CHAPTER 15
Jesse
Shit. I’m dick-stabbing him again.
How can I have morning wood after I nearly busted a nut last night? Like, I legit thought my nuts were going to bust.
Shifting, I stifle a groggy groan as more lucidness hits me. Now that my body knows I’m awake, I have to pee.
Damn it. I don’t want to get up. He’s so warm and smells like home.
The soft glow of morning light seeping in through the balcony doors blankets over the bed. Why is his mattress so much more comfortable than mine? It’s really shitty of a cruise line to have such a disparity in the comfort levels of their cabins.
Sighing, I slide my legs over the edge of the bed, careful not to wake the beast. Maybe if he gets enough rest, he won’t be a crab-ass today. Plus, he sure as shit doesn’t need to see my hard-on after his bitchy throat punch comment last night. Dramatic much? He would never throat punch me, the liar.
Flicking on the bathroom light, I spot a patch of dried cum on my stomach. Ew. Guess I missed a spot last night. No way was I getting out of bed for a proper cleanup, though. Knowing Murph, he’d have shoved me out the door as soon as I made for the bed again. We’ve been camping together before. What’s the big deal about sharing a bed?
Leaning over the bowl, I grip my dick to take aim and shudder at its sensitivity. One too many dry strokes last night before…
My cock twitches in my hand at the memory of Murph’s spit-covered palm capping the tip of my dick. It did that last night when he touched me. That was kind of strange. Right?
I don’t think a guy has ever touched my dick before, not even a doctor. I mean, it was just a hand, and if any other dude touched my dick besides me, I guess I’d choose for it to be Murph. I’ve just never imagined a situation where he’d ever be touching it, or… while I was aroused.
But now he has…
And now my nuts are tingling thinking about it, just like they did last night.
That feels… pervy of me. Shit. I’m a terrible friend.
I think this really is a sex cruise. Because I swear I’m horny again. Yesterday was Boner City.
First, those dancers last night—man, those guys can move. They were so confident and happy, and yet classy. I’ve never seen guys act like that—half-naked guys, dancing for other guys. It was… sexy? Is that the right word?
I don’t know. I’m not gay or bisexual, so what do I know? But I can understand why they seemed to enjoy themselves as much as the crowd. Who wouldn’t enjoy feeling that wanted and admired? Hell. They even had me admiring them. My stomach was all warm and giddy. They should get a raise if they can do that to a straight guy.
Laughing at myself, I shake out and turn to the sink, stealing one of Murph’s washcloths. He won’t miss it. They probably restock the fancy cabins three times a day. It’s his fault I got cum all over me, anyway.
Okay. Why is my dick twitching again? My hand freezes where I’m swiping at my stomach. I’m not so sure I can blame the twitches on the sex cruise. What else would it be, then? The memory of Murph’s strong, warm, slobbery hand on my dick while I watched porn?
Nonsense. He was just helping me out. It was probably the porn. That porn was… um, different?
Another twitch.
Shit. What is going on with me?
Man, this is so confusing.
Looking in the mirror, I decide it’s time for what I like to call a come-to-Jesse moment, since I have the privacy of the bathroom right now. Staring at my flushed cheeks, I can’t hide what I hid from Murph last night after we got off. I thought for a moment about admitting to him that the sight of those two guys being so open and into each other was kind of hot in its own unique way, but… well, he just looked so deranged and grumpy. I could tell he was about to pull another one of his closing up routines he’s been doing lately. It seemed more imperative to de-escalate the situation than to pick his brain about why I busted a nut over two dudes fucking.
What in the hell is—
Is that a dick in his shower?
Spinning around, the reflection I saw in the mirror reveals itself in all its silicone glory. Stuck to the shower wall, it’s pointing right at me, making its presence known. I was not alone in here after all.
Is that part of the Gaytoberfest amenities? Do only the fancy cabins come with a dick?
Was I supposed to get a dick?
All I got in my welcome tote were a few coupons, a visor, and one of those buttons like Philip wears. The only other explanation would be if Murph brought his own dick.
Ha! BYOD.
Snickering, I catch myself and lock it up. The last thing he needs is to hear me in here laughing about his sex toy.
Tiptoeing forward, I notice its position is about waist level. It’s the perfect spot if someone was on their knees, giving head.
No way. Was he practicing his bj skills?
A few weeks ago, it might have seemed strange to think of my friend doing that, but now, each new facet I learn about how he views attraction leaves me curious. It’s like learning a new language. I’m not entirely sure, though, what the heat in my groin is supposed to mean as his wall ornament and I have a staring contest.
I’m thirty years old. I’ve never before associated a dick, other than my own, with pleasure. After seeing that guy worship the other guy’s cock in the film last night and hearing the way Murph grunted like a boar in heat as he watched them, however, I have the overwhelming urge to find out what being on the other end of a dick feels like. Because the guy that was giving sure as hell sounded happy about giving. Should I be salty that no one’s ever sounded that elated while they went down on me?
Peering through the crack in the bathroom door, I can see Murph’s feet still swaddled underneath the sheets. I can hear his soft stream of breath.
Grumpy Baloney Bear still sleeps. I have time. Time for a little dicksploration.
I’m here. The dick is here. It’s fortuitous, really. No prying eyes while I see if this is just a fluke.
Easing down on one knee in the confined stall brings me nearly eye level to the cockhead. I’m not sure why my heartbeat is fluttering. It’s not like the dick knows what I’m up to. It’s silicone, for crying out loud, not a real one.
Shit. It looks kind of real, though. It’s got veins and everything.
“Hi,” I mumble, feeling obliged to give an icebreaker. “I’m Jesse.”
There. We’ve been introduced. I feel better now.
“I, uh, I’m not going to hurt you,” I assure it, taking in the curve of the glans with fascination.
I’ve never seen mine from this angle. It feels like I’ve discovered a new life form.
Reaching out, I graze the underside with my fingertip, tracing the fake vein all the way to the tip. A little tremor ripples through my body, and I let out the breath I was holding as it bobs.
Dang. Totally looks real now.
Taking stock of my reaction, I realize my throat has gone dry. My balls are heavy. Images of that film last night flicker through my thoughts—the way the one guy was munching on the other guy’s hole like it was a meal. It’s… still turning me on.
Does getting your butthole licked feel good? It’s nothing I’ve ever imagined, which makes me wonder if I’m old-fashioned. In my defense, it’s not like you learn shit like that on an orchard.
I still can’t believe Murph has had sex with men, or rather that he knows what to do. How in the heck did he figure it all out? Not that I’d have been able to offer any advice, but I hate that he probably had no one to give him the kind of sex ed talk that he needed.
Well, he had porn, I guess. I, on the other hand, had never seen gay porn until last night.
I feel so behind the curve, a curve I never fathomed could be a curve for me. A dick curve. Who knew?
Maybe I’ll fall off the curve and the next time I watch gay porn, it won’t do anything for me. The longer I stare at the dildo, though, the more I want to know the answer right now.
There’s only one way to find out.
Swallowing, I wet my lips and reach out, trying to be bold and nonchalant like Murph was last night, wrapping my hand around the base. Its spongy, rubbery texture doesn’t feel like my cock, but the form is still accurate. And for whatever reason, just holding it in my hand is doing something for me. My nuts have drawn up, and I’m hard—fully hard.
Wow. Still on the dick curve.
Is it the element of a lifetime thinking cock wasn’t in my wheelhouse? Is it because Murph has paved the way and made me realize it’s a wheel that can be in my house? I don’t know, but my mouth is watering like it’s a slice of Mom’s apple pie. I didn’t know it was possible to be hungry for cock.
“I… I’m just going to give you a little lick,” I whisper.
Extending my tongue, I flatten it across the underside of the tip. It tastes like how a hospital smells. I can’t imagine a real one tastes like this, which has me feeling cheated for some reason.
Lapping toward the end of the tip, the weight falls off my tongue, leaving the dildo bobbing. Does mine move that much when someone licks it? I didn’t know you had to chase after these things. Tricky little buggers. It’s almost like they have a mind of their own.
I can still feel how the texture felt against my tongue, the way the curve of the underside of the tip brushed against it. It has my skin tingling all the way to my toes.
Why is this so hot, and how did I never know it could be? I officially rescind any post-worry I’ve ever had about anyone who’s gone down on me not enjoying it. There’s no way they didn’t. My body is full of static, like I just licked a battery. I am so glad I have a dick.