Page 7 of Reality Girl, Ep. 3

I was fascinated by it from the first day I saw the bulge in his bio pics. A little peek wouldn’t hurt anyone. Hell, any girl would do the same. I didn’t want sex; a passing glance would suffice.

I wanted to taste his big dick with my eyes.

It would be enough to lull me into a sexual slumber sufficient to satisfy me for the upcoming weeks. By not touching it, I would be loyal to Franky, which would allow me to preserve our awkward non-relationship.

“Boxers don’t provide support?” I shot him a confused look, and then placed my hand on his thigh. “Support for what?”

“You know.” He took a quick drink of his beer, and then twisted his mouth to the side. His gaze dipped toward his package. “Guy stuff.”

With my eyes fixed on his, I slipped my hand up his thigh a few inches and scooted my chair a little closer to his. I was determined to see his cock, he simply wasn’t aware of it. Not yet, anyway.

“Guy stuff?” I searched blindly with my pinky for the tip of his manhood. “I’m lost.”

He wiggled in his seat and inched away from my encroaching hand. What little ground I had gained in my attempt to finger the tip of his Johnson was now lost.

With the bottle of beer still clenched tight in his fist, he crossed his arms. “They uhhm. They get wet and then it’s like I’m wearing nothing.”

He was embarrassed, and it clearly wasn’t an act. I wondered if the bulge in his bio pics was something he simply couldn’t avoid. I tried to imagine having an arm-sized chunk of flesh dangling between my legs, and pondered what I’d do to disguise it. Mentally trying to hide his cock in a pair of skin-tight Levi’s only intrigued me more.

There was no sense in sugar-coating my desire. For Christ’s sake, we were both adults. I wanted to see it, and he was the only one who was going to show it to me.

I held his gaze and widened my drunken eyes. “You’ve got a really big dick, don’t you?”

He looked relieved that I’d asked. He spit out a laugh, and then nodded. “Yes ma’am. I do.”

His calling me ma’am caught me off guard, but I decided it must have been a farm boy thing, and I wasn’t about it to get me off track. I slid my hand up his thigh until it grazed against the leg of his shorts. “I want to see it.”

He flinched, almost knocking the chair over in the process. “Excuse me?” His eyes slowly widened. “You wanna see it?”

“I sure do.”

He tilted his head toward Bobby. “What about him?” he whispered.

“They’ll have to edit it out. It’s not HBO for Christ’s sake.”

His eyes searched the area, as if looking for any other onlookers. After satisfying himself that the three of us were the only people present, he looked right at me. “Are you serious?”

“Uh huh.”

“Out here?”

I knew if he showed it to me in private it could create huge problems. I offered a half-assed shrug. “It’s as good of a place as any.”

He glanced over each shoulder and then let out a sigh. “Man, I don’t know.”

“It’s not that big of a deal.” I glanced at his crotch, and despite my best efforts, couldn’t pry my eyes away from the prominent bulge that had developed. “Just pull it out the bottom of your shorts or something.”

He looked at Bobby. “Hard or soft?”

I wanted to see both. No. I wanted to watch it transform from hard to soft. The thought of it made me squirm in anticipation.

I clasped my hands together. “Both.”

He looked defeated. He reached into the leg of his shorts, seemed to wrestle it free, and then flopped it out the opening. With his eyes still fixed on Bobby, he rested his cupped hand against his thigh to shield his massive schlong from the camera’s view.

“Jesus.” I swallowed heavily, but couldn’t tear my eyes from it. “Fuck.”

It was insane.