by Lauren Rowe
“Ball Peen Hammer videos?”
“Keane and Maddy didn’t tell you about that? Yeah, Keane and Maddy have a web series called Ball Peen Hammer’s Guide to a Handsome and Happy Life.”
“What?”
“It’s awesome. ‘Maddy Behind the Camera’ shoots videos of Keane talking to his ‘handsome and happy lads in training’ about all kinds of stuff. In the beginning, before Maddy and Keane were an item, Keane talked mostly about how to pick up women and have phenomenal sex. These days, though, now that Keane is no longer a stripper and Maddy owns his heart, Keane talks about whatever’s going on in his life. Peenie thought when he stopped talking about picking up chicks in his videos, he’d lose his audience. But he couldn’t have been more wrong. Their audience just keeps growing.”
“Well, this I gotta see. Cue one of those bad boys up for me.”
“I’ll show you the very first one.”
I play the video on YouTube and Aloha watches in amusement as Keane explains his one-of-a-kind Ten Year Rule.
When the video ends, Aloha gushes about it for a while and then asks, “Why was his hair blue?”
I tell Aloha the story, which, in summary, is that Keane dyed his hair blue to help me impress Daphne the first night I met her in a bar.
“Did Daphne wind up dyeing her hair blue after seeing the color on Keane?”
“No. After she saw the color on Keane, she decided to go with blonde highlights, instead.”
“Bitch! And you actually liked this girl? Dude!” She swats my shoulder. “Stop talking about stupid, blonde, ‘mysterious’ and ‘luminous’ Daphne all the time. You’re making my ears bleed.”
“You’re the one who asked me—”
“Just show me another BPH video. I can’t get enough.”
I cue a second BPH video, and then three more. And all of them make Aloha laugh that sexy belly laugh of hers—the one I live to hear. Finally, we watch the BPH video in which I shaved down his blue hair to a blonde buzz cut—the clip we shot in our bathroom in Seattle just before Keane flew to LA to get his adorable girl.
“Aw, you and Keane are the cutest bromance ever,” Aloha says when the latest video ends. “Would it be okay if I tweeted this one to my Aloha-nators?”
“Oh my God. How many followers do you have?”
“Eighty-two million, give or take.”
“Aloha, that would be huge for Keane. Thank you so much.”
“You said he’s trying to break into modeling and acting. Maybe it will give him a little buzz.”
She opens Twitter and writes the following message:
Hey, Aloha-nators! Check out actor/model & life coach Keane Morgan aka Ball Peen Hammer! This clip features BPH and his bestie—my beloved Zander. Show BPH some love, guys! He’s a star on the rise! Swoon!
“What’s your twitter handle, babe?” she asks.
“I’m not on Twitter.”
“What? Caveman.” She quickly inserts the video link, tags Keane and her casting director on the tweet, and posts it. “There. Hopefully, that little tweet will open some doors for our aspiring little Peenie Baby.”
“Wow. Thank you so much, Aloha. Keane’s gonna shit his pants.”
“I’m happy to do it. No shat-upon pants required. Honestly, the tweet was as much for me as Keane.” She snickers. “The Twitterverse will pounce on the fact that I called you my ‘beloved.’ By the time we land, they’ll be convinced we’re secretly engaged or I’m pregnant with your love child. Triple bonus points if Daphne sees the tweet, right? Bitch.” Aloha slides her hand in mine, a huge smile on her face. “Alexa, play me some more Ball Peen Hammer videos.”
“I’m Alexa?”
“Of course.”
We watch several more clips and marvel together at Keane’s unique Peenie-ness... until, finally, a video entitled “The Sure Thing” pops up on Aloha’s laptop screen as the next video in the automatic queue.
“Uh, let’s skip this one,” I say hastily, reaching for the keyboard.
Aloha slaps the top of my hand. “I wanna see it. Captain mentioned ‘The Sure Thing’ in his text to you after the ‘boy toy’ video. He said he assumed you’d performed it on me.”
I open and close my mouth. Shit.
“Is it a sexual position?” she asks.
“I don’t think we should watch this one.”
“Why not? Does Keane do something pornographic in it?”
“No, he just talks, same as usual.”
“Then lighten up.” She scrutinizes my face, smirking. “Oh my God. What the hell is this Sure Thing? It’s something really dirty, isn’t it?”
My face is hot. “No. It’s just a technique.” I clear my throat. “A sexual technique.”
“Oh, holy hell, now I’ve absolutely got to see this video.”
She’s quick, but I’m quicker.
“Dude!” she blurts when I tilt her computer away from her extended hand. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
“Your future self will thank me.”
“And my present self is about to bitch-slap you. Turn on the freaking video, Mr. Bodyguard. That’s an order.”
“Aloha, listen to me. If ever... someone were to perform this technique on you... at some point in the future... then you wouldn’t enjoy it nearly as much if you’d watched this video or heard about how the technique is performed in advance. It works best when the woman doesn’t know what’s coming. When she can get out of her head and let go and feel.”
Oh, man. If I thought that explanation would dissuade Aloha from wanting to watch the video, I was sorely mistaken. Her green eyes are on fire. “Tell me every little thing about it right now or I’m gonna push you out of the airplane. My future self will be shit outta luck.”
I pause.
“Decide, Zander. Would you rather be the one to tell me about this sexual technique, or have Keane do it when I’m alone in my bed tonight, watching the video over and over again with my hand inside my panties? The choice is yours.”
Holy fucking shit. My cock pulsing, I clear my throat. “It’s a, uh, fingering technique. For bringing women to orgasm.” I clear my throat again. “And not just any orgasm—an all-body one, which is way more powerful and pleasurable than a simple clitoral orgasm.” I take a deep breath. “The technique usually gets women off more than once in a relatively short amount of time. What we boys call a ‘sesh.’”
Aloha’s eyes are blazing. “This technique gives women multiple orgasms?”
“Yes. Each one better than the last. All of them vaginal orgasms, not clitoral.”
Aloha looks beyond titillated. “And you know how to do this to women?”
My dick is thickening underneath the opened tray table above my lap. “Yes.”
“But, I mean, have you performed this technique personally or do you simply know how to do it, in theory?”
“I’ve done it. Many times. And very, very successfully.”
Aloha’s chest heaves sharply like I just slid a finger inside her. “And it’s called ‘the sure thing’ because... it works every time?”
My dick has now hardened to full mast. “Yes. It’s pretty much a slam dunk.”
Aloha leans forward and whispers, “But what if a woman isn’t all that, you know, good at getting off with a partner?”
Oh, Jesus. If I keep talking, there’s only one place this conversation will end up: with Aloha asking me to do the technique to her. And that’s something I simply can’t do. I press my lips together.
“Tell me, Z,” Aloha purrs, her green eyes aflame. “What if a woman has never had an orgasm with a partner?”
I take a deep breath. “From my experience, it works on anyone, as long as certain preconditions are met. I’ve done it to a woman who’d never had an orgasm before, not even on her own. And she had three orgasms in a row, each one stronger than the last. She said it was the best night of her life. One of the best of mine, too.”
Aloha’s chest heaves again. “Three orgasms in what span
of time?”
“That particular woman took thirty minutes. That’s pretty long. The amount of time it takes varies, depending on the woman. And just to be clear, three Os isn’t a guarantee. I can guarantee one. Two is almost always a slam dunk. Three Os happen like seventy-five percent of the time. Beyond that, it’s a crap shoot. With the right woman and under the right circumstances, I can get a woman doing her multiplication tables for me about twenty-five percent of the time, I’d say.”
Aloha looks like she’s on the verge of coming right now. “How many Os is ‘doing her multiplication tables’ and what are the ‘right circumstances’?”
I don’t know when it happened, but I suddenly realize I’m holding Aloha’s hand and gently rubbing the top of hers with my thumb. “There has to be insane chemistry between the woman and me. Not garden variety. She needs to be relaxed and not too hung up about sex in general. I need to get her ridiculously turned on before going for The Sure Thing—usually by eating her out beforehand. If all that’s working for me really well, then I can definitely get three. Maybe even four or five. Five is the most I’ve ever gotten. It’s not easy to get. It’s a workout for the woman, you know? By two, she’s dripping in sweat. Plus, I don’t have the willpower to make it past five. But a couple of the Morgan boys have gotten as many as seven in a sesh. I honestly don’t know how that’s possible, but they’d never lie about it. But, still, five Os is no small thing, either for me or the woman.”
“You don’t have the willpower...?”
“Not to fuck her. By three, most women are so turned on, they start...” I look around, making sure nobody’s eavesdropping on us. “Speaking in tongues. That’s the only way to describe it. Women come completely undone at three and start begging me like their life depends on it. And that turns me on so much, I usually can’t...” I take a gigantic breath. I’d bet anything my cock is dripping with arousal by now. I clear my throat. “I usually can’t hold on any longer. I’m going in.”
“You mean they start begging for...?”
I look around again, my heart racing. “Yeah. My cock.”
Aloha’s lips part with arousal.
I’m fully aware I’m being very bad right now. Very, very bad. But, fuck it, I wouldn’t have missed the chance to see Aloha’s face like this for anything. It’s like she’s having a little orgasm right here and now. I continue, “Once I get a woman to three Os before fucking her, then I know I’ve got a great chance of getting her to four once I get inside her. Because when a woman is that turned on, she almost always comes again when I get inside her. And, God, Aloha, that’s the brass ring. It’s the best feeling in the world, having a woman come around my cock. And I’m told it’s the best feeling for her, too—coming while being filled all the way up. As far as I’m concerned, it’s the closest thing to seeing God two people can experience.”
A little puff of warm air escapes Aloha’s pouty, perfect mouth, followed by the faintest of moans. She shifts in her seat. “What would happen if you didn’t give her...” She looks around and then whispers, “Your cock, right away? What would happen if you tried for another O with your fingers before fucking her, even after she starts begging you?”
“I don’t know.” I chuckle. “When a woman is speaking in tongues and begging me for my cock, I’m gonna give her my fucking cock.”
Oh my shit. By the look on Aloha’s face now, I know for a fact that if I slid my fingers inside her sweet little pussy, she’d be wet and swollen and ready to go off like a rocket in under a minute. I shift in my seat, trying to relieve the pressure on my hard-on, but it’s no use.
Aloha whispers, “And all the Morgans know about this technique, the same as you?”
“All of ’em. The two oldest brothers came up with it in the first place. I mean, not together.” I laugh. “Ryan figured it out first. He told Colby and Colby worked out a better mousetrap, so to speak. The two of them exchanged notes over time. And then, when they had it working like clockwork, they told the three of us younger guys—me, Keane, and Dax. Plus, they told us about a whole lotta other stuff we needed to know, too. Thanks to them, when the three younger guys started having sex, we were all lightyears ahead of the curve. Nowadays, things have evened out as far as teachers and students. We’re all pretty much killing it now. If someone figures a new thing out, he’ll tell the group, but we don’t need to trade info as much as we used to do, since we’re all pretty much cooking with gas by now. Our credo is: if you’re not getting your woman off hard and multiple times in a sesh, then you’re failing at fucking.”
“How is this out there and nobody’s ever done it to me?”
“Most guys don’t know about it. And if they do, they can’t master it. It’s not some kind of easy on-off button. It’s a full-blown technique. A guy needs to have the right touch. A bit of finesse. Plus, like I said before, the woman’s got to be super turned on beforehand and most guys have no idea how to accomplish even that.”
Aloha visibly shudders like I’ve just stroked her throbbing clit. And that’s all it takes for a little growl to escape my mouth. I fake a cough and put my hand over my mouth. Shit. I’ve got to stop this right now. I’ve crossed a line and I gotta get my ass back over to the other side of the line right fucking now.
“Zander, “ Aloha whispers, her voice laced with arousal.
I wait. Here it comes. She’s gonna ask me to do it to her. And what will I say? I’d have to say no, right? Although I suppose I could show her how it works, just so she can experience an orgasm with a partner for the first time. Just to show her what her body can do... Not to get my own rocks off, but as a sort of community service type thing...
But Aloha doesn’t ask me to do it. On the contrary, she sits back in her seat, shoots me a naughty smile, and says, “I’m tempted to ask you to do it to me, to be honest. But since you promised Barry I’m off-limits—and you’re still hung up on the amazing girl who gave you the best four months of your life—I’ll restrain myself and continue to respect your stated boundaries.” She cocks her perfect eyebrow, a demonic gleam in her emerald eyes. “Maybe someday I’ll find a guy to do it to me. Who knows? And if I do, hopefully, he’ll do it half as well as you would have done.” She pats her mouth like she’s yawning. “I think I’ll take a nap now, Shaggy Swaggy. If I start moaning in my sleep like I’m having an orgasm, just leave me be. Obviously, I’ll be dreaming about you doing The Sure Thing to me.” With that, she shuts her laptop, pats my hand, and closes her eyes.
Chapter 24
Zander
Aloha styled me with that tweet, brah,” Keane says on my phone screen. “I picked up over four million followers practically overnight!”
“That’s so awesome, Peenie.”
“Couldn’t be better timing, too. I’ve got a huge audition tomorrow and my agent said casting directors love to see a ‘robust’ social media following. Thank her again for me, okay? Tell her if I get the part, I’ll name my first born ‘Haha’ after her.”
“Haha Morgan,” I say. “That’s actually the perfect name for a child of yours, Peen.”
I’m sitting on my hotel bed in Boise in swim trunks, catching up with Peenie on FaceTime after a long but awesome day with The Package. As usual, Aloha was unstoppable today. Early this morning, she went to a pancake breakfast to raise money for a local animal shelter. After that, she swung by a children’s hospital to visit kids with cancer—the same thing she did in San Diego, Phoenix, and Salt Lake City. After that, the force of nature that is Aloha Carmichael did a couple radio interviews, met with her costume designer regarding some beaded corset-thing she’ll be wearing for her awards show performance in Las Vegas next month, and then it was off to the arena for what’s become the standard show-day routine.
And now that the show is over and we’re back at the hotel, Aloha is still going like the Energizer Bunny she is, even after the crazy day she’s had. At this very moment, Aloha’s in her hotel room getting into her bathing suit so she can head down to the hotel
pool for a midnight swim with her dancers and band. So I’m sneaking in a FaceTime chat with Keane while I wait for her to text me to come get her.
“So, let’s cut to the chase, baby doll,” Keane says. “You in love with her yet or not?”
“Not.”
He sighs. “The one-monthers are going ballistic on me, you know. Especially Ryan and Kat. At this point, they think I’m covering for you.” He looks into the camera sideways. “Am I unwittingly covering for you, just because I’m blinded by my deep and abiding love for you?”
“Nope. Aloha and I are still just friends and that’s how we’ll remain throughout the entire tour, just like I said from the start. She’s off-limits, remember?”
“Fuck Barry and his OL des. Aloha gets to say who fucks her and nobody else.”
“That’s exactly what Aloha said.”
Keane’s eyes widen. “Well, this is a new morsel of intel. Aloha said she’s not off-limits to you?”
Crap. How did I let that slip out? “I didn’t tell you that?”
“No! And it’s a glaring omission! Why would Aloha say that to you, unless she’s telling you she wants to fuck you?”
“Aloha was just saying Barry doesn’t have a say about her sex life in general, not in relation to me.”
“So your sworn testimony before this court is that you two haven’t talked about the two of you bonin’ down?”
“We have not. We’ve talked about sex in general only.”
“Why do I get the feeling you’re dancing between raindrops here, Z?”
“I’m not. All that happened is I showed her some Ball Peen Hammer videos the other day—the day she tweeted about you—and then wound up telling her about The Sure Thing.”
Keane palms his forehead. “Oh, for the love of fuck. That’s the oldest trick in the book, telling a girl about The Sure Thing. I pulled that exact maneuver on Maddy and look where it got me.”
“It wasn’t like that.”
“Lemme guess: she asked you to do it to her.”
“Actually, no. She said she wanted to ask me to do it, but she ‘respected my stated boundaries’ too much. And then she closed her eyes and took a nap.”