“Thank you.”
“Two things for future reference.” He draped his arm over my shoulder. “One, Jo’s of the opinion that her butt ain’t big, so don’t ever say it is. And, two, I’m ready for grandkids whenever you are.”
35
Jo
Whistling a song that I recognized but couldn’t name, Jenny walked into the store in a particularly cheery mood.
“Did you have a good weekend?” I asked.
She smiled. “I did.”
I gestured toward her cut-offs. They were short enough that much more of her extremities were out than in. “I like the shorts, are they new?”
“They are.”
She was wearing a white tee shirt with the album cover of Jamey Johnson’s first album on it. I hadn’t seen her wear it before.
“And the shirt?” I asked.
She pulled the hem away from her waist, straightening the fabric of the shirt for me to see. “New shirt, and....” She hiked her leg high in the air and pulled the crotch of her shorts to the side, revealing a pink patch of lace. “New panties, too.”
“I’m guessing you went shopping?”
“That, and a bunch of other things.”
“What’s the song you were whistling?” I asked.
“The Andy Griffith Show.”
“How’d you get that stuck in your head?”
“Shawn and I binge-watched about fifty episodes of it. Life was simple back then. You know it?”
Despite my desire to watch other things, I’d seen enough episodes of the show as a child to know what she was talking about.
“It’s not simple now, that’s for sure.”
“Have you watched it?” she asked.
“I’ve seen it,” I said. “With my dad when I was little. I never really paid attention to it, though.”
“It’s pretty cool. Each show has a lesson. In one of them, the little boy got a slingshot. He told Barney that he was going to use it to shoot tin cans. He ended up shooting it up in a tree and killing a bird. His dad made him take care of the three baby birds that were orphaned when he killed their mother. So, he took care of them until they could fly on their own. Then, he set them free. There’s a crap-load of lessons to be learned from that one episode alone.”
I really didn’t care to discuss the Andy Griffith Show. I turned toward a box of books I was unpacking. “Sounds like you guys had fun.”
“I like hanging out with him.” She reached for one of the books. “So, what did you do this weekend?”
If she spent all weekend with Shawn watching TV, I found it odd that he hadn’t told her what happened. I wondered if she knew but was acting as if she didn’t.
“Broke up with Tyson,” I said.
Her eyes shot wide. “What?”
“I broke up with him Saturday night.”
“Ho-Lee-Shit,” she gasped. “What happened?”
I wanted to explain the event as it unfolded and see what she thought of my reaction. Convinced I’d overreacted, but not sure to what degree I’d done so, I wanted her unbiased opinion.
“I found an old yearbook of his,” I explained. “While I was flipping through it I found out there was a teacher that he was sweet on. A teacher that looked exactly like me.”
“The librarian?” she asked.
“What?” I screeched. “You knew?”
“Knew what? That they had a smokin’ hot librarian when they were in school? Yeah, Shawn showed me a picture of her. Sorry, go back to your story, I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“That was my story.”
“What was your story?”
I was afraid I already had the answer to my question. “I found that picture, and a passage in his yearbook that said, ‘If you get her to suck your dick with those DSLs, let me know’, or something like that. I got mad and stomped out of his house.”
She scrunched her nose. “We smoked a lot of pot this weekend, I’m sorry. Did I miss something? Tell me you didn’t leave him over one of his high school buddies making a comment about that hot librarian sucking his dick.”
I stared back at her, expressionless.
“You didn’t, did you?”
I shrugged one shoulder.
“Jesus, Jo. Really?”
I felt like such an inexperienced fool. I’d never been in an actual relationship. At the time, it seemed like a natural reaction to the situation. After I had time to think about it, however, it seemed a little harsh.
I nodded.
“Overreact much?” she asked, her tone thick with sarcasm.
“I did, didn’t I?”
“I’m thinking so,” she said. “Not that it really matters, but did he get a BJ from the her? Did he say?”
“He did say. He didn’t.”
She blew out a slow, exaggerated breath. “Uhhm. Yeah, I’d say you overreacted. Like. Yeah.”
I needed to redeem myself. For her to at least agree with part of why I got angry. “What about the guy saying Tyson should get her to wrap her DSLs around his dick, or whatever?”
“Did you see that chick’s lips?” she asked. “If I had a dick, I’d have spent all my spare time during the summer trying to get her to suck it, I can tell you that much.” She shook her head. “You’ve got to tell him you overreacted. That you’re sorry. He was in high school, for Christ’s sake. That was like, what? Twenty years ago?”
“Eighteen.”
“You can’t let that get between you guys,” she said, still shaking her head in disbelief. “I’m sorry, but that’s just kind of ridiculous. In a book, something like that might cause a breakup, but not in real life. Just tell him you overreacted.”
“I already did.”
“You already did what?”
“I already told him I overreacted.”
“Is he still mad?”
“No. He came over to my parent’s house yesterday and apologized.”
“For what?” She laughed. “Being a horny teenager?”
Instead of redeeming myself, I was being ridiculed. My lack of relationship experience was showing, and I didn’t like it.
“For not being truthful with me from the beginning.” I forced a long sigh. “I’m an idiot, aren’t I?”
“Not an idiot.” She chuckled. “Maybe a little bit of a psycho, but not an idiot.”
I’d rather be an idiot than a psycho. I regretted saying anything about anything. To anybody. Jenny included. “A psycho? Why do you say that?”
“If you’ve got to ask, that just makes you more psycho.”
“Well, if it makes you happy, I apologized, too.”
“That’s good.” She tugged at the nonexistent hem of her shorts “You should give him a big sloppy BJ. Maybe he’ll forgive you.”
I’d redeemed myself with Tyson. I was determined to do the same with Jenny, come hell or high water. I expected revealing my lack of relationship experience should suffice.
“He’s only the second guy I’ve ever had sex with,” I admitted.
“I’m sorry.” She raised her cupped right hand to her ear. “I thought you just said you were two dicks away from being a virgin.”
“That’s what I said.”
She lowered her hand and gave me a look. “You’re kidding, right?”
“I wish I was.”
She looked me over as if she didn’t know me. “Are you seriously being serious right now?”
“Totally.”
“Ho-Lee-Shit.” She put her hands on her hips and looked me up and down. “It’s no wonder you reacted like you did. You’re basically a thirteen-year-old.”
I was getting vindication for my reaction, but it was embarrassing as hell.
“The first guy was at my cousin’s wedding,” I said. “I was eighteen.”
“Wait. How old are you now?”
“Twenty-nine.”
Her eyes bulged. “You went eleven years without sex?”
“Roughly.”
She tugged against the hem of her shorts
. “These things feel like they’re eating my twat.” After getting them situated to a point that she at least appeared to be comfortable again, she let out a soft sigh. “Guys can’t wait for sex like that. They need sexual maintenance. Just like regular oil changes in your car.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“They have urges. Constant urges. Itches that need scratched. They’re much different than we are. There are things you need to do, whether they ask for it, or not.”
I wanted sex all the time. I couldn’t imagine anyone having a greater desire. If a man’s chemical makeup was such that he had sexual itches that needed scratched, I needed to know about it. Having my relationship with Tyson collapse due to me not maintaining it, it would crush me.
“You know this for a fact?”
“Listen. I had two dicks in me by the time I was thirteen. I’m ten years ahead of you.” She arched an eyebrow. “It’s regular maintenance, and yes, it’s fact.”
I’d entertain any advice that allowed me to glide through a life with Tyson without turmoil. “Okay. What do I need to do?”
“I’ll do my best to explain it,” she said. “Imagine your clit being, I dunno, like the size of a bratwurst. Everywhere you go, the thing is swinging around in your pants, banging against your leg, falling out of your shorts, stuff like that.”
I laughed. “Okay.”
“It’s got, who knows, something like ten million more pleasure receptors in it, because it’s so freakin’ big. So, when you touch it, it sends a bajillion happy signals to your brain in an instant. When a guy sucks on it you go completely bonkers. Ape shit, or whatever. Your eyes roll back in your head, and all you can think about is him sucking it again. In fact, you’re infatuated with it.”
I stared blankly at her.
“You’ve had your clit sucked, right?”
“Uhhm.” I shook my head. “No.”
She wagged her index finger toward my purse. “Write it down. Make it first on the list. You’ve got to get him to do that.”
I chuckled. “Where are you going with this story?”
“I’m almost there.”
“Okay.”
“So, if you had that big bratwurst clit, all you’d be able to think about would be sex, right? Especially having a dude suck your clit.”
“I can’t imagine a bratwurst clit. All I think about is sex, and mine’s the size of my pinky finger.”
“Pinky finger!?” Her eyes narrowed. “Mine’s so small a guy needs a microscope and a map to find it.”
“A road map?” I laughed. “That sucks. Mine’s not really that big, it just seems like it is. It’s definitely not hard to find.”
“Tell me about it.” She tugged the hem of her shorts and then shook her right leg as if she expected something to fall out of it. “Anyway. If you’ve got the sausage-clit, you’d be about even with a dude. They’ve got two pounds of dick swinging between their legs twenty-four-seven. Each time they see it, it’s a constant dangling reminder that they’re not fucking someone. Every hour of every day, they’re trying to devise a way to get that thing busy. The easiest way to do it is to stick it in someone’s mouth. I guess what I’m trying to say is that you can’t blame Tyson for having thoughts about poking his dick in that sexy librarian’s mouth. Or for the other guy mentioning it. It’s all they think about. Have him suck your pinkie-sized clit, and you’ll know what I mean.”
I knew guys enjoyed blowjobs, but I had no idea just how much they liked them. I mentally added getting Tyson to suck my clit to our evening’s activities, just so I’d be privy to the information.
I gave a nod. “Okay. I’ll see if he will do it tonight.”
“Good. And, another thing.” She chuckled. “You’ve gotta give it up more than once every eleven years.”
I laughed. “I know.”
“Remember. He’s got a constant reminder dangling between his legs. If he doesn’t get it from you, he’ll get it somewhere else.”
I didn’t plan on making Tyson wait any longer for sex than it took for me to get undressed when I got home at night. Nonetheless, I was fascinated. “What happens if he doesn’t?”
“His balls will turn blue.”
“I’ve heard of that. Blue Balls.”
“Precisely,” she said. “When it happens, they’ve got to go to the hospital and get a nurse to extract it.”
“Extract what?”
“The cum.”
“Why don’t they just.” I made the jerking motion with my hand. “You know.”
“Too painful.”
“Wouldn’t it be just as painful if a nurse did it?”
“They sedate the guys before they do it. They probably get the interns to actually do the whacking.” She chuckled. “How’d you like that job? Whack off nurse?”
I shrugged. “I’ve never done it.”
“You’ve never whacked a dude off?”
“Nope. I’ve pretty much done everything else, though.”
“Everything except for having a guy suck your clit and giving a hand-job.” She gestured to my purse. “Hand-job. Put that on the list, too.”
I grinned. “Okay.”
“Hand-jobs are awesome, because you’re in charge, and you can see your successes. It’s not very often that you can be sure that you’ve pleased a man.”
“Tyson has an orgasm every time we have sex,” I bragged.
“That doesn’t mean that you pleased him,” she argued. “He might have pleased himself, and you were just the tool he used to do it. The only way to know if you please a man is to give him a handy.”
“That’s the only way?”
“He can fuck your pussy, and he can fuck your mouth, but you drive the hand-job, one hundred percent. It’s the only way to know.”
I’d never looked at it that way. It made perfect sense. “That makes sense.”
“With a hand-job, you know you’re in complete charge. If you can make a guy come with a handy, you’re set. It’s a good thing to fall back on from time to time. It builds self-esteem, too. Nothing’s more satisfying than watching cum shoot out of the tip of a guy’s dick.”
“Thanks for all the help,” I said. “I’ll watch some hand-job videos this afternoon.”
“It’s the least I can do,” she curtsied. “I was like you once. When I was twelve.”
I was grateful that I had a wealth of sexual knowledge to spend my days with, even if she did occupy her idle time smoking pot and watching Andy Griffith.
“She actually believes the crap she tells you?” Tyson reached into the refrigerator and grabbed a bottle of beer. “That’s the most ridiculous shit I’ve ever heard in my life.”
I wondered if it was truly ridiculous, or if he was afraid to tell me that I’d learned the sexual secrets of what made men tick. “Nobody goes to the doctor and gets the pressure relieved?”
He tossed the lid to his beer bottle in the trash. “Nope.”
“Ever?”
He shook his head. “Nope.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I have a dick.”
We sat down across from each other at the kitchen table. “Maybe you haven’t had a massive buildup,” I suggested. “How long is the longest you’ve gone without, you know, having an orgasm or whatever?”
“Forty-eight hours.” He sipped his beer. “Maybe less. Definitely not more than two days.”
I wasn’t surprised. Before I met Tyson, I masturbated a few times a week, unless I was distracted by work. It seemed reasonable to think men would be the same way.
I gestured toward his crotch with my eyes. “Maybe if you went a few weeks without any relief, you’d bulk up down there.”
“I’m not willing to find out.” He took a long drink of his beer and then set the bottle aside. “What else did she tell you? Sperm’s got protein in it?”
“Does it?” I asked excitedly.
He shook his head. “Nope.”
Saddened I wasn’t going to enhance
my daily protein intake from sucking Tyson’s dick, I lowered my head. Midway through my session of sulking, I remembered Jenny’s recommendation.
“Oh,” I blurted. “She said I need to get you to suck my clit. That way I’ll have a good idea of what it’s like to have a dick.”
“How will having me suck your clit…” He shook his head. “She’s insane.”
Saddened that he’d let the air out of my clit-sucking sail, I slumped in my seat.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Nothing.” A sigh escaped me, and I tried to pass it off as a yawn. “I’m fine.”
“Seriously? I don’t want to get in another tiff about something. About anything. Let’s keep everything out in the open. You’re not going to get in trouble with me for talking about anything. Spill it, Jo.”
I took a breath and then fixed my eyes on his fruit-filled blown glass centerpiece. “I really wanted to find out about the clit-sucking. She said it was a must. I’ve been excited about it all day.”
“That’s what you’re upset about?” He laughed. “Hell, I’ll suck your clit until your eyes pop out. But that doesn’t mean you’re going to walk away with the knowledge of what it’s like to have a dick. What does one have to do with the other?”
“Sensory receptors or something,” I responded. “She said your dick has a million of ‘em, and that’s why guys like blowjobs so much. She said if a girl gets her clit sucked, she’ll understand why guys have got to have sex all the time. It’s like getting your oil changed in your car.”
He fixed his eyes on mine, then slow-blinked. Repeatedly. “I’m not.” He shook his head. “I’m not even going to comment.”
“So, it’s true?”
“If she said it,” he said with a laugh. “It must be.”
The thought of his mouth on my clit had me squirming in my seat like an antsy eight-year-old on Christmas Eve. “When do you want to do it?”
He downed his beer in one gulp. After raking his fingers through his hair, he met my gaze. “How about now?”
I smiled. “Now works for me.”
His eager response sent blood rushing to my nether regions. I looked around the room. “Just tell me where you want me.”
The Fed Sex Man: Hot Contemporary Romance Page 22