Page 58 of Free to Dream
Phil slams his fist on the table, making the plates jump. “Fuck his friends.”
And that’s all it takes for me to regain myself. “Didn’t I just explain that Ali already has and I’m not into Keene? Keep up, Whirlpool.” Em’s wine ends up in Phil’s face for the second time in one night.
“You did that on purpose,” Phil accuses, letting go of Jason’s hand to wipe his face.
My lips tip up as I shrug. It’s a gift.
“Just for that, I refuse to show you how to grab a cock,” Phil taunts. Jason puts his head in his hands, knowing this is going nowhere good, fast.
Ali snorts. “Please, Phil. She can get that down easy enough. It’s not as if she has to go hunting for it each night like Jason has to for you. It’s sucking cock that might get interesting.” Ignoring Phil’s indignant sputtering, she turns her laser stare on me. “I take it you have no idea yet how big he is so we can recommend items to practice with?”
Practice items? What in the hell?
Ali continues. “Same with nipple play. Cass has quite the rack, and she should practice feeling herself up so she doesn’t jump through the top of that sexy Porsche if they decide to get down and dirty in there.” There’s a round of agreement at that statement. Suddenly, the table is filled with comments like “choking the chicken” and “two-finger tango,” and a very disturbing discussion between Em and Jason about the best places to purchase sex toys.
I didn’t need to know they agreed on that. Ever.
“Enough!” I finally yell to get my siblings attention again. “I’ll figure it out.”
Phil, never one to keep his mouth shut, leans over to say, “Sweetie, if you haven’t done it, it’s all going to be a shock to you. A man like Caleb has probably done it a lot.”
While not wrong, I really didn’t need that mental image. Sending a mental fuck you over to my brother, I also know Caleb would never place any expectations on me. “I appreciate the… insight you all have provided about your sex lives. There are things I will never be able to quite…forget. But seriously, I just wanted to know what sex was like. What does it feel like when it’s good?”
“There’s so much more than that, Cass,” Em says patiently. “That’s what we’re, in a roundabout way, getting to.”
I think quickly. “Okay, how about this. Give me something to do right now. I pass it, we stop this discussion.”
They all burst into laughter.
“I’m serious! Give me something to. How did Corinna put it…deep throat? If I can do that, then let’s assume that I’m not going to be completely inept and needSex for Dummies, the deluxe edition delivered to my Kindle.”
My sisters are leaning on each other in a heap of laughter, while Phil jumps up and runs for the kitchen. “You better not make it anything like a jalapeno or something, asshole,” I call over to him.
“Noted,” he calls over his shoulder, already at the fridge.
“This should be interesting,” Jason muses. Phil comes back with an assortment of food that no one in their right mind would eat together. Mushrooms, Brussels sprouts, pepperoni, summer sausage, leftover bratwurst, cream, and a jar of pickles. Pushing aside his plate, Phil begins to construct varying edible sculptures that when he’s done, all remarkably resemble penises.
It’s almost scary at how adept he is at this.
By the time he’s done, food is everywhere and he moves them to be on display in the center of the dining room table. Holly has her phone out, snapping photos. Thank God. While I may want to block this memory from my mind for the immediate future, you never know when a good holiday present requires these images on a family T-shirt.
“No one expects you to be able to deep throat this one,” Phil says, pointing to the pepperoni with the mushroom cap and Brussels sprout ball sac. “This is merely a display of what he could be packing in length, but it’s highly unlikely. Most men lie about being this long.” Dismissively, Phil moves to the summer sausage. “Now some men may have this kind of girth, but again, it’s a rarity, so while a visual stop in our demonstration, it will not be what we practice on.”
I look at the summer sausage and imagine that fitting down below. I think my vagina closes up tighter than it already is at the thought. The idea that Caleb might be packing something that thick actually worries me a little.
“Now, let’s talk about what I suspect Mr. Lockwood might be packing in his pants.” Jason, now not dissuading Phil, but fully participating, is staring at option three with interest.
Phil continues. “The brat is not only best for this because it has a soft but supple over skin, but it also curves. Something, Cass, most men will not admit their cocks do. The length is a little long because most people can’t deep throat that amount, but then again, some can.” Jason can’t keep the smirk off his face.
Yeah, screw blacking out memories in my immediate future. Where’s the zapper thingie to erase this entire evening?
Phil turns his Machiavellian gaze on me. “If you, sister dear, can remotely deep throat the brat, we”—he gestures broadly around the table—“will leave the functional topic of sex alone for the evening.” Just as I’m about to agree to the challenge, Phil walks over to the bar and pulls out a shot glass. Filling it halfway with a concoction of cream and pickle juice, he then says, “And once you’re done playing with your toy, you have to do a shot of this.” He nods down at the glass.
I look at my sisters and they’re all solemnly nodding. “Did he make you do this bullshit?” I demand.
Em raises her hand. “Melted vanilla ice cream with pickle juice.”
Ali nods. “McDonalds vanilla milkshake while munching on the pickles. Which was really gross because they still had mustard and ketchup on them.” She glares at Phil. He smiles back beatifically and gestures to Holly.
