Page 105 of Thug

I’d managed to fit two inches of it in my mouth. Maybe. An inch and a half, if someone had a ruler. Great by no one’s means of measure but my own.

Frustrated, I drew a deep breath said a prayer to the dick sucking gods. Driven by a desire to succeed, I opened my mouth until my jaw popped loudly. Convinced I’d dislodged whatever had prevented me from being the reigning champion of deepthroat, I attacked his swollen dick like Joey Chestnut devoured Nathan’s foot-longs on the Fourth of July hot dog eating contest.

The tip of his dick touched the back of my tongue. A laryngeal spasm of epic proportion caused my stomach to convulse. The Previous night’s shukshura rose in my throat. Tasting it the second time caused my stomach to convulse, repeatedly.

I had two options.

Puke on price’s cock or run for the bathroom and pray I got there in time.

I tossed the blanket off my head and leaped from the edge of the bed, making no consideration for the hostages or the sleeping Mister McNealy. Spooked, the cats took off like a shot, squealing a high-pitched wail like their tails had been slammed in a door.

Price lurched from his sleeping position. Wide-eyed, he searched the room. “What the fuck’s going on?”

I couldn’t respond. A nanosecond of eye contact while I sprinted to the bathroom would have to suffice.

Hugging the toilet, I dry heaved until my stomach stopped rejecting the idea of my mouth having a dick in it. Mildly relieved that I didn’t have to restart my “I haven’t puked since fifth grade” clock, I brushed my teeth.

With my shoulders slumped and my ego trailing on the floor behind me, I shuffled to the bed and climbed beneath the covers.

“Sorry about that,” I muttered.

He gave me a funny look. “What was that about?”

“I had to pee.”

“God damn,” he said. “That came on quick, huh?”

I pressed the back of my head deep into the pillow. “Yeah.”

He rubbed his eyes. “Were you sucking my cock? Right before you had to pee?”

My actions couldn’t be labeled as dick sucking by anyone with knowledge on the subject. It was more along the lines of tasting one of the odd colored suckers at the bank, only to realize the flavor wasn’t palatable.

“Not really,” I muttered. “Licking was more like it.”

Still rubbing one eye, he lowered his hand and gave me a funny look. “Why were you licking my cock?”

“Because the opportunity presented itself. You were asleep.”

His gaze narrowed in opposition. “Wouldn’t it be better if you waited until I was awake?”

I sighed. “No.”

“Why not?”

“When you’re asleep you can’t complain.”

He looked at me like I was nuts. “Why would I complain about a blowjob?”

“I suck at sucking dick. I lied. I didn’t have to pee. I ran to the bathroom, so I didn’t puke on your dick.” I covered my face with my hands. “I can’t swallow an Extra Strength Tylenol without puking.”

He laughed. “Why torture yourself?”

I parted my hands enough to respond. “With what?”

“Trying?” he asked. “If it makes you puke, why try?”

I wedged my hands beneath my thighs. “Because, guys like having their dicks sucked. I want to be well-rounded. Sexually well-rounded.”