Chapter 1
You ever meet someone so different from you that you wonder how the hell you even became friends in the first place? That’s me and Sheldon in a nutshell. I’m Dominic Brooks—22, college student, and, if I’m being honest, the guy who usually ends up being the life of the party. Then there’s Sheldon Morse—my best friend since middle school and the nerdiest, most socially awkward dude you’ll ever meet. We’ve been tight for years, and even though we’re complete opposites, we just… work.
Sheldon’s the brains of our little duo—a Computer Science major who could probably hack into the Pentagon if he wanted to. Me? I’m more of a people person. I’m studying Psychology because I like understanding people and maybe because I’m good at helping them figure out their shit. Sheldon, though? He’s the one person I can’t figure out. He’s a mystery wrapped in a hoodie, layered with another hoodie, and then topped off with a jacket—because, for some reason, the man is always dressed like it’s winter in Alaska, even though we live in Miami.
Our mornings are usually predictable. I’m the early riser, and Sheldon’s the night owl who stays up gaming until the sun’s practically up. Most days, I’m the one waking him up, dragging his groggy ass out of bed to eat whatever breakfast I’ve cooked. But this morning? This morning was different.
I woke up to the sound of clinking and shuffling in the kitchen. At first, I thought I was dreaming—or maybe someone broke in. I cracked an eye open, groaning as I rolled over in bed. The clock on my nightstand read 8:13 AM. Too early for Sheldon to be up unless he hadn’t gone to bed yet.
Curious, I dragged myself out of bed, wearing nothing but my boxer briefs. Look, it’s my apartment, and I like to be comfortable, okay? Plus, Sheldon doesn’t even look my way. Rubbing the sleep out of my eyes, I padded down the hallway toward the kitchen, where the noise was coming from.
There he was—Sheldon Morse, the human enigma himself, standing at the counter with a bowl of something in his hands. He didn’t even notice me at first, too busy doing… whatever the hell he was doing.
“Morning,” I said, leaning against the counter with a yawn.
Sheldon glanced up, startled for a second, before giving me one of his awkward little smiles. “Oh, morning, Dom.”
“What’re you making?” I asked, eyeing the bowl in his hands.
He held it up like it was some kind of masterpiece. “Cheerios. And I, uh, chopped up two oatmeal pies and threw them in there.” He gave this little geeky chuckle, clearly proud of his culinary invention.
I couldn’t help but laugh, too, shaking my head. “Really, Sheldon? I don’t see how you eat like that and never gain weight.”
Sheldon, being Sheldon, took my question way too literally. “Well, actually,” he started, “it’s because of my metabolism. See, the way it works is—”
I cut him off with a laugh, waving my hand. “Bro, it wasn’t a literal question.”
“Oh.” He blinked at me, then nodded. “Got it.”
I shook my head, amused as always, and that’s when it happened.
Sheldon came around the counter, bowl in one hand, spoon in the other, and I swear, my brain just… stopped.
The boy was wearing nothing but a pair of loose boxers. Loose. Boxers. And let me tell you, Sheldon doesn’t usually walk around the apartment like that. He’s always layered up like he’s preparing for a blizzard, so seeing him like this? It was already a shock. But the real kicker? The boy was hung. Like, HUNG. So much so that I could see the tip of his dick peeking out of his boxers as he walked by.
Sheldon's massive, uncut cock straining against the thin fabric of his boxers. I'd never seen anything like it before. I froze, my eyes widening as I tried (and failed) not to stare. He had no idea. None. If he did, he would’ve been mortified. Even soft, it was impressive, but I couldn't imagine how huge it must've gotten when hard.
Sheldon was halfway to his room when I stopped him. “Damn, bro, you could’ve fixed me some cereal too,” I said, mostly just to keep him there a little longer.
He turned back to me, completely oblivious, and said, “Oh, I can make you some.”
The sheer size of it was staggering. I bit the inside of my cheek, trying not to let my eyes wander. “Nah, I’m just joking,” I said, waving him off. “It’s okay. I think I want some waffles anyway.”
“Okay,” he said with a nod, still standing there with his bowl in one hand and his spoon in the other.
I cleared my throat, forcing myself to look anywhere but at him. “Matter of fact, I’mma go to Waffle House. You wanna come?”
He shook his head. “No, I’m about to get on the game.” And with that, he turned and walked off to his room, leaving me standing there, trying to process what the hell just happened.
As soon as he was out of sight, I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. My heart was racing, and I didn’t know why. Well, okay, I did know why, but I wasn’t ready to deal with it yet.
Sheldon was my best friend. My awkward, nerdy, hoodie-wearing best friend. And yet, in that moment, I couldn’t stop thinking about how different he looked—how confident he seemed without even realizing it.
I found myself wondering what it would feel like to wrap my lips around the thick shaft to taste the salty precum that likely dripped from the slit.
Shaking my head, I went back to my room to throw on some clothes. I needed some air—and some food. I threw on a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt, grabbed my keys, and headed out. Waffle House sounded like the perfect escape.
The plan was to dine in, maybe scroll through my phone while I ate, but the image of Sheldon walking around in those loose-ass boxers kept creeping into my head. I couldn’t focus. So, I changed my mind and ordered a bacon, egg, and cheese hashbrown bowl to go.
While I waited, I remembered that Sheldon loves their peanut butter waffles. It’s one of the few things that can pull him away from his computer screen. I figured I’d grab him some; I knew he would appreciate it.
By the time I was driving back to the apartment, my thoughts were all over the place. I kept replaying the image of him in my head—how big he was, even soft. It didn’t make sense. How does someone like Sheldon, who’s so shy and awkward, end up being that blessed?
I shook my head, trying to snap myself out of it. “Get it together, Dom,” I mumbled to myself as I pulled into the parking lot.
When I got back to the apartment, the smell of waffles and hashbrowns filled the air, making my stomach growl. But instead of digging into my food, I went straight to Sheldon’s room to give him his waffles.
“Yo, Sheldon,” I called out as I knocked on his door. No answer.
I figured he had his headphones on or something, so I just opened the door—big mistake. I opened the door without thinking, and what I saw stopped me dead in my tracks.
Sheldon was sitting in his computer chair, his back slightly turned toward me. On one of his monitors, I saw he was watching straight porn, and in his hand… God, I couldn’t even process what I was looking at. My brain just went blank.
He was holding a pocket pussy in one hand, but it was way too small for him. His massive cock was busting out of the other side of it, the head was so slick and flushed. He was mid-stroke when he noticed me standing there, frozen in the doorway, with a bag of waffles in my hand.
“Dominic?!” he shouted, his voice cracking as he‘s scrambling to cover himself with one hand while fumbling with his mouse to close the video. “Oh shit—Dominic, get out!”
I couldn’t move. I couldn’t speak. My brain was stuck in some kind of loop, trying to process what I was seeing. “I—I—uh…” I stammered, my mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.
Finally, I managed to move, but not before my hand slipped, and I dropped the bag of waffles right onto the floor.
“Shit, sorry!” I blurted out, bending down to pick up the bag. My hands were shaking, and I couldn’t even look at him. “I didn’t mean to—uh—shit—”
“Just go!” Sheldon practically begged, his voice muffled as he buried his face in his hands.
I grabbed the bag and bolted, closing the door behind me as fast as I could. My heart was racing, my face felt like it was on fire, and I didn’t even know what to do with myself.
Back in the kitchen, I set the bag of food on the counter and leaned against it, trying to catch my breath. My mind was spinning.
I’d never seen Sheldon like that before—so vulnerable, so exposed. And that thing… Jesus Christ. It was one thing to catch a glimpse of him in boxers, but this? This was a whole new level of what the hell just happened.
Damn, Sheldon's dick was something else. I mean, I've seen some impressive packages in my time, but that motherfucker took the cake. Or should I say, he took the whole damn bakery? I swear, it looked like a baseball bat with a foreskin.
Part of me wanted to laugh at how awkward it was. Another part of me… well, let’s just say I was feeling things I didn’t want to admit.
“Sheldon’s gonna kill me,” I said to myself, grabbing my hashbrown bowl and sitting down at the table.
Poking at my bacon, egg, and cheese hashbrown bowl, trying to get my mind off what had just happened. Sheldon’s peanut butter waffles sat untouched on the table, getting cold.
I glanced toward his door, debating whether I should say something. Part of me wanted to leave him alone—he was probably mortified—but the other part of me felt bad. I didn’t mean to walk in on him like that.
After a long moment, I finally said, hesitantly, “Sheldon… I bought you some peanut butter waffles.”
No response.
I sighed, leaning back in my chair and staring at the closed door. He wasn’t coming out anytime soon, and I didn’t blame him. I finished my food in silence, the sound of my fork scraping against the container the only thing filling the room.
When I was done, I tossed my trash and decided to distract myself with some TV in the living room. Maybe a dumb comedy would help me forget the fact that I’d just seen my best friend jerking off with a pocket pussy.
I grabbed the remote, plopped down on the couch, and flipped through channels until I landed on some random show. Five minutes in, I was starting to relax… until I heard the sound of Sheldon’s door creaking open.
I glanced over my shoulder and saw him shuffle out of his room, dressed in his usual uniform—sweatpants, a hoodie, and socks. His head was down, and he was walking fast like he was on a mission to get to the kitchen and back to his room without making eye contact.
“Sheldon,” I called out, my voice softer this time. He didn’t stop.
He opened the fridge, grabbed a Gatorade, and then snatched the waffles off the table. I could see him glancing at me from the corner of his eye awkwardly like he was trying to gauge whether I was still looking at him. He clearly didn’t want to talk about what had happened.
I sighed again, feeling bad for him. “Sorry, Sheldon, but I did knock,” I said, trying to keep my tone light.
Still, he didn’t say anything. He just grabbed his stuff and started heading back toward his room, clearly trying to retreat to the safety of his cave.
But I wasn’t about to let him.
“Sheldon, get your ass over here,” I said lightly but stern, like I was scolding a little kid.
He froze in his tracks, his back still to me. I could see the tension in his shoulders as he stood there, staring at the floor.
“Come here, Sheldon,” I repeated, this time softer but with enough authority to let him know I wasn’t letting it go.
Slowly, he turned around, still holding his Gatorade and waffles. His eyes stayed fixed on the ground as he shuffled over to me, looking like a kid who’d just been caught stealing cookies from the jar.
When he got close enough, I patted the spot on the couch beside me. “Sit down and relax,” I said, my tone gentle but firm.
He hesitated for a moment, his grip tightening on the Gatorade bottle. But then, with a deep sigh, he finally sat down, keeping as much distance between us as the couch would allow.
For a moment, neither of us said anything. The sound of the TV filled the awkward silence, but I could feel the tension radiating off him. He was hunched over, his hoodie pulled tight around him like he was trying to disappear into it.
“Sheldon,” I said after a while, keeping my voice calm.
“You know it's rude to ignore people. Bro, I apologized for coming into your room at the wrong time,” I said. He nodded his head okay.
“Bro, there is nothing to be embarrassed about; everybody masturbates.” I chuckled a little, trying to ease the moment. He looked away and nodded his head again to show understanding.
“Damn, you’re really not gonna talk to me now?” I asked, keeping my tone light but watching him carefully.
Sheldon shrugged, still avoiding my eyes. “What do you want me to say?”
I leaned back on the couch, crossing my arms. “I don’t know—maybe, ‘I accept your apology, or I should’ve told you I was working with a Monster.’” I said with a smirk.
That got a reaction. Sheldon snorted, shaking his head. “Dude, shut up,” he mumbled, but I could see the corner of his mouth twitching. “What are you talking about?”
I say, “Oh, you know what the hell I'm talking about. You have the fucking World Trade Center between your legs.”
He starts laughing uncontrollably, shaking his head. “Why didn't you tell me you were born with three legs, bro?” I said, laughing, but Sheldon couldn't stop laughing.
“I bet girls are scared of that thing,” I said, smirking as Sheldon’s laughter finally started to calm down. He wiped a tear from the corner of his eye from laughing so hard, still chuckling softly.
“Bro, I’m a virgin,” he blurted out, his voice quieter now. It was like the laughter had opened him up, but as soon as the words came out, I saw his face flush red. He immediately looked away, rubbing the back of his neck.
I froze, blinking at him. “Wait, what?” I asked, leaning forward slightly. “You’re trying to tell me you’ve never had sex?”
He shrugged, still avoiding my eyes. “Yeah. Never,” he said, his tone casual, but I could tell he was bracing himself for my reaction.
I stared at him, completely floored. “Bro… you’re walking around with that big ass dick, and you’ve never used it? Like, not even once?” I asked, pointing vaguely toward his lap.
“Dude, chill,” Sheldon said, laughing nervously, his face somehow getting even redder. “It’s not like I’m out here advertising or anything.”
“Man, you don’t have to advertise,” I said, throwing my hands up. “You’ve got a built-in billboard down there! You’re 22, bro. You’ve been in college for four years. You’re telling me you’ve never even came close to getting some?”
Sheldon laughed, running a hand through his hair. "Yeah, I came close once. Senior year, there was this girl, Jenna. She had been flirting with me for a while, and one night, she texted me to come over to her place. I climbed through her window, and I thought...you know..."
He trailed off, his expression turning shamefaced. "But when I whipped it out, she took one look and said, 'Nope, not happening.' Said I wasn't sticking her with that thing."
"Did she at least suck it?" I asked, my curiosity getting the best of me.
Sheldon snorted. "Yeah, but it was terrible. Her teeth kept scraping against it. I told her to stop, but she just kept going, thinking it would get better. Finally, I had to pull away and put it back in my pants."
He chuckled at the memory, shaking his head. "So yeah, that was the closest I've ever come to actually doing it."
"If you weren't my best friend, I'd give that gawk gawk 3000," I said with a playful grin.
Sheldon burst out laughing; he knew about my bisexuality. "Dude, you stupid…I really don't think anyone could give me good head," he said, laughing, wiping tears from his eyes.
I lifted an eyebrow skeptically. "Bullshit," I taunted. "I can show better than I can tell you."
Sheldon quickly covered his crotch area with his empty waffle container and Gatorade bottle as if protecting himself from an imminent attack. "Whoa, whoa," he said with a nervous laugh.
I smirked at his flustered reaction before hopping up from the couch. "Just hold that thought," I said with a wink. I dashed to my bedroom and grabbed my 8-inch silicone dildo.
Returning to the living room, I dramatically flopped onto the couch beside Sheldon, holding up my toy for his amusement with a grin. "Ta-da!" Sheldon's eyes widened in surprise.
He burst into laughter, clearly amused by my display. "You have a dildo," he managed to choke out between giggles, relaxing a bit as he placed his food on the coffee table.
I leaned in with a grin, holding up the dildo like it was some kind of trophy. “What do you think this baby's for?” I said, wagging it in front of him.
Sheldon’s eyes widened, and he let out a nervous laugh. “Dude, you’re insane! I never would've guessed you were the one taking it,” he said, but there was genuine curiosity in his expression.
I flashed him a confident smile, enjoying the attention. "Bro, I'm versatile," I twirled the toy in my hand for dramatic effect before leaning back against the couch, and positioning it at the entrance of my mouth.
“You’re not actually gonna—” Sheldon started, but I cut him off with a wink. "Be quiet and watch," I said, sliding the dildo into my mouth with practiced ease.
I kept my movements slow and deliberate, making sure to put on a show. Taking the dildo deeper, my tongue swirling around the smooth surface as I worked it further into my throat. I could feel Sheldon's eyes on me, watching intently as I skillfully manipulated the length, making it nearly disappear within the confines of my oral cavity.
Sheldon stared at me, his mouth slightly open. “What the fuck, dude...” he managed to breathe out, but there was a hint of awe in his voice. His eyes were fixed on me servicing my toy, my cheeks hollowing as I sucked harder, relishing the sensation of the cool plastic sliding along my tongue and the back of my throat.
After a moment, I released the dildo with a soft pop, a string of saliva connecting my lips to its tip. I smirked at Sheldon, my eyes sparkling with pride. "See."
He was in disbelief, his eyes wide as he continued to stare at me. I chuckled, glancing down, and that’s when I noticed the growing bulge in his sweatpants. Smirking, I tilted my head and said, "Damn, dude, you okay?"
He shook his head quickly, his face flushing. "That was... uh, pretty impressive," he admitted, scratching the back of his neck nervously.
I laughed, leaning back casually. "Anytime you want to test drive these skills, just let me know," I teased, winking at him.
Sheldon laughed awkwardly, his cheeks still red. "I think... I think I’m just gonna head back to my room," he stammered, standing up and grabbing his food container. He shifted it strategically in front of himself, trying to hide the obvious, and started walking quickly toward his room.
"Don’t get scared!" I called after him, grinning. He laughed over his shoulder, still flustered. "See you later, Dom," he replied, disappearing into his room and shutting the door behind him.
I couldn’t help but laugh, shaking my head at the whole situation. But deep down, I knew. He wasn’t just running away to hide—part of him was curious. Part of him wanted to try. And I wasn’t about to let him off that easily.
Getting up from the couch, I made my way to his room. The door wasn’t locked, so I pushed it open gently, stepping inside. Sheldon was sitting on his bed, his back against the headboard, the food container still balanced on his lap. He looked up at me, his expression a mix of surprise and nervousness.
I leaned against the doorframe, crossing my arms. "You know," I said, my voice calm but teasing, "a mouth is a mouth, right?"
You ever meet someone so different from you that you wonder how the hell you even became friends in the first place? That’s me and Sheldon in a nutshell. I’m Dominic Brooks—22, college student, and, if I’m being honest, the guy who usually ends up being the life of the party. Then there’s Sheldon Morse—my best friend since middle school and the nerdiest, most socially awkward dude you’ll ever meet. We’ve been tight for years, and even though we’re complete opposites, we just… work.
Sheldon’s the brains of our little duo—a Computer Science major who could probably hack into the Pentagon if he wanted to. Me? I’m more of a people person. I’m studying Psychology because I like understanding people and maybe because I’m good at helping them figure out their shit. Sheldon, though? He’s the one person I can’t figure out. He’s a mystery wrapped in a hoodie, layered with another hoodie, and then topped off with a jacket—because, for some reason, the man is always dressed like it’s winter in Alaska, even though we live in Miami.
Our mornings are usually predictable. I’m the early riser, and Sheldon’s the night owl who stays up gaming until the sun’s practically up. Most days, I’m the one waking him up, dragging his groggy ass out of bed to eat whatever breakfast I’ve cooked. But this morning? This morning was different.
I woke up to the sound of clinking and shuffling in the kitchen. At first, I thought I was dreaming—or maybe someone broke in. I cracked an eye open, groaning as I rolled over in bed. The clock on my nightstand read 8:13 AM. Too early for Sheldon to be up unless he hadn’t gone to bed yet.
Curious, I dragged myself out of bed, wearing nothing but my boxer briefs. Look, it’s my apartment, and I like to be comfortable, okay? Plus, Sheldon doesn’t even look my way. Rubbing the sleep out of my eyes, I padded down the hallway toward the kitchen, where the noise was coming from.
There he was—Sheldon Morse, the human enigma himself, standing at the counter with a bowl of something in his hands. He didn’t even notice me at first, too busy doing… whatever the hell he was doing.
“Morning,” I said, leaning against the counter with a yawn.
Sheldon glanced up, startled for a second, before giving me one of his awkward little smiles. “Oh, morning, Dom.”
“What’re you making?” I asked, eyeing the bowl in his hands.
He held it up like it was some kind of masterpiece. “Cheerios. And I, uh, chopped up two oatmeal pies and threw them in there.” He gave this little geeky chuckle, clearly proud of his culinary invention.
I couldn’t help but laugh, too, shaking my head. “Really, Sheldon? I don’t see how you eat like that and never gain weight.”
Sheldon, being Sheldon, took my question way too literally. “Well, actually,” he started, “it’s because of my metabolism. See, the way it works is—”
I cut him off with a laugh, waving my hand. “Bro, it wasn’t a literal question.”
“Oh.” He blinked at me, then nodded. “Got it.”
I shook my head, amused as always, and that’s when it happened.
Sheldon came around the counter, bowl in one hand, spoon in the other, and I swear, my brain just… stopped.
The boy was wearing nothing but a pair of loose boxers. Loose. Boxers. And let me tell you, Sheldon doesn’t usually walk around the apartment like that. He’s always layered up like he’s preparing for a blizzard, so seeing him like this? It was already a shock. But the real kicker? The boy was hung. Like, HUNG. So much so that I could see the tip of his dick peeking out of his boxers as he walked by.
Sheldon's massive, uncut cock straining against the thin fabric of his boxers. I'd never seen anything like it before. I froze, my eyes widening as I tried (and failed) not to stare. He had no idea. None. If he did, he would’ve been mortified. Even soft, it was impressive, but I couldn't imagine how huge it must've gotten when hard.
Sheldon was halfway to his room when I stopped him. “Damn, bro, you could’ve fixed me some cereal too,” I said, mostly just to keep him there a little longer.
He turned back to me, completely oblivious, and said, “Oh, I can make you some.”
The sheer size of it was staggering. I bit the inside of my cheek, trying not to let my eyes wander. “Nah, I’m just joking,” I said, waving him off. “It’s okay. I think I want some waffles anyway.”
“Okay,” he said with a nod, still standing there with his bowl in one hand and his spoon in the other.
I cleared my throat, forcing myself to look anywhere but at him. “Matter of fact, I’mma go to Waffle House. You wanna come?”
He shook his head. “No, I’m about to get on the game.” And with that, he turned and walked off to his room, leaving me standing there, trying to process what the hell just happened.
As soon as he was out of sight, I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. My heart was racing, and I didn’t know why. Well, okay, I did know why, but I wasn’t ready to deal with it yet.
Sheldon was my best friend. My awkward, nerdy, hoodie-wearing best friend. And yet, in that moment, I couldn’t stop thinking about how different he looked—how confident he seemed without even realizing it.
I found myself wondering what it would feel like to wrap my lips around the thick shaft to taste the salty precum that likely dripped from the slit.
Shaking my head, I went back to my room to throw on some clothes. I needed some air—and some food. I threw on a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt, grabbed my keys, and headed out. Waffle House sounded like the perfect escape.
The plan was to dine in, maybe scroll through my phone while I ate, but the image of Sheldon walking around in those loose-ass boxers kept creeping into my head. I couldn’t focus. So, I changed my mind and ordered a bacon, egg, and cheese hashbrown bowl to go.
While I waited, I remembered that Sheldon loves their peanut butter waffles. It’s one of the few things that can pull him away from his computer screen. I figured I’d grab him some; I knew he would appreciate it.
By the time I was driving back to the apartment, my thoughts were all over the place. I kept replaying the image of him in my head—how big he was, even soft. It didn’t make sense. How does someone like Sheldon, who’s so shy and awkward, end up being that blessed?
I shook my head, trying to snap myself out of it. “Get it together, Dom,” I mumbled to myself as I pulled into the parking lot.
When I got back to the apartment, the smell of waffles and hashbrowns filled the air, making my stomach growl. But instead of digging into my food, I went straight to Sheldon’s room to give him his waffles.
“Yo, Sheldon,” I called out as I knocked on his door. No answer.
I figured he had his headphones on or something, so I just opened the door—big mistake. I opened the door without thinking, and what I saw stopped me dead in my tracks.
Sheldon was sitting in his computer chair, his back slightly turned toward me. On one of his monitors, I saw he was watching straight porn, and in his hand… God, I couldn’t even process what I was looking at. My brain just went blank.
He was holding a pocket pussy in one hand, but it was way too small for him. His massive cock was busting out of the other side of it, the head was so slick and flushed. He was mid-stroke when he noticed me standing there, frozen in the doorway, with a bag of waffles in my hand.
“Dominic?!” he shouted, his voice cracking as he‘s scrambling to cover himself with one hand while fumbling with his mouse to close the video. “Oh shit—Dominic, get out!”
I couldn’t move. I couldn’t speak. My brain was stuck in some kind of loop, trying to process what I was seeing. “I—I—uh…” I stammered, my mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.
Finally, I managed to move, but not before my hand slipped, and I dropped the bag of waffles right onto the floor.
“Shit, sorry!” I blurted out, bending down to pick up the bag. My hands were shaking, and I couldn’t even look at him. “I didn’t mean to—uh—shit—”
“Just go!” Sheldon practically begged, his voice muffled as he buried his face in his hands.
I grabbed the bag and bolted, closing the door behind me as fast as I could. My heart was racing, my face felt like it was on fire, and I didn’t even know what to do with myself.
Back in the kitchen, I set the bag of food on the counter and leaned against it, trying to catch my breath. My mind was spinning.
I’d never seen Sheldon like that before—so vulnerable, so exposed. And that thing… Jesus Christ. It was one thing to catch a glimpse of him in boxers, but this? This was a whole new level of what the hell just happened.
Damn, Sheldon's dick was something else. I mean, I've seen some impressive packages in my time, but that motherfucker took the cake. Or should I say, he took the whole damn bakery? I swear, it looked like a baseball bat with a foreskin.
Part of me wanted to laugh at how awkward it was. Another part of me… well, let’s just say I was feeling things I didn’t want to admit.
“Sheldon’s gonna kill me,” I said to myself, grabbing my hashbrown bowl and sitting down at the table.
Poking at my bacon, egg, and cheese hashbrown bowl, trying to get my mind off what had just happened. Sheldon’s peanut butter waffles sat untouched on the table, getting cold.
I glanced toward his door, debating whether I should say something. Part of me wanted to leave him alone—he was probably mortified—but the other part of me felt bad. I didn’t mean to walk in on him like that.
After a long moment, I finally said, hesitantly, “Sheldon… I bought you some peanut butter waffles.”
No response.
I sighed, leaning back in my chair and staring at the closed door. He wasn’t coming out anytime soon, and I didn’t blame him. I finished my food in silence, the sound of my fork scraping against the container the only thing filling the room.
When I was done, I tossed my trash and decided to distract myself with some TV in the living room. Maybe a dumb comedy would help me forget the fact that I’d just seen my best friend jerking off with a pocket pussy.
I grabbed the remote, plopped down on the couch, and flipped through channels until I landed on some random show. Five minutes in, I was starting to relax… until I heard the sound of Sheldon’s door creaking open.
I glanced over my shoulder and saw him shuffle out of his room, dressed in his usual uniform—sweatpants, a hoodie, and socks. His head was down, and he was walking fast like he was on a mission to get to the kitchen and back to his room without making eye contact.
“Sheldon,” I called out, my voice softer this time. He didn’t stop.
He opened the fridge, grabbed a Gatorade, and then snatched the waffles off the table. I could see him glancing at me from the corner of his eye awkwardly like he was trying to gauge whether I was still looking at him. He clearly didn’t want to talk about what had happened.
I sighed again, feeling bad for him. “Sorry, Sheldon, but I did knock,” I said, trying to keep my tone light.
Still, he didn’t say anything. He just grabbed his stuff and started heading back toward his room, clearly trying to retreat to the safety of his cave.
But I wasn’t about to let him.
“Sheldon, get your ass over here,” I said lightly but stern, like I was scolding a little kid.
He froze in his tracks, his back still to me. I could see the tension in his shoulders as he stood there, staring at the floor.
“Come here, Sheldon,” I repeated, this time softer but with enough authority to let him know I wasn’t letting it go.
Slowly, he turned around, still holding his Gatorade and waffles. His eyes stayed fixed on the ground as he shuffled over to me, looking like a kid who’d just been caught stealing cookies from the jar.
When he got close enough, I patted the spot on the couch beside me. “Sit down and relax,” I said, my tone gentle but firm.
He hesitated for a moment, his grip tightening on the Gatorade bottle. But then, with a deep sigh, he finally sat down, keeping as much distance between us as the couch would allow.
For a moment, neither of us said anything. The sound of the TV filled the awkward silence, but I could feel the tension radiating off him. He was hunched over, his hoodie pulled tight around him like he was trying to disappear into it.
“Sheldon,” I said after a while, keeping my voice calm.
“You know it's rude to ignore people. Bro, I apologized for coming into your room at the wrong time,” I said. He nodded his head okay.
“Bro, there is nothing to be embarrassed about; everybody masturbates.” I chuckled a little, trying to ease the moment. He looked away and nodded his head again to show understanding.
“Damn, you’re really not gonna talk to me now?” I asked, keeping my tone light but watching him carefully.
Sheldon shrugged, still avoiding my eyes. “What do you want me to say?”
I leaned back on the couch, crossing my arms. “I don’t know—maybe, ‘I accept your apology, or I should’ve told you I was working with a Monster.’” I said with a smirk.
That got a reaction. Sheldon snorted, shaking his head. “Dude, shut up,” he mumbled, but I could see the corner of his mouth twitching. “What are you talking about?”
I say, “Oh, you know what the hell I'm talking about. You have the fucking World Trade Center between your legs.”
He starts laughing uncontrollably, shaking his head. “Why didn't you tell me you were born with three legs, bro?” I said, laughing, but Sheldon couldn't stop laughing.
“I bet girls are scared of that thing,” I said, smirking as Sheldon’s laughter finally started to calm down. He wiped a tear from the corner of his eye from laughing so hard, still chuckling softly.
“Bro, I’m a virgin,” he blurted out, his voice quieter now. It was like the laughter had opened him up, but as soon as the words came out, I saw his face flush red. He immediately looked away, rubbing the back of his neck.
I froze, blinking at him. “Wait, what?” I asked, leaning forward slightly. “You’re trying to tell me you’ve never had sex?”
He shrugged, still avoiding my eyes. “Yeah. Never,” he said, his tone casual, but I could tell he was bracing himself for my reaction.
I stared at him, completely floored. “Bro… you’re walking around with that big ass dick, and you’ve never used it? Like, not even once?” I asked, pointing vaguely toward his lap.
“Dude, chill,” Sheldon said, laughing nervously, his face somehow getting even redder. “It’s not like I’m out here advertising or anything.”
“Man, you don’t have to advertise,” I said, throwing my hands up. “You’ve got a built-in billboard down there! You’re 22, bro. You’ve been in college for four years. You’re telling me you’ve never even came close to getting some?”
Sheldon laughed, running a hand through his hair. "Yeah, I came close once. Senior year, there was this girl, Jenna. She had been flirting with me for a while, and one night, she texted me to come over to her place. I climbed through her window, and I thought...you know..."
He trailed off, his expression turning shamefaced. "But when I whipped it out, she took one look and said, 'Nope, not happening.' Said I wasn't sticking her with that thing."
"Did she at least suck it?" I asked, my curiosity getting the best of me.
Sheldon snorted. "Yeah, but it was terrible. Her teeth kept scraping against it. I told her to stop, but she just kept going, thinking it would get better. Finally, I had to pull away and put it back in my pants."
He chuckled at the memory, shaking his head. "So yeah, that was the closest I've ever come to actually doing it."
"If you weren't my best friend, I'd give that gawk gawk 3000," I said with a playful grin.
Sheldon burst out laughing; he knew about my bisexuality. "Dude, you stupid…I really don't think anyone could give me good head," he said, laughing, wiping tears from his eyes.
I lifted an eyebrow skeptically. "Bullshit," I taunted. "I can show better than I can tell you."
Sheldon quickly covered his crotch area with his empty waffle container and Gatorade bottle as if protecting himself from an imminent attack. "Whoa, whoa," he said with a nervous laugh.
I smirked at his flustered reaction before hopping up from the couch. "Just hold that thought," I said with a wink. I dashed to my bedroom and grabbed my 8-inch silicone dildo.
Returning to the living room, I dramatically flopped onto the couch beside Sheldon, holding up my toy for his amusement with a grin. "Ta-da!" Sheldon's eyes widened in surprise.
He burst into laughter, clearly amused by my display. "You have a dildo," he managed to choke out between giggles, relaxing a bit as he placed his food on the coffee table.
I leaned in with a grin, holding up the dildo like it was some kind of trophy. “What do you think this baby's for?” I said, wagging it in front of him.
Sheldon’s eyes widened, and he let out a nervous laugh. “Dude, you’re insane! I never would've guessed you were the one taking it,” he said, but there was genuine curiosity in his expression.
I flashed him a confident smile, enjoying the attention. "Bro, I'm versatile," I twirled the toy in my hand for dramatic effect before leaning back against the couch, and positioning it at the entrance of my mouth.
“You’re not actually gonna—” Sheldon started, but I cut him off with a wink. "Be quiet and watch," I said, sliding the dildo into my mouth with practiced ease.
I kept my movements slow and deliberate, making sure to put on a show. Taking the dildo deeper, my tongue swirling around the smooth surface as I worked it further into my throat. I could feel Sheldon's eyes on me, watching intently as I skillfully manipulated the length, making it nearly disappear within the confines of my oral cavity.
Sheldon stared at me, his mouth slightly open. “What the fuck, dude...” he managed to breathe out, but there was a hint of awe in his voice. His eyes were fixed on me servicing my toy, my cheeks hollowing as I sucked harder, relishing the sensation of the cool plastic sliding along my tongue and the back of my throat.
After a moment, I released the dildo with a soft pop, a string of saliva connecting my lips to its tip. I smirked at Sheldon, my eyes sparkling with pride. "See."
He was in disbelief, his eyes wide as he continued to stare at me. I chuckled, glancing down, and that’s when I noticed the growing bulge in his sweatpants. Smirking, I tilted my head and said, "Damn, dude, you okay?"
He shook his head quickly, his face flushing. "That was... uh, pretty impressive," he admitted, scratching the back of his neck nervously.
I laughed, leaning back casually. "Anytime you want to test drive these skills, just let me know," I teased, winking at him.
Sheldon laughed awkwardly, his cheeks still red. "I think... I think I’m just gonna head back to my room," he stammered, standing up and grabbing his food container. He shifted it strategically in front of himself, trying to hide the obvious, and started walking quickly toward his room.
"Don’t get scared!" I called after him, grinning. He laughed over his shoulder, still flustered. "See you later, Dom," he replied, disappearing into his room and shutting the door behind him.
I couldn’t help but laugh, shaking my head at the whole situation. But deep down, I knew. He wasn’t just running away to hide—part of him was curious. Part of him wanted to try. And I wasn’t about to let him off that easily.
Getting up from the couch, I made my way to his room. The door wasn’t locked, so I pushed it open gently, stepping inside. Sheldon was sitting on his bed, his back against the headboard, the food container still balanced on his lap. He looked up at me, his expression a mix of surprise and nervousness.
I leaned against the doorframe, crossing my arms. "You know," I said, my voice calm but teasing, "a mouth is a mouth, right?"
