Page 41 of Exrated
I can’t help but laugh when I glance down at his crotch. His dick is crammed inside that tube white goop oozing over the edges.
“Shit, it’s getting tight.” His brow wrinkles. His eyes go wide. “Oh, fuck. Jemma, is it supposed to get this tight?”
“Like I’m supposed to know.” I glance at my watch. “Okay, five minutes. Just keep your dick hard and in there for five minutes.”
He huffs. “This is so fucking stupid.”
“What?”
He motions to his dick with his hands. “This shit.”
“Yeah, well…”
And we stand in silence for the next four minutes.
“Okay,” I glance down at his dick then back up to his face. “Take it out.”
He nods then tries to tug the tube away from his body. “Shit,” he says in a breath. Another hard tug. “Shit. Shit!” Tug. Tug. “Fuck!”
“Stuck?”
“Yeah.”
His goop covered hands fly to his face.
“Just relax, okay?’ I say.
“Relax? My dick is stuck in a goddamn canister of plaster.”
“Yeah, well, it could be stuck in worse places. Just chill out for a second.”
Dragging his hands through his hair, he starts pacing, the canister flopping with each step.
“Get unhard or something.” I laugh a little. “Shouldn’t it fall off then.”
He turns and glares at me. “Can you go get someone, please?”
“Oh, yeah,” I giggle. “Sure.”
I walk out into the hallway, find one of the employees and send them back to the room while I wait in the reception area. When Tyler finally comes out, he’s not smiling.
“Everything come out okay?” I ask as we head toward the elevator.
“Yeah.”
“Good.” I press the button to the elevator.
I’d be lying if I said this wasn’t weird, and not even for the obvious reasons. It’s strange to have someone you were once so close to become a stranger, but that’s what we really are. This kind of awkwardness is the worst kind. This deep seated part of me wants everything to be the way it used to, but it can’t be.
“Like that shirt,” he says. “That’s from their first tour, isn’t it?”
I glance down at the worn Pandemic Sorrow t-shirt and nod. “Yeah.” Please, for the love of God, don’t mention that tape with Stone.
“Oh, cool…”
“Yeah…” I swallow.
And silence. There’s tension between us. I used to thrive on this tension, but now, well, it’s not fun. I quickly look over at him, and he forces a smile.Fuck those dimples that just popped out.He pulls his phone from his pocket, and while he stares down at it, my attention remains on his face.
