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I took it from him and all of the men froze, this time I guessed from me holding a male blow-up doll and imagining all the ludicrous things I might do with it.
As if. Okay,onlyif giving a demonstration.
I took the ring and, holding the doll's very erect penis in one hand, slid the leather strap down. It wasn't a good fit as Mr. Blow Up was pretty darn big. I glanced at the men, who were watching with varying expressions on their faces ranging from lust to horror at how rough I was. My hands weren't gentle. In fact, it was a struggle to accomplish my task.
A loud snap reverberated around the room and the next thing I knew, the cock ring had flung out of my fingers, launchedthrough the air and smacked Jack square in the middle of the forehead, falling with a soft thump into his lap.
I froze in place, mouth agape, my eyes on Jack's lap. All the guys stared, too. Jack was stunned into silence. He, too, looked down.
Oh, shit!Mortification didn't come close to how I felt. Out of all the guys in the room, why did the cock ring have a trajectory right for Jack? Everyone would be laughing right now if it had fallen into Mike's lap. It would have been a quick 'ha-ha' and be over.
But, no. Now I had to look at how Jack filled out his jeans, wondering if he was happy to see me or just naturally large.Verylarge. I gulped. My mind was completely in the gutter. Then I saw the cock ring, the snap reflecting the light of the fireplace, and I imagined Jack's cock wrapped securely in one, ready to slide into me. How it would give him the staying power—not that he probably needed it—to make me have multiple orgasms. My mind flicked back to the thoughts of his head between my thighs, my fingers tugging on his hair to keep him right where I wanted him. Yup, definitely in the gutter.
Heat flooded my cheeks as I walked over to Jack. I reached down to grab the cock ring from his lap, got within an inch of his Superman-sized package when he grabbed my wrist. His blue eyes met mine.
Electricity zinged through his gentle grasp and raised goose bumps on my arms. Holy shit, the look in his eyes was so hot I felt scorched.
He grinned, although that did nothing to subdue the electricity that crackled between us. “Don't rub the lamp if you don't want the genie to come out,” he said, his voice low so only I could hear. I blushed furiously at his meaning. “Maybe later when we don't have an audience.” He waggled his eyebrows ashe handed me the cock ring. I took it, and then quickly yanked my hand back as if I'd been burned. Maybe I had.
I swallowed, stepped away. The silence was broken by roars of laughter, Mike mentioning how Jack might need a cock ring to stay hard long enough to please a woman. Joe joked about the size of Jack's man parts. All kinds of crude, male locker room jokes, but to me, they only directed my thoughts to Jack and his very sexy package.
Taking a moment to get my mind back on the program and off Jack's crotch, I pulled the little plug on the blow-up doll’s air release, the eunuch man deflating with a bigssssssssss.I placed the wilted form onto a wingback chair.
“Mike has kindly offered each of you a personalized gift bag from Goldilocks,” I said, once the men quieted back down. “All you have to do is tell me what your interests are and I'll make up a package. He'll pick them up tomorrow and deliver them.”
“Yeah. I'm sick of hearing all of your sad, sorry sex stories on poker night. No more excuses,” Mike joked from his relaxed position in his recliner.
“So, what would you like?” I asked, glancing at each guy. Arty picked up his beer and kept it near his mouth. Joe clamped his lips tightly together, crossed his arms over his chest. Not everyone wanted their sexual proclivities shared with their buddies. It was one thing to share exaggerated truths of their manliness over a game of poker, it was quite another to tell them they liked their wife to use a strap-on on them.
Jack stood up and went to get another beer from the bar. The ultimate in avoidance. I was slightly relieved by the gesture as I really didn't want to know if he had any weird fetishes. It would so ruin my fantasies, or depending on what they were, only add to them.
“Mike, why don't you go first?” I asked, hoping he wouldn't care if everyone knew what he'd like in his sexual goody bag.Besides, if he didn't tell, then none of his friends would either. In this case, it was practically the host's responsibility to share.
He eyed his friends, took a deep breath and said, “I'm into domestic discipline.”
The room was silent except for the crackling logs in the fire. Jack froze in place halfway back to his seat, Arty choked on a nut he'd pulled from the little bowl on the coffee table. Joe whacked him on the back, his eyes never leaving Mike. Bob just looked confused.
I raised my eyebrows, processing. After about five seconds, I realized I had to say something. No one else was going to. “Domestic discipline. Huh.” I pulled on my earlobe. “I, um...have to say I don't know what that is.” I gave a kind smile to Mike, knowing he'd put himself in the sexual confession limelight.
Mike grinned. “It's when the man is in charge of the home and you discipline your wife by giving her a spanking when she's done wrong.” He leaned back, pulled the lever on the recliner, the foot rest rising up, and took a swig of beer.
The men were quiet for a moment, then started laughing and making more lewd jokes. Jack picked up the paddle from the coffee table and handed it to Mike, smiling. “Here, you'll need this.”
I sat back down on the arm of the chair again, letting the men take verbal jabs at each other. Mike didn't seem to care he was the brunt of all their jokes. I knew Mike, knew he’d never settle down with a meek and submissive wife and that this domestic discipline thing wasn’t his thing. He might like to spank a woman as kink or even go all alpha male on her, but that was it. Why he’d chosen to hide his true wants was beyond me, but I wasn’t going to think on it too hard. But his words had the desired effect. He’d broken the tension of sharing.
“Okay, so I know what kind of bag to make up for Mike.” It was my job not to poke fun of anyone's sexual variations, true ornot. In fact, I was supposed to help them find what they needed to get the job done, so to speak. “Who's next?”
When no one spoke up, probably afraid of feeling like they were back in seventh grade and being picked on because they were different, it was clear the tension was back. “How about this? Why don't you guys get some more to eat while each of you comes up and tells me privately? What you tell me will be kept in confidence.”
The others seemed to relax with that. Mike led the way to the food laid out on the bar. Joe, Arty, Tom, Rob and Colin came one after the other sharing their interests. I could see why they didn't want to share with the group. They definitely had kinky and kooky wants. I took mental notes and promised them each really great gift bags the next day.
Jack came over last. I admired how his biceps stretched the short sleeves of his T-shirt, how his waist tapered to trim hips. I wanted to run my hands up under the front of his shirt, see how hard his abs really were. I had an idea they were of the washboard variety, but I wanted to find out firsthand. Maybe even lick them.
Up close, I could see lines around his eyes I hadn't noticed before. Tension headache? Concussion? He stood near enough for me to breathe in his appealing scent once again. I tried to identify it. It wasn't cologne. That was always so cloying and unappealing and worn by men with lots of chest hair and gold chains showing. This was different. Manly. Woodsy. His beard had grown in even more, the dark stubble making him look rakish and dangerous. I sounded like a romance novelist, but it was true. I wanted to feel how soft it was…between my thighs.
God, I had an obsession with him going down on me.
“Nice party, Miller. I had no idea this is what you did for a living. I was under the strange impression earlier that you werea plumber.” Jack tucked his hands into the front pockets of his jeans, kept his piercing blue eyes fixed on me.
