Page 54 of The Idiot

Planting his hand on the wall, he makes to get up. He’s embarrassed. Holy shit. He was serious. The evident fragility of the situation has me closing the distance. If he’s having curious thoughts, I sure as shit don’t want to humiliate him. I am, however, hyper-aware of my attraction at the moment.

I blame self-preservation for my casual tone. “You’re doing it wrong,” I inform him, stopping in the narrow doorway.

“What?” He blinks up at me, leaning back on his haunches.

It’s a lie. There is no wrong way to lick a dick. I’d take any kind of lick he’d give me, but I need to keep speaking so this discussion doesn’t expire.

Folding my arms, I lean against the frame of the shower door, hoping he doesn’t notice the way I’m trembling. “Use your lips while you lick, like you’re sucking on an ice cream cone.”

I’m blushing right along with him, but he eyes the dildo curiously. Chewing on his lower lip, a beat passes, but then he rises to his knees again.

Fucking hell. He’s going to do it. I’ll never get through this.

His mouth forms a smallOlike he’s preparing to blow bubbles. He brings it to the tip, his puckered lips pressing against it. Frowning, he draws back.

“It won’t fit,” he huffs. “This dick is too big.”

The one in my boxer briefs certainly is right now. His frustration over the lack of results is not the encouragement Ineed, and yet, I silently wish I’d shown him porn years ago if I’d known it would have this effect on him.

“I said an ice cream cone, not aTootsie Pop.”

Shifting his gaze up to me, it’s a surreal sight to see him seeking my guidance about oral. He’s got that precious, vulnerable look in his eyes that always kills me.

Was it my porn last night or has he always been curious? How could he think that I’d laugh at him?

Clearing my throat, I soften my voice. “Relax your jaw and open your mouth wide. I’ve seen you shove sub sandwiches in it that are twice the size of this.”

He processes that for a moment, staring at my dildo like it’s an opponent, but then he wets his lips. Jaw dropping, his gaze flicks to mine and then back to the task at hand.

My lungs are on fire. It feels like an eternity watching him close the distance, but then the cockhead disappears inside his mouth.

Fuck. Me. Jesse Carver has a dick in his mouth.

He draws off, lapping at the underside awkwardly with his tongue. He does it again and again. Each time, he looks over at me like it’s a coin ride, and I’m supposed to let him know when his time’s up.

“Good,” I praise him softly, hoping it doesn’t sound as throaty as it did to my ears.

The corner of his mouth ticks up. I cannot handle the knowledge that my praise is well-received. It’s like giving me a box of matches at a gas spill.

Gripping the base hesitantly, he studies it for a moment, chewing his lip. “How do you… keep your teeth from…”

“Curl them over your lips.”

“Oh.” He nods, giving the dick a lazy stroke. “Man, it really feels real.” He laughs nervously.

“That’s… kind of the point.”

“Right. So, um, the deep throat thing we saw last night… is that what gay guys like?”

Shit. Me and my stupid mouth.

“Guys are guys, Jesse. It doesn’t matter what their orientation is. Personally, I think it’s about quality, not quantity. The guy will let you know what he likes.”

“How? Do you tell each other beforehand or something?” Pulling a face, he adds, “That seems a little business-like.”

I can’t take it. I want to drop to my knees and kiss his wet lips over whatever discovery he’s having. I want to tell him he doesn’t need to do this, that I’d give up oral just to have him in my arms.

Crowding into the stall, I shake my head.

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