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This thing looks like a damn sixteen-ounce Coke can. Simple vaginal stretching just won’t do. I’ll have to fucking dilate to accommodate this monstrosity. And that’s not happening. Sex? Between us? Yeah, that’s not going to happen either.
On a side note, I now understand what heroines mean when they say a penis is beautiful. I never thought a cock could be beautiful. This one actually is. Well, for a cock. I mean, it doesn’t compare to like a sunset or a clear blue sky or the long awaited birth of a famous giraffe’s baby, but to the other penises I’ve seen—in real life and on T.V.—it’s beautiful.
“Hey….” Jake’s soft voice pulls me from my thoughts. Concern is etched on his face. “You okay?”
“Huh? Oh. Yeah. But um, yeah. No. That,” I point to his cock, “that’s not going in this.” My hand sweeps up and down my entire torso. I’d motion all the way to my throat, but I’m being realistic here. No penis is that big.
A slow grin spreads across his face. “That’s more flattering than sir.”
I lean up on my elbows. “Really? I figured you’d be mad.”
“Because you said my dick was big? Baby…please.”
He keeps calling me baby and I’ll let him put that thing in my butt.
“I almost came just hearing it.”
“Want me to say it again then? Is that how you want to get off? Because I was serious when I told you that this isn’t happening.” I do the finger point-torso sweep again.
His head tilts a little and he studies me with a mixture of hope and disbelief. “Are you a virgin?”
“Did you really just ask me that?” I shake my head at him.
“So, no?”
“No, not no. I was shaking my head in disbelief. It wasn’t my answer.”
“So, yes?”
“That is a very personal question, Jake.”
“We crossed the personal boundary when you were pressed up against my windows, screaming my name, coming on my face. I think it’s safe for me to ask if you’re a virgin.”
Fair enough.
“I’m not a virgin. I’ve had sex. Not a lot of it, but enough to know that your cock is way too big for me. I have a narrow channel, Jake.”
He groans as if he’s in pain and strokes himself. “That mouth of yours is killing me, baby.”
Okay. He can have it. If he rips me in two? Totally worth it.
Kidding.
He can’t have it. When a man says, I’m going to ruin you for every other man on the planet, it’s supposed to be in reference to him being great in bed. In this case, Jake would ruin me for an entirely different reason. Hot dog down a hallway kind of reason.
“I’m scared.” My admission comes as a shock to me. Why did I say it? Why did I whisper it in a voice tinged with fear? Why does looking at his handsome face with all its softened features make me feel like I said exactly what needed to be said?
Jake stuffs his rigid cock that is now sheathed in a condom, into his boxers and pulls his pants up over his hips—not bothering to zip them. Probably because he can’t. He stands and holds his hand out to me. “Come on.”
I take his hand and let him pull me from the couch. He grabs a blanket and wraps it around my shoulders before leading me into the kitchen. There, he lifts me to sit on the counter, pours us both a glass of wine, hands me one, clinks my glass and takes a big sip.
I guzzle mine until there’s nothing left.
He pours me another one.
“Better?”
I nod. “Yes. Thank you.”
“It’s not that big, Penelope.”
My eyes roll. I thought we were having a sweet moment. He just wants to get me drunk and fuck me. “Have you done research on this? How many penises have you actually seen, Jake?”
“Probably more than you. And wipe that look off your face. No. I’m not nor have I ever been, gay. But I am a man. Who has pissed in a public urinal. And watched porn. And may or may not have measured my dick along with all of my frat brothers in college.”
“And how did you measure up?”
He takes a sip of wine.
“That’s what I thought.”
The way he looks at me—curious like I’m a mystery, yet captivated by what he’s already unveiled—has me feeling that feeling again. The way he licks the corner of his lip and drops his eyes to my legs has me rethinking this whole, it won’t fit, thing. And when he tucks my hair behind my ear, looks me dead in the eye and whispers, “You truly are a vision, Penelope Hart,” I swear I can feel my vagina widening just for him.
What the fuck am I doing?
Is it really that big?
I don’t even drink sixteen-ounce cans of Coke.
