by Meghan Quinn
“What if it’s like a cork and shuts the pee off?”
“What’s the big deal? Then you just hold your pee; I used to have to do it all the time when I was at work and having to share a bathroom with a bunch of other women. Pee shyness is a real thing.”
Henry sighed in frustration. “When you’re a guy, holding your pee mid-stream is extremely painful, Rosie. For a man, it’s pretty much impossible, unless you want to be in a shit-ton of pain, and I would rather not be in a lot of pain with one of your fake diamonds in my urethra.”
I had to move my hand over my mouth to hold in my giggle. Why did I think this was so funny? I shouldn’t be laughing; this is a serious thing happening to my boyfriend’s penis. I should be vastly concerned and finding a solution.
But . . .
All I can think about is how shiny it makes his penis.
“If your penis was a necklace, I would wear it with pride.”
“Rosie.” Henry wasn’t happy with my immaturity.
“If it was at Zale’s, I would get the protection warranty.”
“You’re not funny.”
I laughed to myself and threw the finger guns at Sir Licks-a-Lot, who was now looking in on us. “He thinks I’m funny.” The demon cat was sitting in the doorway, looking at us with his mouth half open. He did that sometimes, and I didn’t know why, but right about now, I took it as silent laughter from my jokes.
Henry couldn’t be any more annoyed with me as he continued to hold his cock up. “No one thinks you’re funny.”
“I would stroke that puppy if I were you. What happens when you go flaccid? Will the bling sink into your urinary tract? That can’t be good. Try pinching it out.”
“Excuse me? Pinch it out? Are you out of your damn mind? I’m not pinching my dick.”
I closed my index finger and thumb together, making a lobster claw motion at him. “Just pinch the head, Henry. Squeeze the top and pop it right out of there.” I threw my pinchers at his face and he knocked them away. “Oh! Or I can get some tweezers—”
“No fucking tweezers. Sharp metal things are not coming near me, especially if you’re the one managing them.” I should be annoyed by that jab, but this is still far too amusing to me.
“That rules out Sir Licks-a-Lot’s claws then, huh?”
Henry shook his head. “I dick–dazzle myself and all of a sudden you become a comedian. Great.”
“I’m trying to be helpful. I thought the pinching thing was a good idea. Hmm . . .” I pressed my finger to my chin as I thought about another solution. “Maybe if you jump up and down while jiggling your dick, it will just fall out. You will have to point your penis at the ground though, let gravity do its thing. That’s what I did when I got that stupid bullet stuck in my vagina.”
“Stupid bullet? You don’t think it’s so stupid now when I use it on you.”
Cue the blush.
“Shut up and start jumping.”
Henry grumbled incoherent words I couldn’t make out, while he stood and got in position. He looked over his shoulder at me and said, “I would prefer if you didn’t watch me jiggle myself. I would like to keep some of my dignity after all this is said and done.”
“I won’t look,” I lied, a smirk barely remaining hidden.He gave me questioning gleam.
“Hand over eyes, missy.”
“Fine.” I covered my eyes with my hand, but kept a tiny sliver opened for a sneak peek of the dick-dazzle dance.
To my lucky stars, Henry started bouncing up and down, shaking his dick and talking to himself, telling the bling to fall out. The scene was all too familiar. Seeing it from an outsider’s perspective just about killed me. I couldn’t hold it back, I laughed out loud and fell to the floor, unable to control the movements of my body from pure, unadulterated joy.
Images of Henry’s tight butt bobbing up and down and his arms shaking his penis were engrained in my memory . . . forever.
“You weren’t supposed to look,” he yelled at me, penis still in hand but missing a certain glint.
I continued to laugh as I answered him and pointed at his junk. “I think you got it out.”
Faster than I could blink, Henry lifted his penis to look inside and then let out a sigh of relief when he bent down to the floor and held up the little gem that had been stuck in his pee hole.
“You little fucker.”
I laughed some more. I was being that person, and I didn’t care. It was just too funny. “Want to save it, maybe put it in an envelope and store it under your pillow for the penis fairy? You never know, he might leave you a pack of condoms if you’ve been a good boy.”
The bling was tossed at my head right before Henry pulled his sweats on. “You’re hysterical.” Sarcasm at its best. “Because you’re so funny, you can sit in here and laugh by yourself. I’m having my curry. And you can forget about getting any of my loving tonight. You’ve been cut off.”
“Hey,” I protested. “How is that fair? You would have laughed if that happened to me.”
“Cut off,” he repeated, walking down the hallway.
“Drama queen,” I shouted.
Disappointed, I looked at Sir Licks-a-Lot, who was looking between the both of us, mouth still half open.
“You look stupid like that. Close your damn mouth, you idiot,” I snapped at the cat and then stomped down the hallway. If I wasn’t getting any sex tonight, I was going to at least enjoy some Indian curry.
Now I had another reason never to visit Marta again. Vajazzle—Delaney can have that one.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Fucking Condoms
HENRY
“That sounds painful, dude.”
Derk and I sat at the bar of one of our favorite sport restaurants watching the Yankees game and enjoying a beer away from our women. It’d been a few days since the dick-dazzle incident, and I was still a little sour about the whole situation. Not because I was embarrassed or that Rosie wouldn’t stop laughing, but because I straight-up liked the fucking vajazzle, but forced her to take it off, due to being terrified about corking myself up with another adhesive fake diamond.
“It wasn’t painful, scarier than anything. You didn’t have that same problem?”
“No.” Derk laughed. “Then again, I didn’t run my dick along it either. What were you thinking?”
I shrugged my shoulders. “I have no clue. I was turned on. Wasn’t thinking. It looked fucking sexy on her. Didn’t you like Delaney’s?”
“Surprisingly, I did.”
“Why do you say it like that?” I took a sip of my beer, waiting for his answer.
“I don’t know. I’ve never really been into the whole frilly vagina stuff. I don’t care if Delaney waxes or bedazzles her pussy. Let’s be honest, it’s a pocket of goodness I like shoving my dick in, and as long as I don’t have to sift through the Amazon to get to it, I’m good.”
“I think every guy has the same thought. It was just something new and different.”
Derk smirked over his beer bottle before taking a sip. Once he swallowed, he said, “You know that old saying about how you become the person you’re in a relationship with?”
“Yeah . . .” I said skeptically. “Wait, you don’t think I’ve become Rosie, do you?”
“Dude, you got a gem stuck in your dick hole. Shit like that only happens to Rosie.”
He had a point.
“I’ve been feeling off my game lately,” I admitted, trying to come up with a reason why I corked up my log with a diamond.
“Ah, is this going to be one of those nights? I wasn’t ready for some serious guy talk. Do we need shots?”
“No.” I chuckled. “Unless you can’t handle a little man-on-man action.” Derk looked at me funny and then I heard what I said. “Umm, I mean man talk. Not man-on-man action. No sword fights tonight.”
“As opposed to other nights?” Derk asked.
“Shit, I am becoming Rosie.”
We both laughed and, maybe because they were going
to be needed, ordered shots. I really was feeling off my game lately. I tried to keep it together, but with Rosie’s inability to fill her need for my penis, the whole Tasha fiasco, and the pressure at work, I wasn’t feeling myself, and it was bothering me. I felt like I was spiraling out of control, and I didn’t know how to stop it. A lot of it had to do with Rosie’s erratic behavior. It was one of the reasons I asked Derk out for drinks and some guy time. I had some serious questions to ask him.
Once our shots arrived, we clinked our glasses together and downed them. I chased mine with some beer, trying to wash the harsh taste out of my mouth.
“Shit, that was gross,” Derk said, wiping his face.
“Pretty much. I think we’re getting too old to be doing shots.”
“I’m going to have to agree with you. So, you’re having lady problems?” Derk folded his hands together and gave me his attention.
Smart-ass.
“Not really lady problems. Well, maybe. I don’t know. Rosie’s been acting seriously insane lately. And I know she’s quirky, which I adore about her, but this is different. Her emotions are so unpredictable. One minute she’s laughing her ass off and pointing at the cat while he licks the window screen, and then she’s crying hysterically because the cat didn’t lick vertically, he licked horizontally.”
“That makes no sense.”
“I know,” I almost shouted. “But it’s true. And when she’s not laughing or crying uncontrollably, she’s trying to eat away at my dick.”
“That’s never a bad thing.”
I held up my hands in defense. “Don’t get me wrong. I love sex, especially with Rosie. It’s exciting and fun, and fuck, her body is amazing, but I honestly think she’s going to break my dick.”
“Is she doing weird moves?” Derk asked, a squint to his face.
“Well, yeah, but that’s not what I mean. I think she’s going to break my dick, like I won’t be able to get it up anymore.”
“Why? Too much sex?” I nodded, and he laughed. “Dude, there is no such thing as too much sex.”
“Oh, really? How many times a week do you and Delaney do it? And when I say do it, I mean both of you are meeting completion.”
“Fuck, don’t say meet completion. Come on, man, just say orgasmed.”
“Fine, how many times do you both orgasm in a week?” I thought my phrase sounded better, but I wasn’t about to argue with Derk. I wanted to prove him wrong . . . that there was such a thing as too much sex.
“Let’s see, on average?” he asked. I nodded and watched him mentally count out his number. “On average, I would say probably ten times a week.”
“Ten, and you feel good about ten?”
“I feel damn good about ten,” Derk replied with his chest puffed out. “I’ve been with Delaney since college; the fact that she still wants my dick that much is an accomplishment. Why? What’s your number?”
I played with my beer bottle on the counter of the bar, preparing to give my number. I knew Derk wasn’t going to believe me, but I didn’t want to lie either. “On average, twenty-five times a week.”
From the corner of my eye, I saw Derk’s mouth drop. “No fucking way. You do not have sex on average twenty-five times a week.”
I nodded my head, as I couldn’t make eye contact. “And that’s not even being generous. If I really had to count it up, I would say probably thirty to thirty-five times a week.”
“How is that even possible?”
“I have no clue. Every morning when we wake up, then in the shower, sometimes before we leave for work. I have to set the alarm clock for an earlier time now just to make sure Rosie is satisfied before I leave. Then when I get home, she attacks me at the door. Usually after we eat and always before we go to bed. Then there’s the nights where I wake up to her straddling me. I’m not kidding, dude, I really think she is going to break my penis.”
I initiated sex as well, but she did way more than me. And sometimes, the only reason I initiated it to begin with was because she gave me those fuck-me eyes. I couldn’t deny them . . . ever.
“Man, the girl loses her virginity and now she can’t get enough. Well, good for you.” Derk patted me on the back. “You’ve got yourself a winner.”
“I knew that before all the sex, you asshat. I’m seriously concerned. The other day, before they went to get vajazzled, she couldn’t fit in her jeans, and she nearly lost it. And fuck, she wouldn’t stop complaining about her pussy being heavy or purple, whatever the hell that’s supposed to mean. Every time I go to eat her out, she’s concerned about her pussy being purple. I don’t even know how to react to that. I mean, is that even a thing?”
Derk chuckled while he sipped his beer. “Dude, are you listening to yourself?”
“Yeah, I have ears. What’s your point?”
He laughed some more and shook his head. “You so got her pregnant.”
“What?” I shouted, not able to keep my voice down. “I did not get her fucking pregnant. We use protection every time. There is no way.”
Derk grew serious. He turned to me and held out his hand as he counted off symptoms. “Erratic behavior, weight gain, horny, and a heavy pussy. She’s pregnant.”
“No way. If she was pregnant, wouldn’t she be throwing up everywhere? And how the fuck would you even know? You’re not a doctor.”
“Yeah, but my dad is a gynecologist. I know way too much about the female body; things no man should know. Your girl is knocked up. You’re a baby daddy.”
Anger boiled inside me. There was no way Rosie was pregnant. Yes, she was acting weird, and maybe her boobs seemed a little bigger than normal, but that could go hand in hand with her weight gain. We’d used condoms every time and none of them had ever broken. I checked.
“She’s not pregnant.” I shook my head in denial, even though there was a voice in the back of my head agreeing with Derk.
“Okay, but don’t tell me I didn’t tell you so.”
We sat in silence as I thought about the bomb Derk just dropped on me. Rosie . . . pregnant. Shit, we weren’t ready for a baby. Could we even afford a baby right now? Our Broadway apartment would be leased out to someone else, especially if I didn’t get that promotion. Would we even want to raise a kid in the city?
Fuck, did she want a kid with me? What if she didn’t want kids? What if she didn’t want to have a future with me? Having kids with another person pretty much cements them in your life forever. Would she want to be my forever? Would she want to be my forever? She loved me, and knew I loved her, but what if . . . Fuck.
“You’re sweating, a lot.”
I felt the sweat dripping down my back. In a matter of seconds, my life was flipped upside down. Was she really pregnant? I tried to think of the last time she had her period. Had she even had her period since we’d been together?
“Holy shit,” I breathed out heavily.
“What?” Derk asked, his body completely turned to mine, concern laced in his eyes.
“This is going to be a really stupid question, but women get their period every month, right?”
“Yeah. Menstruation comes like clockwork every month . . . unless they’re pregnant.”
I gulped.
“Maybe sometimes you don’t notice when they’re on their period?” I asked, hoping this was the truth.
“Well, according to the number of times you have sex a week, there is no way you wouldn’t notice. That shit would be bloody man. Plus, if Rosie is anything like Delaney when she’s going through that bloody cycle shit, then she would be spitting fire every time you looked at her.”
“Fuck . . .” My head fell in my hands as I leaned against the bar. Derk patted me on the back.
“Congrats, dude, you got your girlfriend pregnant. And judging by your timeline, I’m guessing you planted your seed on your first try. Did you condom it up?”
“Of course I did, Christ.” I shook my head, shock shaking my entire core. “Fucking condoms, what good are they anyway?”
&
nbsp; “They really aren’t. My dad always told me the best form of birth control is abstinence.”
“I hate you right now.”
I wanted to plow my head through the wooden bar, anything to help me forget this moment. Anything to erase the knowledge that my girlfriend was pregnant.
“Hey, it’s not that bad. You want to marry her, right?”
“Of course, I do.” Have for a long time. “I want nothing more then to make her my wife and start a family with her, but I wanted time. We’ve been together for a few months. We’re still figuring each other out. I don’t want her to think I want to marry her just because she’s having my baby. I’m not financially ready for this. Babies cost a lot.”
“That they do, but it’s the risk you take when having sex.”
“Fuck you.” I laughed. “Shit, and I’m up for a promotion; I need to get that job now. If I have any hope of making a good life for us, I need to get that job.”
“A promotion?. You’ll get it.”
I snorted, straight-up snorted, and couldn’t believe my damn luck. “Yeah, guess what I have to do in order to get the job?”
“Don’t say suck your boss off or anything. I would lose all respect for you, man. Not because it would be some guy-on-guy action, but because you don’t have to get ahead by performing sexual favors.”
I held up my hand to stop Derk. “I have to come up with a brilliant campaign for Legacy.”
“Legacy?” Derk thought about it for a second and then threw his head back and laughed. “The condom company? Oh, fuck, that’s great. How perfect. How’s that going for you?”
“Not good now,” I huffed, downing the rest of my beer. “And to make it better, I have to go up against Tasha for the job.”
“Tasha, as in your ex-girlfriend?”
“The one and only.”
“Does Rosie know this?”
“She knows about Tasha, not the promotion. I didn’t want her to worry about it. The only reason she knows about Tasha is because I was working late one night and lo and behold, she tried to surprise me by showing up in nothing but a trench coat. Tasha was working late as well and was all up in my business.”
