Page 52 of The Idiot

All I got in my welcome tote were a few coupons, a visor, and one of those buttons like Philip wears. The only other explanation would be if Murph brought his own dick.

Ha! BYOD.

Snickering, I catch myself and lock it up. The last thing he needs is to hear me in here laughing about his sex toy.

Tiptoeing forward, I notice its position is about waist level. It’s the perfect spot if someone was on their knees, giving head.

No way. Was he practicing his bj skills?

A few weeks ago, it might have seemed strange to think of my friend doing that, but now, each new facet I learn about how he views attraction leaves me curious. It’s like learning a new language. I’m not entirely sure, though, what the heat in my groin is supposed to mean as his wall ornament and I have a staring contest.

I’m thirty years old. I’ve never before associated a dick, other than my own, with pleasure. After seeing that guy worship the other guy’s cock in the film last night and hearing the way Murph grunted like a boar in heat as he watched them, however, I have the overwhelming urge to find out what being on the other end of a dick feels like. Because the guy that was giving sure as hell sounded happy about giving. Should I be salty that no one’s ever sounded that elated while they went down on me?

Peering through the crack in the bathroom door, I can see Murph’s feet still swaddled underneath the sheets. I can hear his soft stream of breath.

Grumpy Baloney Bear still sleeps. I have time. Time for a littledicksploration.

I’m here. The dick is here. It’s fortuitous, really. No prying eyes while I see if this is just a fluke.

Easing down on one knee in the confined stall brings me nearly eye level to the cockhead. I’m not sure why my heartbeat is fluttering. It’s not like the dick knows what I’m up to. It’s silicone, for crying out loud, not a real one.

Shit. It looks kind of real, though. It’s got veins and everything.

“Hi,” I mumble, feeling obliged to give an icebreaker. “I’m Jesse.”

There. We’ve been introduced. I feel better now.

“I, uh, I’m not going to hurt you,” I assure it, taking in the curve of the glans with fascination.

I’ve never seen mine from this angle. It feels like I’ve discovered a new life form.

Reaching out, I graze the underside with my fingertip, tracing the fake vein all the way to the tip. A little tremor ripples through my body, and I let out the breath I was holding as it bobs.

Dang. Totally looks real now.

Taking stock of my reaction, I realize my throat has gone dry. My balls are heavy. Images of that film last night flicker through my thoughts—the way the one guy was munching on the other guy’s hole like it was a meal. It’s… still turning me on.

Does getting your butthole licked feel good? It’s nothing I’ve ever imagined, which makes me wonder if I’m old-fashioned. In my defense, it’s not like you learn shit like that on an orchard.

I still can’t believe Murph has had sex with men, or rather that he knows what to do. How in the heck did he figure it all out? Not that I’d have been able to offer any advice, but I hate that he probably had no one to give him the kind of sex ed talk that he needed.

Well, he had porn, I guess. I, on the other hand, had never seen gay porn until last night.

I feel so behind the curve, a curve I never fathomed could be a curve for me. A dick curve. Who knew?

Maybe I’ll fall off the curve and the next time I watch gay porn, it won’t do anything for me. The longer I stare at the dildo, though, the more I want to know the answer right now.

There’s only one way to find out.

Swallowing, I wet my lips and reach out, trying to be bold and nonchalant like Murph was last night, wrapping my hand around the base. Its spongy, rubbery texture doesn’t feel like my cock, but the form is still accurate. And for whatever reason, just holding it in my hand is doing something for me. My nuts have drawn up, and I’m hard—fully hard.

Wow. Still on the dick curve.

Is it the element of a lifetime thinking cock wasn’t in my wheelhouse? Is it because Murph has paved the way and made me realize it’s a wheel that can be in my house? I don’t know, but my mouth is watering like it’s a slice of Mom’s apple pie. I didn’t know it was possible to be hungry for cock.

“I… I’m just going to give you a little lick,” I whisper.

Extending my tongue, I flatten it across the underside of the tip. It tastes like how a hospital smells. I can’t imagine a real one tastes like this, which has me feeling cheated for some reason.

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