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“I don’t want to suck that one either,” I lie and then glance away, feeling my cheeks heating. I want this conversation to stop, to just die, but then Ollie pipes up.
“But you were staring at this guy’s dick the other day, right? This was the one, right?”
I give him a pointed glare.
“No, that was someone different.”
Ollie smirks. “No, I have the memory of a gnat. I remember everything.”
“Gnats don’t have good memories. So really, what you’re saying is you have the memory of pea,” the twink interjects, which is completely off-topic and kind of rude. I don’t like twink-man. He’s giving me weird vibes. Weird, angry fairy vibes. And no one is mean to Ollie. He’s a special kind of special.
“That’s not the point,” I say, waving my hand in front of me. “I’m not sucking either of your dicks. I’m going to go get a drink. I’m very thirsty.”
I take a step away and move farther into the crowd. I don’t need this shit. And yes, I lied. I mean, I do want to suck Alec’s dick, in a big way, but I’m not going to admit it. Looking like a desperate loser is not my cup of tea. Not in this moment, at least, and not when twink-man is looking a little too smug. Maybe Alec will get his big donkey dong sucked by him later. And that is fine. I don’t own it. I don’t.
And I most definitely don’t want to.
Yeah, Alec’s dick…it’s not mine. I have no claim over it. I never will. And usually I don’t care, so I don’t know why over the next week, I obsess about it. It’s so bad that I end up dreaming about the damn thing. In vivid detail. Even though I’ve never actually seen it. But I can imagine what it looks like. Big and thick with a vein running up the underside, and an angry dark-purple head. It’s such a vivid picture in my mind, I doodle a picture of it on the sandwich paper at work. Sadly, I hand that poor sandwich to an unsuspecting woman who will unwrap it and see a giant dick greeting her.
A dick sandwich.
I mean, I wouldn’t be opposed to that.
But not an Alec-dick sandwich.
No. I amnotsucking his dick. I may be a little obsessed, but that’s all the more reasonnotto do it. It will only feed the hungry animal inside of me. It’s feeling a bit feral, wild. I don’t want that. I need chi, tranquility, peace. I won’t find that with Alec’s dick. I promise you that. No, that dick would send me into quite the upheaval.
“Are you going to help me with my sandwich?” a man asks me as he stands in line at the small sandwich shop I work at in town. It’s a rickety little place with the best sandwiches in all of Iowa, so we usually have a line out the door in the warmer months.
Which is very inconvenient at the moment. I have a dick to think about. Glancing down, I see that the marker I have in my hand has drawn the tip of a dick on my palm, so I clench it shut.
“Yes, what can I get you?” I feign a smile, and he glowers back at me. I hope he sees the dickhead I doodled. I hope he chokes on it.
Ah, choking on dick. The best feeling. The way it slides down the throat, the way my muscles flex around it.
Fuck. My cock hardens in my pants, and I will it to go down. There’s no way I am going to chub up in my place of work. I refuse. I’m not going to have a cucumber in my pants. I don’t even like that vegetable. Fruit? I don’t fucking know.
It’s some kind of food that you eat.
Like dick. I eat dick.
I want to eat dick, but I haven’t. I’m all out of whack. I’m a mess. I never did find someone at that club. I just sulked in the corner and stared at Alec across the room, his tongue sliding into that twink’s mouth, their hips grinding together. It didn’t bother me at all.
I was perfectly fine with it. I didn’t mind twink-man hanging all over him.
Not one bit.
I don’t know how I’m going to make it through this workday when all I can envision is cucumbers sliding down my throat, big thick ones. On my break, I sneak one out, going into the bathroom and sliding it into my mouth. My eyes close and I envision myself on my knees, choking on something warm and hard, but it’s not right. It’s too cool, too green.
I don’t want to suck an alien dick.
But to be honest, if they invaded Earth, I’d probably shoot my shot. I’d take anything at this point.
I can’t stand this.
When I get home after my shift, I lay on the couch, a bag of peas on my face and one down my pants to cool me off, when a knock on the door startles me. I sit up and wince at the feeling of my frozen dick.
“Fuck,” I mutter, pulling the peas out of my pants. I stumble toward the door and wrench it open, nearly fainting when I see who it is on the other side.
