Who Let the Cocks Out

Who Let the Cocks Out

Marcus had been dragging his feet through the mall for forty minutes, enduring Jessica's enthusiastic tour of every home goods store she could find. She was hunting for the perfect throw pillow or some nonsense, and he was three complaints away from sitting on that sad bench outside the pretzel place.

"One more store," she promised, already pulling him toward a shop he'd never noticed before. The sign read Exposition, and the window display was a chaotic explosion of gag gifts, weird plushies, and things that probably shouldn't be sold.

Jessica disappeared into the aisles of fart machines and fake dog poop. Marcus wandered toward the back, where the "adult" section began—separated from the main floor by a beaded curtain that did absolutely nothing to hide what was back there.

That's when he saw it.

A cardboard cutout of a leprechaun, about three feet tall, with a perfectly circular hole cut right where the little green pants would strain against a pot of gold. A small handwritten sign leaned against it: "WHO LET THE COCKS OUT - $29.99." The box showed a man grinning, his cock protruding from the cartoon leprechaun's crotch and a cute woman next to him looking surprised and horny.

His heart hammered against his ribs. The stupid, reckless idea formed fully formed, irresistible as gravity.

He grabbed the cutout and ducked behind the shelving unit, into the narrow space between the back wall and the emergency exit. His fingers fumbled with his belt. The cardboard was flimsy, the hole perfectly sized. He threaded himself through, the cool edge of the cardboard against his heated skin, and waited.

"Marcus? Did you wander into the—" Jessica pushed through the beads, scanning the aisle. Her eyes landed on the leprechaun standing inexplicably alone in the back corner, and she laughed. "What are you doing with that? Planning to ruin someone's St. Patrick's Day?"

The leprechaun wiggled slightly.

Jessica took two steps closer, her smile fading into curiosity. Then she saw it—thick and veined and very much real, jutting through the hole where cartoon genitalia should be. Her mouth opened, closed. She looked toward the front of the store, then back at him.

"You're insane," she whispered. But she didn't look away.

"Who let the cocks out?" Marcus's voice came muffled from behind the cardboard. "Apparently I did."

She should have walked away. Should have called him an idiot and dragged him out of there. Instead, she took another step. Her hand reached out, tentative, and her fingertips brushed the underside. Marcus sucked in a sharp breath, his hips jerking involuntarily.

"Jess—" he started.

"Shut up." Her voice had gone husky, dangerous. "You're the one who pulled it out in public."

She sank to her knees on the thin carpet, her sundress pooling around her thighs. Her hand wrapped around the base, steadying him, and when her lips first touched the tip, Marcus had to bite his own fist to keep from groaning loud enough to summon security.

She took him deeper, her tongue flattening against the underside, the wet heat of her mouth a shocking contrast to the air-conditioned store. The leprechaun's painted smile seemed to watch from above as Jessica worked him with lips and tongue and the occasional scrape of teeth, her hand pumping what she couldn't fit.

Marcus gripped the edges of the cardboard, knuckles white, thrusting slightly into her willing mouth. The absurdity of it—their friend group would never believe this, the risk of being caught, the ridiculous leprechaun grinning between his legs—made it sharper, more electric.

"Jess, I'm—" he warned, hips stuttering.

She didn't pull back. She doubled down, hollowing her cheeks, her eyes flicking up to meet his gaze through the hole in the cardboard. That was it. Marcus shuddered, biting back a strangled sound as he spilled into her mouth, his legs trembling against the flimsy cutout.

She stood slowly, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, her cheeks flushed pink. The leprechaun wobbled as Marcus extracted himself, fumbling his clothes back together with shaking hands.

"So," Jessica said, her voice too loud, then dropping to a whisper. "Are you buying that thing, or what?"

Marcus looked at the violated leprechaun, then at her. "Pretty sure I got my money's worth of the experience."

They left the cutout propped against the back wall and walked out past the cashier, who never looked up from her phone. In the food court, Jessica stole one of his fries and said, "Next time, I pick the character."

Marcus nearly choked on his drink. "Next time?"

She just smiled, ketchup on her lip, and took another fry.