Jack's Cock

“Dare, obviously,” he said, and I started to ask myself if he had a **** wish. If I had the chance Lea did right now, I probably would've told him to castrate himself, and she didn't seem like she was all that much better disposed to him.

“Get it out,” she said, snapping her fingers.

“You're kidding me,” Jack said, laughing just a little too quietly for it to be believable. I sat up. Oh my God, she's found his weak spot, I thought. He wasn't going to hesitate to do a little line of coke, but that was fine by me. It would give me all the information I needed.

“You're always talking about it. ‘Ohhh, big dick energy, big dick energy.’ Get it out. Let's fucking see it.”

Jack paused. Then he flicked his fingers. “Hey, it's your funeral,” he said. “Not how I thought this was gonna go.” I blinked; what do you mean, he was giving in? That easily? Dread seeped in through the pores of my skin. He got up, pulling his belt from his jeans and dropping it on the chair behind him. There wasn't a sound in the room, not even a mouse's feet skittering across the floor. He undid his pants and let them drop.

Underneath were his boxers. I saw it there, basically just a shadow against the plaid. And I hate to say it, but it was big.

“Oh fuck,” said Lea, unable to stop herself.

He grinned. “Not done yet, babygirl,” he said. Then he dropped his boxers, and there it was. His hair was only lightly trimmed, but it couldn't hide the size of the thing. ‘Trouser snake’ was the only way I could think of to describe it. “What can I say? I'm a shower,” he said. And with that, the image of it pushing into me **** its way into my head. I shuddered. Fuck.

“Something wrong, baby?” Jack asked, taking the shaft in his hand, and I knew he was talking to me.

“Fuck off, Jack,” I muttered.

“I'll do you all a favor and put it away for now,” he said, leaning down to pick up his boxers.