PANCAKES AND PASSION
The bathroom door flew open, crashing against the wall so forcefully the whole room shook. “Billy? Jason? You in here?”
Time stood still.
They looked at Rory and me.
We looked at them.
“Um, oops. Guess not. Hi boys. Nice shower? Hope we didn’t interrupt anything.”
Dear Sweet Lord… no!
Not Wingman and Strumpet!
Not the cockblocking demon girlfriends of my flatmates.
Why didn’t they leave?
Why did they keep standing here?
Why did they keep staring?
And why was Wingman’s mouth hanging open?
Surely she’d seen a cock before? Like, maybe, Billy’s?
“Eat, drink and be merry, for tomorrow we may diet,” snickered Strumpet, glancing pointedly at my dick and then Rory’s before winking at me.
I groaned. The girl knew no boundaries. Had no verbal filter either.
Rory looked at me, confused.
I groaned again—at this rate my dick was never going to get any relief.
CHAPTER 07: WHY NOT TAKE A PHOTO?
And still they stood there gawping like a pair of fish out of water.
I really would have to speak to Billy and Jason. Did they never get naked with their girls? By their stares it appeared they’d never seen an erect cock before.
“Why not take a photo? It lasts longer,” I muttered sarcastically, looking from one to the other pointedly.
My jibe was meant to wake the girls from their stupor.
Just not in the way I anticipated.
“Yeah. Oh yeah. Brilliant idea,” giggled Wingman, nodding in furious agreement while delving into her shorts pocket for her phone.
“Oh gosh, yeah! I needs to keep me this Kodak moment forever!” Strumpet agreed, diving for her cell. She was so bleedin’ eager she was hopping from foot to foot.
Now it was my turn to gape. Were they deaf to sarcasm? Did these two have absolutely no manners or sense of decorum?
Strumpet’s next words confirmed my suspicions.
“Um, hey, gorgeous, do you think you could move your hand down Lover Boy’s shaft a little so I can get a good shot of his weeping head?” Strumpet, smiled casually over the top of her iPhone at Rory—you’d have thought she was asking him to pass the salt
They truly had no shame.
“Pancake Boy?” For the first time since I’d met Rory, he sounded uncertain.
“Pancake Boy?” squealed Wingman. “I love it! Wow, it suits you! Hahahaha cock with a side of maple. Oh yeah! I could go for that.”
“Wingman! Strumpet! Honestly! Girls! Do you mind?”
“Oh, right! You guys must be so uncomfortable. Tiles are a bitch aren’t they? Still, I’ll take bruised knees over carpet burn any day of the week—”
“God, yes!” interrupted Wingman. “I had carpet burn on both knees once and I could hardly move for days!”
Rory cringed into my side. I pulled him in closer, as if by burying his face in my shoulder I could protect him from the image of Wingman giving head. At this rate, I‘d need to rinse his brains out as thoroughly as I’d rinsed his eyes. “Too much info there, girlfriend,” I chided her.
“So, shall we all get a little more comfy then, and move this party to your room?” Strumpet continued to snap away with her phone, smiling at Rory and I. By the look of her, you’d have thought it was Christmas morning and Santa had brought her every single item on her Wish List.
“Ah, Rory and I will be moving this party to my room. You two can go down to the Grande Hotel and find your boyfriends and have your own little party.”
My words were met with matching pouts.
“But your party looks a whole lot more interesting than anything Jason or Billy could think up.”
Strumpet, looked at her friend, nodding agreement.
“Oh come on, Pancake Boy,”Strumpet began, a note of pleading entering her voice when she saw me energetically shake my head. Hell, if I shook it any harder, I’d be doing Linda’ Blair’s head spinning scene from The Exorcist. “We promise to be very quiet. We’ll stand in the corner… You won’t even know we’re there—”
“No way!” I repeated. “No freakin’ way on God’s green earth. Pigs will fly and… and, um… and…” I stuttered, trying to think up some analogy that would truly convey my meaning of never, absolutely never. “And Katy Perry will sprout a double-headed dong between her thighs before I let you two perverts watch me and my boyfriend!” Okay, that didn’t come out quite the way I’d planned, but it was too late to pull the words back. What had been said could not be unsaid.
“Boyfriend?” asked Rory, going all googly-eyed on me. He’d accepted the double-headed dong bit without query… far out! I wondered how kinky he was. He squeezed my dick. Not a good idea—it swelled appreciatively. Apparently, not even Wingman and Strumpet could curb my nether region’s enthusiasm for Rory.
“Yes, boyfriend. Mine. And I don’t share.” I planted one on Rory’s soft lips. He moaned softly. Also not a good idea—Wingman and Strumpet moaned too.
Which reminded me… I had unfinished business with the cockblocking girlfriends from hell.
“What the hell do you two think Rory and I are? Porn stars?”
“Well, um, you could be…” Strumpet focused her gaze firstly on my groin, and then Rory’s, her look so intent, I swear it raised the temperature in the room by ten degrees.
“Oh, yeah… definitely,” breathed Wingman.
“Out!” I yelled. “Out! Rory and I were not put on this earth for your viewing pleasure.”
“Ooh, I love it when you get all manly and dominant,” whispered Rory, licking my neck and stroking my dick. And God help me, or make lightning strike me for my sins, but I couldn’t help it—I rocked my hips into his fist.
Fuck, it was so hard to concentrate when he had his hands on me.
“Me too,” croaked Wingman.
Okay, that brought me back to the present. If I didn’t nip this in the bud Rory’s and my brains were going to need more than a rinse. I was thinking bleach…
I glared at her, pointing to the door.
“Ignore us. We’re not here.” Strumpet roughly shoved her friend into the corner, between the vanity and the wall. “See, we’re not here.”
Rory started to laugh—I couldn’t blame him—the innocent, lalala, we’re not really looking expressions on the faces of my flatmates pervy girlfriends was comical to say the least.
I don’t know what possessed him, but he leaned in and nibbled on my ear lobe, before sucking it into his hot wet mouth.
“Babe,” I groaned. “Not helping…”