You should maybe see someone about that. I mean, there’s big, and then there’s TOO big
Is that why your marriage broke down? Your wife got tired of riding your massive cock? Poor woman must have a hole the size of the Grand Canyon by now
Fucking little shit. My dick is slightly above average, nothing to write to Guinness World Records about. Definitely not too big to shove down Jazz’s throat and make him shut up for once.
My whole body stiffens as I register the thought that just went through my head. What. The. Actual. Fuck? Since when do I think about putting my cock anywhere near another guy’s mouth? And Jazz of all people? He’d probably bite the head off and just keep smirking.
Me
My dick is not too big. I can only imagine your dick must be pretty small if you’re convinced mine is so enormous
Jazz Grimsay
Ah, so you’re imagining my dick now?
Fucking hell. I just fell into another trap, didn’t I?
Me
That’s not what I meant asshole
Jazz Grimsay
You are though, aren’t you dirty boy? You’re sitting there hard as fuck and wondering how big my cock is. Do you want to know whether I’m cut or uncut as well? What about girth?
Jesus Christ. Why the hell does he have this power over me? I don’t care what his cock looks like. That’s not something I ever need or want to know about. And yet for some insane reason, I still can’t seem to stop my brain from speculating.
I need to just ignore his texts and focus on something else. If I relax and just chill for a bit the boner will go down and these ridiculous thoughts will stop.
I’m sure as fuck not sexting with Jazz Grimsay. The incident in the bathroom today was bad enough; I’m not going to give him any more ammunition.
And the fact that my idiotic cock seems to like it when he fires at me is irrelevant. I’m a strong-willed guy; I’m not going to let my dick make decisions for me.
14
When Gia cameinto my office last night to tell me she’d sent Damon home and that she was really concerned he had some kind of bladder problem based off his long stint in the bathroom and the wet marks on his jeans, I had to bite my cheek to hold back my grin.
“What if it’s prostate cancer?” she asked, eyes wide with fear. “That causes problems with all that, doesn’t it? And he’s kind of that age—I mean, he’s hot and all, but he’s not that much younger than my dad.”
Or mine, I thought. But age has never been much of a factor for me. And, honestly, the fact that Damon’s twice my age and yet so ridiculously naive and inexperienced—when it comes to all the good stuff, at least—makes him even more appealing to me. And he was already pretty damn appealing, in case you couldn’t tell. But he’s got all these years on me, and yet he’s still a blushing virgin in all the ways that matter. And all I want to do now is mess him up and strip him down and turn him on inways that scare the shit out of him and do things to him that he doesn’t even know the name for.
There was no doubt in my mind the reason Damon had wet marks on his jeans was because he’d managed to get them a little…messy. I’d have loved to tell Gia that and ease her mind—or freak her out even more—but as much as I want to stoke Damon’s humiliation kink, that’s not the way I want to do it. This game is just between the two of us. No one else needs to be involved.
So instead I just brushed Gia off with some reassurances that Damon looked completely healthy to me, and whatever was going on was his own business.
And then I had to listen patiently while she once again reprimanded me about my song selections.
“He doesn’t like it.”
I shrugged. “And if he wants me to stop, I will.”
Although now I have confirmation that it turns him on, I’m really not sure I could stick to that promise. I don’t think it’ll come to that, though. He might grumble and complain, he might call me names, he might try to ignore me. But he won’t ask me to stop.
“You’re such an asshole,” Gia said as she left the office, but it was more of an endearment than an insult.
As soon as she was gone, I couldn’t resist texting Damon. It wasn’t the same as throwing barbs at him in person and seeing his live reaction, but I could imagine it. I knew he was just as aroused as I was, and I also knew he was fighting it with every ounce of willpower he has.
I figured I’d already pushed him pretty hard for one day so I decided to back off before I could find out if he gave in and rubbed it out—my guess is he went for a cold shower instead—but tonight I’m not going to be so generous…
