Page 43 of Flipping the Script

“And?” I tried to sound bored but failed miserably when the word turned into a gasp. “It’s not like I’m the only one.” Toprove my point, I let go of his dick and yanked his pants and underwear down so they rested around his massive thighs.

He didn’t stop me.

“You don’t want to want this.” I resumed stroking him and cupped his balls with my other hand. “But you do.”

“Fuck,” he half groaned, half grumbled, as he worked my pants and briefs down until they were under my ass. “Of course it had to be you.”

My retort was cut off when he gripped my base with one hand and rubbed the palm of his other over my tip.

“Jesus!” Pain and electric pleasure exploded deep in my body, blending into an intoxicating mix that left me gasping.

His low chuckle didn’t even piss me off this time. Not too much, at least.

“Looks like someone’s a pain slut.”

“You think?” I managed to keep my tone mocking and not sound like I was losing my mind from how good everything felt. “Move your hand a bit lower.”

He shot me a curious look, some of the intensity fading from his expression, and slid his hand to my balls.

“Holy shit. Is that…” He ran his finger over the small ring through my hafada piercing.

The contact sent a little shiver of awareness through me, but I had no idea if that was because of the piercing or because it was Jesse.

Unlike most genital piercings, the hafada, which just meant it was in the center of my sack, right under my shaft, wasn’t considered a functional piercing. It didn’t really enhance sex or masturbation in a meaningful way.

But right then, with Jesse’s finger pressing against it, it felt like there was a direct link between the ring and my ass. I clenched around nothing, barely stifling my whimper of pleasure at the surprise.

What the hell?

I’d had the piercing for years, and he wasn’t the first person to touch it. I’d never had this kind of reaction before. Not even when I played with it while jerking off.

His eyes went molten. “You really are a freak.”

“Takes one to know one,” I said with no real bite. I’d long since accepted that I was different, and being called a freak didn’t even register as an insult anymore. Not even from him.

“Does this feel good?” He resumed jerking me and rolled the ring back and forth.

My strangled cry was answer enough.

He chuckled again, but it was throaty and strained. “Does anyone else know about this?”

I started to shake my head but stopped. My thoughts were a little cloudy at the moment. Did he mean here, or in general? I didn’t publicize it or anything, but anyone who’d seen my dick in the past three years knew it was there.

“Anyone in town?” he clarified, pushing his cock through my fist.

When had I stopped stroking him?

“No.” I dropped my eyes to his cock and how it looked moving through my hand.

He was big, almost as big as me, and so damn hard his skin was flushed red. Precum glistened on his tip and shaft, and the neatly trimmed hair at his base only made him look bigger and harder.

Thank fuck I’d done some manscaping in the shower this morning, so I didn’t look like a 70s porn star in comparison.

“No? What about everyone you’ve hooked up with?”

Between his expert hand on my dick, the way he was casually toying with my piercing, and the hot look he was giving me, my already scrambled brain was having trouble remembering that Iwas supposed to be making his eyes roll back in his head, not the other way around.

“What about them?” I didn’t bother telling him I hadn’t hooked up with anyone in town since before I left. I’d heard the rumors about my sexcapades over the years but never bothered to correct them. People were going to believe what they wanted, and acknowledging the rumors would just give them credibility and make it harder for people to forget about them.

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