Both men drop trou only to reveal little red Speedos.
My head draws back asgoddammitdraws out inside my mind.
I look away, half-annoyed because I got what I deserved. I’m objectifying two hot, sculpted men.
Who do I think I am? A man?
No, I’m a starving woman who’s desperate for sausage, that’s who. I’m horny with a capitalH. Ever since the separation, it’s felt like seeing color for the first time.
I’m shaking my head as I glance back, narrowing my eyes at the cock teases.
Blondie, who I’m going to name Rocky Balboner because he has amazing arms and a well-filled-out Speedo, splashes water at his friend.
He’s smiling, his perfectly white teeth on display. It makes me smile too. I’m definitely not smiling because his whole body is now facing me, and all I’m actually thinking isoff with the smugglers.
I’m a girl with a bone or the very real need for one. Jesus, I need to walk away.
And that’s exactly what I begin to do when I gasp.
Because Balboner has his hands on the sides of his Speedo.
“No way…”
I’m back at the window. This time, my hand is gripping the fake wood trunk of the olive tree next to me. It makes the leaves rustle like plastic. My teeth carve into my bottom lip as I blink quickly, watching the wet red fabric begin to slowly shimmy down over his hips.
“Go faster.”
This is naughty. I’m naughty. I’m also one inch away from a visual jackpot until his friend, Point Break, who I shall now call Cock Blockhead, stands in the damn way.
“Nooo,” I groan, immediately strangling the tree with my grip.
Now my only view is a very hot back. It’s not bad, just not what I ordered.
Give me porn.
“Move,” I whine. “I want to see a real one.”
Another sad reality of the past me was that all I had was porn or Jeffrey’s micro penis.
And porn dick is unruly. They’re like a cautionary tale.
I’m just a girl looking for moderation.
Regular women can’t be out here doing either breathing exercises and keeping lube on subscription or getting fucked by a belly button.
There has to be a happy middle ground between blowing out your pelvis and holding on to the condom the first time you fuck. I wish that weren’t a true story.
I’m honestly surprised Poppy’s knocked up. I didn’t think semen lived that long, given the distance between his dick and her ovaries.
“Come on” falls from my lips as well as “I’m waiting.”
But I’m too loud, not nearly quiet enough, because my impatience masks the sound of my bedroom door opening. And the deep throat clearing behind me.
All of which I hear on a delay because I’m mid-“Show me the goods” when my eyes almost pop out of my head, and I swing my body around, taking the tree with me, as a very deep voice says, “Whatcha doin’?”
“I’m not a perv!” I scream as the tree slaps me in the face, and I tumble to the floor.
In what can only be described as a Chris Farley through a table kind of fall, I hurl myself, my leg lifting and wrapping around the fake olive tree for some unknown reason as I hit the floor with the loudest thud, looking like a deranged koala.
