This wouldn’t be so bad if I was, say, wearing boxer briefs. But I’m not. Because I don’t own underwear. I find them constrictive and an unnecessary expense. The only time I like my balls cupped is when a nice soft hand is fondling them. Preferably not my own.
“Holy wow.” Nevah is standing in the middle of the open doorway carrying an armload of snacks. A bottle of soda slips from her hold, bounces off her right foot, and lands on the nasty brown carpet with a thud.
“Ow! Fuck!” Nevah drops the rest of the stuff, grabs her toe, and hops around on one foot, face contorted in a mask of pain.
A family of four just happens to pass by our open door at exactly the same time. The mom gasps and covers her children’s eyes while her own lock on my swinging junk. One of them is a teenage girl who tries to pry her mom’s hand away.
I trip over my shorts and face-plant into the carpet.
“Sorry, so sorry!” Nevah shouts and slams the door in their shocked faces.
She slides down the wall, and a loud pop startles us both. Pretzels shoot across the carpet like shrapnel, and I get beaned in the forehead with a rogue piece. My cheek is currently pressed against the disgusting carpet that smells like a combination of filth and green olive juice. My legs are tangled up in my shorts, so I’m forced to flip over onto my back.
“Oh God! Get up, get up!” Nevah hobble rushes over and slides her arms under mine. I probably weigh a good sixty pounds more than she does, so I’m impressed that she manages to pull me a couple of feet toward the tent; however, the carpet has the texture of sandpaper and is highly unpleasant.
“Ahh! Stop! My balls are dragging on the carpet!” I shout. I also think I’m getting rug burn on my ass.
“Sorry! I was trying to lift you, but you’re a hell of a lot heavier than I expected.” She jumps back as I spring to my feet, still swinging free, bare ass on display. I yank my shorts up the rest of the way, making sure I’m tucked in before I zip up the fly and fasten the button.
Her hand is in front of her face, but there’s a narrow gap between two fingers and her eyes are trained on my crotch.
“What the hell just happened?”
“Probably a lot of things I could go to prison for in this town.”
Nevah snorts a laugh, which, of course, means I start laughing, too. She grabs my shoulders and sags against me, laughing so hard tears stream down her face.
“You just flashed an entire family.”
“I thought I had enough time to get dressed before you got back.”
She sucks in a ragged breath and tips her head up, eyes wide and suddenly serious. “Your dick is pierced.”
The entire front of her body is pressed against the entire front of mine. It’s giving my decorated dick a whole lot of ideas. I nod. “It is.”
“So is your tongue.” Her eyes are hooded and her lips part, her own tongue peeking out.
“You’re correct.” I sweep the steel ball across my bottom lip.
She tracks the movement and mutters something that sounds like good idea before she takes a step back. Her hands slide down my shoulders and over my chest. “And your nipple.” She tugs on the steel ring with a devilish smirk.
“You’re observant, aren’t you?”
“And you’re a masochist.” She waggles her eyebrows. “Put a shirt on. I’m starving and I need a stiff drink.”
I exhale a slow breath, willing my body to calm down. I probably should’ve taken care of business in the shower, but it felt skeezy to jerk off when the woman who saved my ass more than once today, who I also have to sleep beside tonight, might be on the other side of the door.
I grab a shirt from my bag and pull it over my head, then twist my hair up, fastening it in a topknot while Nevah cleans up the exploded bag of pretzels.
“We’re down a snack.” She tosses it into the garbage beside the mini fridge.
“I don’t like pretzels anyway.”
“Me either! They’re like the rejects of the snack world. Literally the last thing I would ever consider, but options were limited and I didn’t feel like Cool Ranch Dorito breath was a good plan for tent sleeping.”
“Very considerate of you.” I reach for the doorknob, but she grabs my arm.
“Wait, let’s make sure that family isn’t still out there.” She cracks the door and pokes her head out. Once she’s sure the coast is clear, we lock up and head down the street in the direction of the bar. It’s after ten and I’m starving.
The bar is exactly what I’d expect based on our accommodations: Small, dank, and lacking in ambiance. However, it’s the only place open and we’re both hungry, so it’ll have to do. We order water and beer while we browse the menu. “I basically want to eat everything.”