“Clevon and I are now officially broken up. “
The news pleased me but I was unsure how I was supposed to take it

After a brief pause, Marilyn said “I have to tell you though that we slept together that night.”

Why did she have to tell me that? I didn’t need to know it, and I could have done quite well without knowing it. Had I not known I would not have cared, but now all I could do was care. I cared about what he meant to her, about what I meant to her, about whether she was on top or he, about whether she had an orgasm, more than one?, about the size of his penis, about the size of mine, about why she had told me.

She got up from her chair and came to me, bent at her waist and kissed me on the lips. She pulled me to my feet, and led me by the hands into her bedroom, where again she kissed me. We rolled around a bit gyrating and rubbing body parts with a level of arousal that was both refreshing and, sadly, stale, my understanding that the excitement was partly, at least, simply a function of newness.

— Percival Evertt, Erasure