My mother believed in giving me choices: she’s done it since I was a little girl. When I was fourteen we came to Rio and she let me decide whether I wanted to go to the beach wearing a pink swimsuit she’d bought me or stay in the hotel. I hated it when we had to go to the beach, because it was nearly impossible to wear anything even remotely comfortable, and I didn’t want to stay in the hotel either, but I hated that pink swimsuit even more. It was one of those ruffled ones your parents would buy you when you’re eight. It made my belly look huge, but it managed to get baggy enough below my waistline so no one would notice me, not even if I wanted. I told her that I’d stay in the hotel and read a book, that I didn’t want it to become Fortaleza all over again. Two years earlier we had gone there and there was this annoying kid who’d keep staring at me on the beach. Maybe I wasn’t used to the sea water there, which is pretty warm, no, I was trying to get one of the boys to notice me, now I remember. He was really handsome, two, maybe three years older than I was, but then it was too late: half of my cock was already out of its sheath, pressing itself against the pink swimsuit. I blushed. “What are you? A boy or a girl?”, the stupid kid asked, and I felt so ashamed I started to cry. My mother noticed it when she saw me running back to the water. She knew what that meant. “Hey, baby girl, don’t pay attention to him, to them, to anyone”, and then I asked her, whispering, “Will it always be like this, each and every time? And if I can’t hide it, what will they think of me?”... She tried to hug me but I didn’t let her, “mom, stay away, please”, and I cried some more, but she insisted, “mom, mom, no! It’s gross!”, and she stood there, the tip of her chin touching the water as she tried her best to be there for me. It took me almost fifteen minutes until I was able to put it back inside the swimsuit. Thank God the water was opaque and green. I could see the sky reflected on its surface. “You know what, Epona? I’m not having much fun here either. We should go back to the hotel and do something else. Are you hungry? What would you rather eat, burgers or pizza?”... I hated those choices, so I said it. Two years later, in Rio, when she told me I could go to the beach with her, wearing that hideous swimsuit, or stay in the hotel, I said “Mom, I hate it when you give me choices. I hate it more than the choices themselves”. She was shocked. “I’ve been trying to say it for a while, but I guess I just want to be by myself for a change”, and she remained silent, reading my every move. Six hours later, when she was back, she smiled at me and asked “Epona, my dear, what do you want?”

That was a hell of a question…

​When I left the cafe I couldn’t think about anything else but Leto and Tallulah. I knew what I wanted, and I wanted it bad. Some time had passed, and I was able to keep myself from remembering their words over the phone, so I managed to take a cab and go home. I texted them three, maybe four times, but I got no answer. When I left the cab I took a look at my window, and it was closed, just as I had left it. Maybe it was the coffee, maybe it was just me, but I felt so anxious I gasped for some air. Then I heard someone laughing, and that familiar laughter came from the garage. “Leto? Is that you?”, but I got no answer. I kept moving and soon I found them, half naked, next to the building’s storage room. Leto was standing while Tallulah was on her knees. “Well, well, look who’s here, Tallulah…”, and then the girl stopped sucking her for a moment and stared at me, my cock rubbing against my legs as it grew bigger and harder. I wasn’t restraining myself anymore. “Epona, dear,...”, she said, slowly, her mouth and cheeks covered with Leto’s sweet cum, “...are you gonna fuck us or what?”