“Okay,” I say to myself, blowing out a whistling breath through my pursed lips. “I’ve got this.”
Twiddling my fingers like a concert pianist, I place them on the keyboard and stare at the empty screen. The cursor blinks mockingly at me, as if to say,loser… loser… loser.
I fucking hate that cursor. She’s a shady bitch.
For Pete’s sake, Juli. Just type some words. Any words. You can go back and refine them later.Gnawing on my bottom lip, I begin to work on the spicy scene that’s had me stumped for a week.
His cock is thick and big, and I look down at it. I love his penis so much.
I pause and stare at the words on my screen. “Fuck, that’s horrible,” I say aloud, deleting the stupidest sentence I’d ever written. “Penis… penis… what can I say about this character’s penis?”
Hell, it’s been so long since I’ve seen one in person, I’m not even sure if I could accurately describe a dick if one smacked me in the face.
Pulling up a folder labeledInspirational Cockson my computer, I’m suddenly concerned that when I die, my father will find a folder full of penis pictures. Then he’ll keel over from cardiac arrest.Sorry, Dad.
I slide my phone toward me and tap out a text to my author friend, AK Landow.
Juliette: Hey, if I die, I’m designating you to erase all the sketchy shit from my computer.
I receive an immediate response.
AK: Gotcha, babe. Any particular documents?
Juliette: The folder titled Inspirational Cocks.
AK: Will do.
AK: Also, forward me the entire cock folder. Please and thank you.
I click over to my email tab and attach the folder before hitting send. Then I flip through a couple photos and make some notes of things I could describe about the male member.
Length, girth, color, veins. Okay, this is good. The veins are always a nice touch. Every woman loves a nice, veiny cock with all that yummy friction, right? I click through the next few pics and let out a shriek when I get to photo number seven.
“Holy hell, what is that?” I rear my neck back to put some distance between me and the monstrosity on the screen. This particular peen bends to the left at a sharp angle. And the hair. Dear god, the hair. I tilt my head to try and get some perspective.
“Oh, honey, who broke your dick?” I ask the owner of the virtual penis on my screen. “Bless your heart.”
My phone pings, distracting me from the mutant wiener.
AK: What the actual fuck is number seven?
Juliette: I was just trying to figure that out. It’s quite unfortunate looking.
AK: Maybe this is from the seventies before manscaping was a thing.
Juliette: Probably. Why does it flop to the left like that?
AK: No clue. My husband always tells me I’m going to break his cock, but I think whoever was with this poor fucker actually accomplished it. I feel inadequate.
Juliette: LOL. Keep trying. *Sends GIF of Rob Scheider saying “You can do it!”
AK: Doing Kegels now. Rob better prepare himself tonight.
Juliette: Just thought of something else on my computer that definitely needs to be erased so my family doesn’t find it. It’s a spreadsheet called Sex Toys.
Juliette: Oh, and the entire BDSM folder.
AK: Why don’t I just delete your entire hard drive?
