Page 8 of Colt

Prez stood, palms to the table. “Bet it’s all bullshit. Bet you’re hung like a damned church mouse underneath all that swagger.”

Atlas got to his feet, hands going to his buckle. “How about a little wager? Hundred bucks.”

Prez glanced at Cash. “Go get the tape measure, Son.”

The Veep’s head reared back. “I’m not touchin’ that thing. I’ll get a fuckin’ rash. Have you seen the chicks he used to run with?”

By then, Atlas’s belt hung open. He went to his fly, popping the buttons open one by one. “I reckon I’ll take my Stitch out for a nice dinner with my extra hundred.” He dropped his jeans, a loud chink emitting from the belt as it hit the deck. With a flourish, Atlas then dropped his shorts and jammed his hands to his waist. “Take a peek, motherfuckers,” he crowed.

I looked down and froze.

Yep. Atlas had an abnormally big dick.

It hung down his hairy-assed thighs, thick, pink, and veiny. I was surprised he was groomed; honestly, Atlas didn’t seem the type to care. I had to admit Sophie was right when she likened it to a Coke can. He’d have made a fortune in porn.

“Fuck me,” Bowie said, voice strangled as he leaned down to examine Atlas’s crotch.

Abe started choking.

Cash’s mouth dropped open, his eyes rounding.

“Bet that makes Sophie’s eyes water,” Bowie muttered, grimacing.

Abe barked another laugh.

I winced at the thought of Atlas’s monster cock going near any of my orifices.

“I’m surprised poor Sophie doesn’t walk with a limp,” Abe added.

“Poor bitch,” Cash breathed.

A thought came to me. “You know, statistics say that one man in a billion has a penis of ten inches or over. There’s approximately three point nine seven billion men in the world, which means Atlas is one of four men in the entire world with a huge cock.”

Chuckles filled the air.

I sat back in my chair. “Those statistics aren’t totally accurate, though. Measuring every living man, especially those in Africa, South America, or Asia, is impossible. Indigenous people still live in small tribes without contact with the outside world. For example, the Sentinelese who live on the North Sentinel Island are the most secluded. Thousands live in the Brazilian rainforests and still have no contact with civilization. Some people live in Papua New Guinea with languages and customs the Western world has never encountered.”

The room fell silent, every eye trained on me.

“How do you know all that shit?” Prez asked after a minute.

“By reading, watching quiz shows and documentaries. Though I learned that stuff in school.” I informed him.

“Fuck me,” Atlas muttered, pulling his jeans up. “All I learned at school was the best way to play hooky.”

“That explains a lot.” Prez laughed. “It’s not like you could play many sports lugging that huge dick around.”

Abe roared a laugh.

“Didn’t need school,” Atlas retorted, fastening his jeans. “May not know all that encyclopedia shit, but at least I’ve got street smarts.”

“Yeah,” Prez retorted. “And Colt’s got everythin’ smarts.”

“Didn’t you go to some stuck-up private school?” Bowie asked me.

I stared at him, weighing up how much I should say. This shit was always tricky to navigate. Prez knew I was from a wealthy family, but he didn’t know to what extreme.

“Yeah, my family’s got some bank,” I told Bowie, who was looking at me expectantly. “But I hate all that bullshit.”

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