“It’s normal to play Beethoven’s 5th symphony on your cock.”
“Well, that is a first, technically.”
Mortified, I turn back around.
“It is normal. The way you were bent over at the end… taking my cock.” He gooches my side a bit.
“No amount of dirty sex talk can make this better.”
He wiggles and another small toot escapes. “Fucking Christ. Is my vagina a bagpipe right now, storing up all the air? Am I going to be walking around on the dance floor tooting? Here a toot, there a toot, everywhere a toot toot?”
He grabs my hips and rocks me around from side to side, back and forth. “Look at that. You can call my cock the toot be gone.”
I roll my eyes, still slumped over on his cock, head in my hands.
After a moment, he plants a kiss on my neck and hooks the fallen piece of hair up into the Bobby-pin. Shit! I’m pretty sure that downward doggy fucked up my hair.
“Damn it.”
“What’s wrong, love?” He lifts me from his cock and we both stand.
I keep waiting for another little pussy fart to present itself, but it doesn’t.
“Babe. Seriously. Please stop worrying. If I’m being honest. I kind of liked the way it felt.”
My eyes tilt up to rest on his.
“Seriously, I kind of want you to do it again.”
A smile spreads across my face as my chest swells with love for this man. Here he is trying to make me feel comfortable…
“You’re a kinky fucker, so I can’t tell if you’re being serious or not.”
He laughs, pulling me into his arms. “You’ll never know.” He presses his lips to my forehead. “I love you, Trouble.”
“I love you, too.”
“And I love your pussy farts.”
“Shit!” I swat at his chest and he lets out another infectious laugh and I can’t help but smile.
EVERLEE - THIS IS WHAT BEST FRIENDS ARE FOR
I’msittinginourVIP booth twenty minutes later. That’s how long I take to clean myself up and get myself to leave the privacy of my embarrassment filled room. Emmett, being the amazing guy he is, tries to stay around and offer words of encouragement, but they don’t help. I think if it was just a little one or a little pew pew pew or something, then it would have been fine, but it wasn’t.
It was like a tuba inserted itself into my vagina. It was so long… and flappy sounding.
Total mortification.
Lizzy puts her hand on my arm. “What’s wrong, chickpea?”
I shake my head because I can’t talk about it.
“Do you want to go dance?” she asks with a hopeful tone in her voice.
When I don’t answer, she slides out of the booth on the opposite side. I think she’s gone downstairs wanting to get as far away from this pity party as possible, but a few minutes later she is back with four of Emmett’s red, white, and blue shots. Layered perfection, but not very strong. It’s a layer of grenadine, blue Curaçao and a cream-based vodka he found. Even though he’s no longer bartending after tonight, he’s still on retainer to make the special drinks that everyone has come to expect and love.
“Four?” I laugh.
