Chapter 1
Anson
“I really don’t get it.” Something about the confused voice coming from behind me had me tuning into the slightly too loud conversation. “Why doesanytop need more than about four inches? My prostate isn’t all the way up in my intestines.”
Huh?
“I’m pretty sure this is just ayouthing.” The slightly timid sound to the second voice made me smile. He had no idea what to say to his confused friend but that didn’t stop the other one.
“Sure, I can understand wanting a certain thickness, but there’s just no logic to more than about five inches tops. Is anyone’s prostate that far back?” The weird but interesting question made me pause mid-drink and consider the answer.
But they only got more interesting as he continued working his way through the problem. “There can’t even be any good nerve endings that far up or we’d all get erections when we poop. There’s no way nature would design plumbing like that.”
He was a curious thing.
Getting stood up hadn’t turned out too badly after all.
“Besides, if anyone needs extra inches, it’s the bottom.” The confident tone to the confused guy’s voice said he was sure he was right about that one point at the very least. “He needs to beable to wrap his hand around his cock, and if it’s too short, it’s harder to get a good back and forth rhythm going.”
He’d clearly put a lot of thought into the topic.
It had me mentally putting myself in both positions and trying to decide if he had a point.
“Well…I…” Taking a deep breath, the quieter guy seemed to have decided there was no way out of the conversation. “I think the fact that nearly everyone who’s had that kind of sex disagrees with you might say something about it.”
Hmm.
He had a good point too.
“No. People go with the flow on a lot of things and they probably wouldn’t question it.” I could almost picture the confidently confused one shrugging. “They’re told of course bigger is better for a top and they won’t think about the reality of it.”
Oh.
Another good one.
“I…” Shy guy sighed. “I really hate it when you’re talking about crazy stuff but you actually make sense.”
As I tried not to laugh, the confident guy made a pleased sound. “Thank you for acknowledging my logic.”
Adorable.
“Can we get drinks now or am I just going to sit here being scarred?” The question from the quiet guy had me realizing something that finally shocked me.
They were sober.
I hadn’t noticed it at first because almost every patron in the bar was fucking lit…but they were having that insane conversation while sounding perfectly sober.
“Yes.” Now it was the confident guy’s turn to be dramatic. “I’ll pay but you have to order.”
Why?
“At some point you’re just going to have to stop being embarrassed.” The quiet guy sounded exasperated, but I heard him get up and head over to the bar.
It was busy enough that it made sense, but there was a story behind the decision.
“I’m not embarrassed.” Mumbling to himself, the confident guy huffed. “There’s just no logic to it and no one will explain what qualifies as good manners in here.”
Oh.