Page 2 of Faking It Right
I’d seen plenty of dicks in porn before, but nothing compared to discovering my roommate possessed the Burj Khalifa of dicks. For some reason, that knowledge was sending my insides into a tailspin that I absolutely refused to dissect.
I needed a drink. Or therapy. Or both.
Definitely both.
Harley’s honeyed tone worked wonders on the man, who eagerly went down on him again without so much as a whimper. The guy on his knees looked like he was trying to deep-throat a cannon. Did he have to dislocate his jaw like a snake? Was there a secret technique? A training regimen? Did Harley hand out a manual and safety gear before hookups?
I watched in disbelief as the stranger took Harley down to the base with a muffled moan like it was no big deal. It was a feat that seemed to defy the very laws of physics.
Harley lounged against the cushions once more, stroking the man’s hair again. “That’s it, gorgeous. Just like that.”
I remained frozen, unable to tear my eyes away from the spectacle they were putting on. It was like live-action porn, only instead of a beautiful woman, it was a dude enthusiastically sucking his dick. Mine stiffened in response, whichdefinitelywasn’t supposed to happen.
But Harley’s breathy sighs and sensuous pose were seriously fucking me up. I may have been straight, but I wasn’t blind to the fact that my friend was hotter than a jalapeño in Hell. With his blond hair, blue eyes, and stunning face, he put models to shame. And right now, he was radiating some serious sex pheromones that scrambled my ability to think straight.Literally.
“Sorry,” I finally managed to stammer, my brain catching up to the fact that I was standing there gawking at my roommate’s cock like a tourist trap of the world’s biggest dildo. Which, to be fair, it probably rivaled.
“No problem,” Harley replied with infuriating casualness, as if I’d borrowed his pen rather than interrupted while being serviced by a guy who deserved a trophy for Best in Blow Jobs. “Did you need something?”
Did I need something?What I needed was brain bleach, or maybe the ability to stop staring at the python that had apparently been living with me for three years without my knowledge. I couldn’t believe there was a cage that could contain that thing.
“I, uh, no, I just—“ My eyes betrayed me again, darting down to the man working that one-eyed monster. It looked even bigger now that I was trying not to look at it. “I’ll come back later. When you’re, um, less impressive?”
Fuck. That wasn’t what I meant to say.
“Uh, I mean when you’re done,” I corrected quickly. “Not less impressive. Not that you’re—I mean, obviously, you’re not…” I gestured vaguely at the general area of his crotch, then immediately regretted it. “Forget it. I’ll go to my room and give you two some privacy.”
Harley ran his fingers through his partner’s brown hair. “Why don’t you take a seat and stay a while? I’m enjoying the audience.”
I arched my eyebrows at him. “You seriously expect me to participate in your voyeurism kink?”
He smirked at me with a level of sexy smugness that should be illegal. “You might learn something.”
“I’m not interested in lessons on how to suck your dick, sorry.”
Snickering at my protest, he gestured to the love seat beside the couch. “You have a lot more to learn than that. Sit.”
Dropping my book bag by the door, my feet obeyed his authoritative command without my permission. I couldn’t believe I sat down to continue watching the spectacle up close. “What the hell is wrong with me for staying?”
“There’s nothing wrong with being curious,” Harley replied. “Relax. Enjoy the show.”
As the man bobbed his head along Harley’s length, he worked the parts he couldn’t fit in his mouth with his fist. I had received plenty of blow jobs from women in my life, but seeing it up close from that angle was oddly fascinating. It also gave me a sense of scale about how fucking enormous Harley’s cock was.“Damn, with a dick like that, no wonder you’re such an arrogant bastard.”
He chuckled as he arched his back with another breathy sigh that made my pants grow tighter. “One reason amongst many.”
The longer I watched, the more curious I became. Since I never held anything back from Harley, I figured asking questions was fair game. “What does this make you?”
“Fucking horny as hell and dying to come,” he groaned, tightening his grip on the man’s hair as he guided his movements.
I rolled my eyes at his answer. “No, I meant, does this make you a top or bottom?”
He tilted his head, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Which do you think?”
“If he’s pleasuring you, then you’d be the top, since he’s doing all the work to take care of you,” I said, my cheeks flushing from my choice of words. “But he’s also the one controlling your pleasure, which would make you the bottom. So, which is it?”
“Either, neither, or both.” Harley chuckled at my exasperated huff. “As long as it feels good, I don’t give a shit what label we slap on it.”
His response sparked a question I found dangerously intriguing. “You bottom?”
