Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 75143 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75143 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
“Limits list.” It was not a BDSM ingredient list. “It’s a limits list.”
And we really should’ve gone over those again before letting Joel drink anything.
“Was that on your list? Should that be on your list? I can’t remember.” Tate didn’t seem to have any issue with Joel petting his cock but he gave it a squeeze to make it look better. “I don’t want to pretend to be small, but we could put you in a cock cage and pretend you were cute and tiny.”
Thankfully, Joel didn’t seem to think Tate was actually saying he had a small dick, so we didn’t have to sort through the drama that might come with that. He was drunk as a skunk but took the question seriously. “I don’t know. It looked kind of cool. The cage would make it small enough to fuck with my head.”
So he wanted us to fuck with his head?
When he’d first started making random comments about all the weird shit people were doing in the building, it hadn’t sounded like he’d wanted to try anything specific. I was starting to think that was because he just hadn’t found the right parts of the internet yet.
“Then we can do that, man.” Tate reached his free arm over his body and ruffled Joel’s hair. “I’d love to cage you and tell you what a cute little dick you have. I bet it’d be adorable.”
“It would be.” Joel had just enough alcohol to think pushing the front of his track shorts down was a great idea. “See? The internet said it’s well sculpted and perfectly proportional.”
Huh?
“It is. It’s like one you’d see for parts modeling.” Tate was taking the ridiculous conversation way too seriously and released his own dick long enough to pat Joel’s. “It would look really good small, though. You’re right.”
“Let’s go back a second.” Before they wandered off again or I forgot what to worry about. “You know you’re not supposed to put pictures of your dick on the internet, right? We talked about no sending dick pics when that asshole senior wanted pictures of your cock.”
Thankfully, I’d been a smarter freshman than Joel had been and I’d put a stop to that shit right away. My parents hadn’t known to include BDSM stuff in their lecture, but they’d added the no dick pics part very clearly.
Joel rolled his eyes, though.
Shit.
“It’s not sending a dick pic to put it in an educational forum to get feedback.” He was so sure of that he just kept rambling as he caressed Tate’s dick. “I needed to know if mine looked right.”
Goddamn it.
Flopping back on the floor, I looked up at the ceiling and wondered if it’d be blasphemous to pray for help for stupid sex-related shit. I wasn’t that religious, and though I kind of wanted the help, I wasn’t sure if that would be rude or not.
But while I was having an existential crisis, Tate took over to handle the problem.
“Alright, I’m glad you found a way to get confidence in your dick, but I think Dean is kind of the possessive type. So if we’re going to explore this shit, you can’t go putting your dick out for other people to admire. He’s just not cool with that.” Tate used his now only half-full cup to gesture toward me. “That’s probably going to be on his ingredient list.”
“Limits list. And yes. That’s going on there.” Joel’s dick did not need to be all over the internet no matter what his logic was. “We are the only ones who get to see his dick, either in person or online, while we are…exploring.”
I wasn’t sure that was the right word for trying to figure out why all the neighbors were into BDSM, but I couldn’t think of a better one, so I didn’t argue about it.
Joel made a soft thinking sound but eventually nodded. “Okay, I think that’s fair and I got the information I wanted, so I don’t need to get any more opinions.”
Thank God.
“Good.” Tate seemed pleased with the decision and reached back over to wiggle our drunk-as-a-skunk friend’s dick since Joel was still petting his. “Just because it’s parts modeling pretty doesn’t mean you get to show it off to strangers without our permission.”
What?
Joel perked up…probably because of the way Tate was stroking his pretty cock. “But I get to show it off to you guys? Dean always makes us keep underwear on at the very least.”
He shook his head when I tried to say it was reasonable. “You can’t keep that rule in place if you want to play with my penis. It’s really pretty.”
Clearly, I was the only one whose family had the you need to have fucking clothes on rule. “It’s not unreasonable to have people keep covered if you’re not sleeping with them.”