didn’t lick or twiddle, he just held it there. The feeling was magic. There was a pulsing that I felt, even though Bran was remaining perfectly still. Pulse. Down my legs. Pulse. The insides of my arms. Pulse. Pussy to nipples. Pulse.

I started thinking about all the other women Bran had been with, probably one every night. And they probably lay on this table, on this fucking towel! The towel did seem pretty clean so I tried to bring myself back into the moment again. Here I was getting my pussy eaten for the first time in my life by the world’s biggest rock star and I was worrying about towels?

The pulsing was very prominent in my body now, it had a rhythm like music. I had the urge to tell Bran to fuck me now, to take off his clothes and put his dick inside me, but it seemed like he had a plan and I had a feeling I would probably like his plan.

Bran’s tongue started to tickle my clit. He swirled and sucked and sometimes just breathed hot air onto it. Things were not slow anymore and I could feel the sex swell up inside me. Bran ticked up his tempo and I started to feel my orgasm coming on. It was like a mansion in the distance at the top of a hill. I could see it but it was still quite far away.

Bran’s tempo increased again and now it was in tune with the pulsing in my body. Each one of my limbs had a pleasant electricity coursing through it, growing stronger as Bran continued his work. My head, yes, my head, my brain...was empty. I was losing my ability to form thoughts, to fret, to worry. All I could do was hang onto the present moment, drowning in a pool of my own lust. Bran seemed to have a talent for increasing the sexual pressure without letting it blow sky-high. He would take me closer to my climax and then back off, paying more attention again to my now-abused thighs. Then he would come back to the center and raise the temperature again.

My head kept cracking against the table because I would raise my head without knowing it and then flip it back again to try to release some of my tension. It didn’t work, of course, and then feelings just kept mounting. Bran was going at me full-bore now, no mercy, no fear, no breaks, no backing off. Bran was taking me to the promised land.

He tortured my clit, pulling on it and slapping it with his lips and tongue. As the energy rose in me, Bran kept looking up at me. If this had ever occurred with another man, I would expect him to check my facial expression to see if I was having fun. I don’t think that was what Bran was doing. He looked ‘above’ me. He was looking at my aura, maybe to see if it would change colors. He seemed to be enjoying himself very much, although I didn’t think it would compare to what I was feeling. I felt pressure, like I was being injected with a fluid until my skin burst in every direction.

Bran looked up at me once more and then buried his head in my womanliness. This time was different. My body felt like it couldn’t take much more of this tension but then it ramped up again.

Finally, it came. Like an Oklahoma tornado, I watched it come towards me and whip me up into its center. I was flying around hundreds of feet in the air, touching nothing, pulse-pounding, pussy pounding, sexual energy flying off in every direction. I closed my eyes and let myself sink into my own existence. The relief was immediate and extreme. I could feel the sweat on my chest; the towel under me was soaked. I opened my eyes. Bran wasn’t looking at me at all. He was looking above me. The dressing room mirror was in my sight so I looked over, finally able to exist in the world again. What I saw shocked me.

There was a visible, beautiful white light that surrounded my head and swept across the room. My body was made of light with a rainbow of colors sprayed around me like a prism. My body, wracked by cancer and chemicals, looked as beautiful as anything I’d ever seen. Even lying there on an ugly plastic table, I could see the majesty of my body and, I guess, my soul. I looked around my head and could see the streaming light everywhere in the room. It wasn’t just a trick of the mirror. I thought I must have been seeing what Bran saw in me. He saw a white aura that told him I had a good spirit. He wanted to be with a person who had a good spirit. That was me.

Bran looked at the expression on my face and laughed.

“You can see it now, can’t you?”

“I can see everything, Bran.”

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

“I’m beautiful, Bran. I’m really, really beautiful.” I could feel the tears roll down my face. I often cried after a self-induced orgasm, the only kind I had ever had until now, but this was a different kind of crying. I have five or six types of crying.

“Yes, Helen. You’re beautiful inside and out. You can see it now.”

He got off his knees which each had angry red spots. He had been there for what seemed like hours.

“You...you did this for me.” I looked at him.

“I didn’t do anything, Helen. You’re seeing what was already there.”

“It’s so beautiful.” I started to cry again, Bran held me close to his bare chest. I didn’t even have the energy to be turned on anymore.

“Can we take a selfie?” He grinned.

“Sure. Can the camera see all this stuff?”

“No, it can’t. First, I’m thinking one for your friends.”

“Oh sure, yeah, let’s take one together.”

We scootched together on the table and I took a photo of our faces from the chin up, since I was still naked. No aura in the photo.

“I have a different camera that can see auras. Can we do that one too?”

I was confused. “A camera that sees auras?”

“Sure, it’s called an AuraCam. It’s over here.”

“Is this what you do with all the girls?” I asked Bran playfully.

“Yeah, actually. But no one has ever done this before.”

“Done what?”

“Your aura expanded to fill up this whole room when you orgasmed. I’ve never seen that before in my fucking life.”

“Oh, that,” was all I could manage.

He put together some pieces of this big camera, which looked nothing like a camera. Then we sat in front of it and he pushed a button. The photo that the camera produced on the screen was similar to what I had seen in the mirror. White light streamed in every direction coming from me. Bran was glowing too, but his aura was more pink. He said that means a ‘loving aura.’ That seemed right for Bran.

He kissed me with his very wet mouth and held my hand as we walked back to the green room. When my friends saw me, their faces shone.

“You look amazing, girl!” Elaine bounded up to me and hugged me.

“That took forever. You must have done more than pussy eating,” Ginny said to me.

“Nope, just that.” I smiled.

“Holy shit. That must have been epic cunnilingus,” Ginny said, expressionless.

“You have no idea.”

We all walked back to the floor of the stadium together, hand in hand. My friends asked for all the details and I told them everything, even the aura stuff, since Tyra kept asking.

“So you did selfies after all that? Seems weird.”

“No, it wasn’t weird at all. It was so nice. I felt like he wanted the regular selfie for me, for us, and the aura selfie because he was proud to have been with me. He was proud to be with me. Isn’t that funny?”

“How do you feel now?” Elaine looked at my buoyant complexion.

“I feel amazing! Like a butterfly on X,” I felt my chest and stomach to make sure I was telling the truth.

“Wow! That’s a hell of a pussy eater, that Bran!” Tyra exclaimed. “Are you going to see him again?”

“I don’t think that was on the table. I think this was a one-time thing.” I really didn’t mind. I had a great affection for this man, but I still didn’t know the first thing about him as a person.

“Cool. As long as you’re cool with it. You just had a one-night stand with Bran Tarantula, babe!”

“I did. And the blogs are correct.” I laughed.