From my perch on his lap, I could feel all of him straining against me, and I would be a liar if I said it didn’t make me ache.
“How are you feeling?”
“Like I want us to get naked and fuck.”
Jesus.
“Well, that’s not happening,” I whispered, feeling my entire body tremble. “So, stop thinking about it.”
“I know it’s not.” Looser with his actions now that his mind was hazed, he pulled me closer to him, fingers kneading the fleshy part of my hips, as he slowly rocked his hips against me. “But we will.”
My breath hitched in my throat.
He nuzzled my breasts with his nose. “Not today.”
I released another shaky breath.
“But we will.”
Oh Jesus.
“Shh. Focus, Joe. Keep your breathing even,” I instructed, when I could do anything but.
Inhaling a deep breath, he leaned in close and buried his face in my chest. “I’m trying.”
“Good,’ I breathed, shivering. “Keep trying.”
Achingly aware that my bra was the only thing that separated his lips from my breasts, I hailed on every ounce of self-restraint I had to help me in this moment.
His voice was muffled, and his lips brushed against the piece of fabric that concealed my pebbled nipple, when he groaned, “I miss you.”
My heart thudded violently in my chest. “I miss you, too.”
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, nuzzling the outline of my nipple with his nose. “For feeding her your line.”
“It’s okay.” Knotting my fingers in his hair, I cradled his head against my chest and released a shaky breath. “Everything’s going to be okay.”
Several minutes ticked by, but neither one of us moved.
Instead, I remained on his lap, holding both his head and my breath, while he focused intensely on his.
Slowly, the tremors racking his hands, racking his entire body, lessened, and I felt a mountain of relief flood my body.
Repressing a shiver, I reached down to feel his clammy forehead and found that temporary relief abandon me. “Joe, you’re burning up worse than before.”
“Hm?”
“You’re too hot.” Concerned, I let my hands trail to his damp neck, and even damper school shirt. “Holy crap, Joe, you’re drenched.”
“It’s grand,” he mumbled, still dutifully concentrating on his breathing. “It’ll pass.”
Yeah, I wasn’t so sure. “Hang on. I’ll open a window.”
I moved to climb off his lap, but he swiftly wrapped his arms around my body and pulled me back to him. “Don’t move.”
“Joe, you’re literally piping hot.” Panic began to set in when I watched a bead of sweat trickle down the side of his neck. “I could fry an egg on you. Seriously. I need to cool you down.”
“I don’t care.” He buried his face back in my chest and inhaled another deep breath. On the exhale, he whispered, “Don’t leave me.”
“Joe…”
“Please just stay.” He paused to release another slow breath, before continuing, “This is the only time it’s ever stopped. Please don’t break it.”
“This is the only time what’s ever stopped?” I croaked out, feeling my heart thunder wildly in my chest. “And don’t break what?”
“My head,” he mumbled, before adding, “The quiet.”
I don’t understand, I wanted to cry, but I held firm and remained calm.
“I promise I won’t leave you,” I told him, gently removing his tie from his neck. “I’ll stay right here. But I need to not be on your lap right now because my body is heating yours up.”
When he made no move to comply, I leaned back, causing his head to fall forward, and reached for the buttons on his shirt.
“Something’s wrong,” he groaned, hands slumping at his sides. “I don’t feel right.”
“How could you feel right after doing what you just did?” I argued, quickly unbuttoning his shirt and sliding the fabric off his shoulders, only to be greeted by the sight of dark purple bruising all over the left side of his chest, reaching all the way up to his collarbone. I sucked in a sharp breath at the sight. “Jesus, what happened?”
“Fight.”
Joey had a gorgeous chest; lean and strong, with light brown nipples and tightly carved abdominal muscles. His hips were narrow and sported those epic V-shaped sex lines that all the athletically gifted seemed to possess. A dusting of golden-brown hair trailed south from his navel, disappearing beneath the waistband of his grey school trousers.
And while his golden skin was littered with scars, I was certain that I had never seen anyone more perfect in my life.
“A fight?” Shivering, I gently placed the palm of my hand on the bruise that was covering his heart. “With who?”
“Some asshole.” Blowing out a pained breath, he covered my hand with his and whispered, “You should let me go.”
“I know I should.” With my heart hammering violently in my chest, I quickly clenched my eyes shut and willed my heart to just calm down. “But I can’t.”
“There’s something wrong,” he groaned then, shifting uncomfortably. “With my dick.”
“Is this your way of getting me to look at your dick?”
“No,” he groaned, slipping a hand into the waistband of his grey school trousers. “This is me telling you that there is something really wrong with my dick.”
“What is it?”
“I don’t know.” He hissed out a pained breath and flopped back on my bed, groaning like he was in genuine pain. “Fuck.”
“Did you twist a nut?” I asked, deadly serious. “Because Kev did that once, and it’s actually really serious. If you don’t seek medical treatment, you can lose the whole testicle, Joe—“
“No,” he groaned, and then covered his face with his hands. “Fuck, it’s too much.”
“Okay, that’s it!” I threw my hands up in panic. “Take off your clothes and let me see.”
“Not a good idea.”
“Oh, just shut up and strip, dammit.” Concerned, I reached for the button on his school trousers, and snapped it open before undoing his fly. “Lift up your hips.”
“Molloy.“
“Lift up.”
“Fuck.” Shifting upwards, he hissed out another pained groan when I dragged his trousers down his hips. ”Oh Jesus Christ, don’t touch it –“
“I’m sorry!” Wincing, I carefully peeled the waistband of his black boxers over what had to be the biggest damn dick I’d ever seen. “What the fuck is that?”
Springing to attention like a front-line soldier, his fully erect penis bopped around mere inches from my face. “Why is it so—”
“I don’t know!” he bit out, pulling up on his elbows to glare at it like it was the enemy. “It won’t go the fuck down. I keep getting harder.”
“Is that supposed to happen?”
“No.”
“Then why—“
“I don’t fucking know, Molloy!”
“Okay, okay, why don’t we both just calm down!” I shouted, more to myself than him, as I stood in my bedroom, in my bra and knickers, with Joey Lynch’s dick glaring angrily up at me. “Jesus, that’s a big damn dick, Joe.”
“Shut up, Molloy,” he snapped. “Don’t fucking say that. It makes it worse.”
“Why don’t you…well, you know?” I shrugged. “Give it a pull? You know, see if it goes down?”
“Oh, my fucking god,” he growled, and then hissed out a pained breath. “I’m not wanking myself in here.”
“Obviously, you don’t have to do it with me in here,” I argued. “I can go downstairs and make us a sandwich or something.”
“A sandwich? Really, Molloy?”
“I don’t know,” I strangled out. “I haven’t eaten since lunch and you’re… and I’m… Look, I’m just trying to help, okay?”
“Get my phone.”
“Huh?”
“My phone,” he bit out. “Please. Pass it up to me.”
“Where is it?”
“Pocket.”
Scrambling to retrieve his phone, I managed to fish it out of his pocket without making eye contact with it.
“Got it,” I said, climbing onto the bed to kneel beside his slumped frame. “Here.”
“Thanks.”
“No problem.”
ERECTILE MALFUNCTION
FEBRUARY 14TH 2002
JOEY
I couldn’t explain what had possessed me to do something as incredibly reckless as doing a line in my boss’s house.
The only valid excuse I had to hand was that exhaustion had taken over my body to the point that it was crippling me.