Page 39 of Exrated
“So,” Tyler says. “I just shove my dick in that tube and wait?”
“Yep, but the key is making sure you stay erect. This batter is made to mold over each little vein, every nook and cranny. We want it to look as much like the real thing as possible.”
“Do you need some magazines?” she asks.
“Huh?”
“Visual stimulation…or where the two of you…”
“Oh,” I shake my head. “No, no the two of us are not—magazines.”
The woman leans over, opens a cabinet, and pulls out a basket of crumpled magazines.
“Oh, think of all the great names in porn that have touched those beauties,” I say, stifling a laugh.
“Jemma, really?” Tyler glares at me and I shrug.
The woman shakes her head and reaches for the door. “And make sure you undress all the way. That plaster gets a little messy, and it does stain clothing.”
The door clicks shut. And now, here we are. Alone. In a room with a penis mold in my right hand.
“So,” I say. “Let’s get this over with, I guess.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine. No big deal.”
“Jemma, really,” he says, his voice soft. “Look at me.”
I do and immediately wish I hadn’t because fuck me, he is breathtaking and it makes me feel like a stupid, weak bitch for wanting him. “Yep. Looking.”
“I should have told you.”
“Nah, it’s fine. I overreacted the other day. I was just… you know, shocked and all.”
His studies me. “Yeah, sure…”
“No big deal, really.” I walk to the sink and set the container next to the bowl.
He huffs. “For some reason, I don’t believe you.”
God, I want to slap him. “Tyler, really. We dated in high school. We hooked up because we ran into each other. I mean, shit, you are hot, but it’s not like there’s anything there.”
I see the slightest flinch in his face, and it hits me in the chest a little.
“Yeah…” he mumbles.
“So, drop your pants already.”
His eyes narrow as he kicks his shoes off. When he pulls his shirt over his head, my gaze immediately goes to his broad chest. Now he’s unfastening his jeans and shoving both them and his boxers down. I swallow. He’s naked, and it’s just him and me and this dick mold in my hand. And this is awkward because I cannot stop my eyes from dragging over him.Damn, that body.
When my gaze meets his, he’s smirking, his tongue flicking over that damn lip ring.
“What?” I ask, almost sounding defensive.
“You’re staring.”
“You’re naked.”
