Page 142 of Sour Notes

“Looks like you like seeing it too, huh? Made me yours, was it?” Smiling wickedly, she scoops another drop of cum into her mouth.

I could die a happy fucking man right now.

Actually, am I dead?

Shit, I bet this is a dream. I’m probably passed out beside her on that pool bed right now. If that’s it, I never want to wake up.

“You look ready for another round, Wolfie.” She starts tracing the lion tattoo on my chest with her nail again, the sharp drag snapping my attention back to her. To us. Fuck if I know how we got here, but it’s not a dream. I’m the luckiest motherfucker ever right now.

“We still have one more toy to test, you know…”

Oh shit. I was hoping she wouldn’t remember that, because, as hot as it would be for her to fuck herself with a replica of my dick…

Wait, that idea is super fucking hot. Maybe I need to suck it up for the greater good, because if she’s using a dildo shaped like my cock, she’ll think of me when she does, right? I should test that theory.

For science.

Dick science.

Fuck it.

It’s Clone-a-Cock o’clock.

Arching a brow, I shoot my best mock glare at her. “You sure you haven’t had enough?”

“Nuh-uh, Mr. Wolff. You’re not getting out of this one. You promised.”

She bounds off the bed excitedly, pulling me up by the hand, entirely unbothered by her nakedness.

I’m here for it. I love seeing my girl so confident.

So vibrant.

So alive.

Even if technically it wasn’t my dick that gave her those orgasms.

Worse luck.

She tugs me toward the tube we left sitting on the dresser, every step making my dick deflate and hide between my legs, not entirely unlike a dog’s tail when he’s nervous.

Is this a walk of shame?

Can’t say I’ve ever had to do one of those, but this… the humiliation of sticking my cock in some weird tube, praying it doesn’t burn it off or some shit… it seems kinda shameful to me.

Okay, maybe shameful isn’t the right word. I don’t know what word fits. I didn’t know clone-a-cocks were a thing forty-eight hours ago. Now, I’m all sorts of educated, right down to the last tentacle.

Mia opens the tube and folds out the instructions, starting to read them aloud.

This thing reads like mad science, I shit you not. And I’m expected to stick my boner in there for two minutes and stay hard?

What happens if I can’t? I cast a silicone micro penis or some shit? Well, that’d be an unfortunate gift to leave my dream girl.

“Ohhh, we have to wait eight hours for the mold to set and then twenty-four for the silicone to set. I won’t be able to ride your dick until the weekend.” She pouts up at me, that bottom lip begging for my teeth.

“Don’t look so sad. The real one’s not going anywhere, Angel. You already know you can hop on for a ride any time you want.”

She laughs distractedly, eyes glued to the paper in front of her.