Chapter Eighteen #2
Aaron rolled his eyes. “You’ve seen me in a jock. You’ve memorized the visible penis line and every pore on my butt so you can recall the images for future jackoff fantasies. I think we’re past that.”
“Shut up!” I laughed. “You’re such a jerk.”
He shrugged. “Yeah, right. You were so awestruck that you fainted outside the booth.”
I crossed my arms. “I didn’t faint! I fell from backing away so fast. I didn’t want to have nightmares tonight.”
“Oh, you’ll be dreaming all right,” he teased. “I’m feeling violated. I should report you at work.”
“Dope,” I muttered.
After a couple of moments of silence, Aaron turned back on his side to face me. “You know, it’s okay if you think I’m attractive. I’ve told you that you are.”
“I… Thank you. Yes, you are good looking, Aaron. Very. Remember, I told you that once before? I just don’t bring it up because I don’t want you to think I’m creeping on you. Busting in on you this afternoon really was an accident.”
He nodded. “I know that.”
“And you don’t need my affirmation about your looks,” I added. “You know what you’ve got. People mention it all the time. You’re the only one who ever tells me that I’m cute, though.”
He shook his head. “That’s not true. Cliff did. People at work have said it, too. You just don’t listen. It’s like your hearing is on some frequency that only receives negative comments. Didn’t Moldy ever tell you that you’re handsome?”
“Melody,” I corrected for the millionth time. “Yeah…she did.”
“See?”
“Maybe I never got over being ugly when I was younger.” I ran a hand over my face.
“God, when I look at pictures from then, I wonder how my parents didn’t drive me to the dump and leave me.
My hair was long, straggly and shapeless.
Plus, I was too skinny. And I hadn’t grown into these ears.
Then there was a mole I had near my nose that I finally convinced my mother to cough up the cash to pay a plastic surgeon to remove.
I don’t know what was worse—that or the chronic acne I had on my chin. I was a mess.”
“Sounds it,” he agreed in a frightened tone.
“Bastard,” I muttered.
He snickered. “What should I have said? Gee, that description would garner millions of views on a dating app?”
I laughed in return. “Okay, fair enough. I was…grotesque.”
“I’m sure you weren’t as bad as that,” he disagreed. “Ugly, sure. But grotesque is on another level that’s reserved for freaks that serve monsters.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“You know, like Edgar… Young Frankenstein’s servant,” he explained.
“Do you mean Igor??”
“Whatever,” he answered. “The point is, you blossomed and that hideous past and all its associated trauma is behind you.”
“Except my dick didn’t blossom. It’s still a sprout, apparently.” I snorted at my own joke.
He rolled his eyes. “Oh, for fuck’s sake. Are you back to that? What have the guys you’ve slept with said about it?”
I tried to recall. “Nothing. That’s not a good sign, is it? I mean, if they had thought it was an awesome cock, they would have said so, wouldn’t they? Then again, I always had sex in the dark. I never saw theirs, either.”
“You’re just sad, you know that?” he harassed.
“But they still had my dick in their hands and in their mouths,” I continued. “It wasn’t like that inspired any compliments about my size.”
“Did you ever comment on theirs?” he challenged.
I tried to recall. “I think I remember choking once and telling the guy he was too big. But he really wasn’t. He was just aggressive, wanting to fuck my throat instead of letting me control the pace. I should have told him he was an asshole and kicked him out instead.”
Aaron’s eyes widened. “There’s too much to unpack there.”
“As I said, there wasn’t,” I jested. “He was just a selfish jerk. But I’ll bet Cliff is huge. He just strikes you as a man with a big, thick cock.”
Aaron scowled. “Dude. I don’t want to talk about Cliff’s junk.”
“Yet we’re talking about mine,” I pointed out.
He shrugged. “That’s different.”
“How?”
Aaron searched for the words to explain but failed. “I don’t know. It just is.”
I shook my head. “Anyway, if Cliff is well-endowed, then it might mean even more that he’d be sorry if he chooses me.”
“Like I said earlier, if that’s the case, he’s a douche,” Aaron replied.
“Wouldn’t you be disappointed if the girl you took home had led you to believe she had big breasts by wearing a padded bra?” I challenged.
He grinned. “No, because I don’t prefer big tits. I like chicks with smaller breasts.”
“Oh.” I had just assumed all straight men liked them huge.
“My favorite figure on a woman is athletic with a smaller bust,” he explained. “Like gymnasts and swimmers.”
“Fine. Then let’s go the other way. If there was a girl who you thought was super nice, fun, smart and pretty, but she had big gazongas, would you still date her?”
“How big?” he asked.
“Huge. Like…two inflated balloons,” I answered. “Watermelons. Beach balls. Dolly Parton’s bra would be too small to fit.”
Aaron quirked his head. “If I liked everything else about her, I’d still ask her out.
Just like you’ll be okay with the hair jungle on Cliff’s butt, even when you need to blow dry and detangle it for him.
” I laughed, even though that image was rather gross.
“So, you’ve only had sex in the dark, huh?
I assume that was your choice and not the other guys’ wishes. ”
I hadn’t had sex that many times, but since the occurrences had always been during the evening, it had been easy enough to manipulate the situation.
“Yeah, I guess.”
“Dude, you must have seen other guys’ dicks before. Can’t you tell how yours measures up?” he wondered.
“Where would I have seen other men’s dicks?
” I couldn’t think of any I had seen other than on a computer screen.
“You mean porn stars? OnlyFans guys? I always assumed they were successful because they’re bigger than average.
If that isn’t the case, then I already know how I stack up, and it isn’t well. ”
Aaron ran a hand through his hair. “No, don’t compare yourself to them. Haven’t you ever measured it?”
“No,” I replied.
“No? What teenage boy hasn’t measured their cock?” he asked, astounded.
“This one,” I answered. “Honestly, I don’t think I wanted confirmation of my fears.”
He frowned. “Yeah. Much better to carry around this insecurity.”
“Uncertainty,” I corrected. “That’s better than knowing. It isn’t like there’d be anything I can do about it anyway.”
“Sure, there is,” he countered. “You could be more deliberate in seeking guys who are into…smaller dudes…or that don’t care.”
“Should I go up to them in a club and ask if they’re into little penises?” I rolled my eyes.
He scowled. “I meant you should find out whether someone is shallow or not—whether they like you for you. Maybe some guy will be into someone who’s more…petite.”
I grimaced. “God, that sounds worse.”
“I didn’t say you were,” he protested. “Christ, should I just look at it? I’ve seen my fair share of cocks in college and at the gym. Should we at least establish whether you’re obsessed over nothing? No pun intended.”
I might have gasped. The idea of just whipping out my dick for his examination might have been my worst—yet best—fantasy. While I would like his opinion, I feared it, too.
“Uh… That’s…”
He appeared nonchalant. “It’s up to you.
You’ve seen my ass and we’re not hiding from each other in embarrassment.
Look at the bright side, if I see you naked, then you’ll never need to worry about what you’re wearing or not in the apartment.
Don’t think I haven’t noticed how you come out of the bathroom after a shower fully dressed.
And that sucks, because it makes me feel like I need to be all covered up when I come out of there, too, so as not to offend your Victorian sense of modesty.
I could do without being all sweated up from getting dressed in bathroom steam before I even make it back to my bedroom.
” He rolled his eyes. “Considering how close we are, should we need to live like that? I think that’s stranger than me seeing your cock. ”
“But…”
He pursed his lips, waiting for a reply that was just another excuse for my self-doubt.