Page 67 of The Idiot

“Not like this, you can’t,” he argues.

“Likethis? What’s that supposed to mean?”

He looks at my groin again, warily, and then his lips go flat. “It’s obscene.”

Obscene? Rude! My dick is not obscene. It’s… normal.

“This isn’t any different than yours has looked all day!”

Eyes crinkling at the corners, his head rears back. “You’ve been looking at my dick?”

“Well, yeah. It’s been bouncing around like its mission in life is to be noticed.”

“You’re being ridiculous because you’re pouting.”

I’mridiculous? Earth to Denial, population one!

I’m not going to let this slide. Dropping to my knees brings me eye level withsaiddick.

“Ha! Look at it! I was right. I can practically see your top dick vein through these shorts.”

I trace my finger down it just to prove my point. Shit. It’s kind of hard and feels like I’m practically touching it for real, sending a little shiver down my spine.

Why is this so fascinating? I don’t even realize I’ve continued my demonstration by circling my fingertip over the ridge of his cockhead until I hear him let out a painful sound and grip my shoulder. His other fist is in a ball at his side, like he’s trying to restrain himself. It’s now that I notice how rigid he is, just like he was in the shower the other morning.

The shower… I probably shouldn’t be thinking about the shower right now.

“Are you about done?” he grits.

Wetting my lips, I’m enamored by the heat radiating off his groin and the way his scent is overtaking the enclosed space. “No.”

I press my nose forward, feeling his hardness push against my cheek the way it did that morning. I’m drooling; droolingfor the sensation of my mouth being filled again. I like the way it tingled when that log of silicone was raking against my tongue and my cheeks. It wasn’t warm though, the way Murph is warm. It wasn’t as silky as the way his felt against my cock this morning. I bet this is better.

“You’re hard,” I murmur into the fabric of his fly, but it’s just an excuse to brush my lips against his length.

“You have… your face… in my crotch,” he practically chokes out.

“Because it’sobscenelyunavoidable,” I counter, allowing myself a sniff.

I can’t believe I’m sniffing his crotch. Maybe Iamobscene.

Exhaling, his hand flexes on my shoulder. His fingers knead the muscle there hungrily. “Are you just going to slobber all over it? You’re getting my shorts wet.”

Slobber. I distinctly remember he said that slobber was sexy, how seeing a guy drool for your cock was a turn on. I can’t deny it—I am drooling for it. With shaky fingers, I undo his button, gaging his expression to see if his complaint really was a complaint.

He stands perfectly still. When I lower his zipper, his throat undulates like his mouth has gone dry. Murph wants some slobber. Should I be this excited that I can oblige? I do love to prove him wrong. That’s got to be part of the reason.

Reaching into the flap of his boxer briefs, I wrestle his warm cock into my hand and free it. It’s pointing right at me, just like his dildo was. If I thought that looked real, his has it beat. There’s a glossy sheen on the tip, like he’s leaking already. I can’t get over how cool it is that it’s because of me.

A thought occurs to me. If people suck cocks, they taste that. Right? It’s inevitable. My brain and my salivary glandsmake some kind of connection at the sight of his precum. Maybe something primitive knows that’s what I’m drooling over, that taste, whatever it will be.

“Hi,” I whisper. “I’m Jesse.”

Murph lets out a disbelieving sputter, making my face warm over mydicktroduction. I will not feel silly about having manners. Technically, his dick and I have already been introduced, so this is just a formality. I can’t help but feel that it’s calling to me with that ooze of precum like it’s a welcome gift, though. Apparently, it likes my manners.

Sticking out my tongue, I lap it over his tip. A burst of saltiness and something earthy, like a potent flavor of Murph’s scent, makes my taste buds tingle. Murph lets out a little gasp. His hand goes to the back of my head, his fingers stroking anxiously.

I’ve been here before. I remember that touch. I know what to do, and while it still feels a little surreal, I can’t wait another second to have him in my mouth.

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