“What’s that area around the guy’s ass that makes him come?” I asked.
“You mean the taint?”
“I don’t know.”
“Between the balls and asshole, right?”
“I think so,” I said.
It wasn’t what you’d call a typical conversation one would have while cooking a pot of pea soup, but for us it wasn’t an unusual one. And on this particular morning, it happened quite by accident. One minute we were exchanging tips on how to make soup stock, the next we were exchanging tips on how to make a man come. His name was Samuel. We had only been friends a few months, but had already discovered that if it weren’t for our gender, we’d be the same person. We were both unable to commit, both interested in being known as the best lay on this side of the metropolis, and both so insecure about these two facts that we had to continually reassure each other that it was okay to be this way.
And if it wasn’t for the fact that he was gay, I probably would’ve fucked him and dumped him by now. Would he have fucked and dumped me? Who knows.
“It’s where the prostate is,” he said.
“Right,” I said. I thought about the prostate. “It’s hard, right?”
“No, It’s fleshy. Here, I’ll show you.”
Before I knew it, he had his pants down to his ankles and his ass in my face. I really wasn’t expecting to have my soup with a side order of ass crack.
He took his hands and separated his cheeks. “Look under here,” he instructed. Then he spread his legs apart.
“What?”
“You have to get down on your knees,” he said.
I remained in my seat, amazed that I had been able to hold my focus on his ass crack for as long as I had. I was, however, unsure if I’d be able to maintain my focus while down on my knees.
“C’mon. It’s for educational purposes.”
“Is that what you tell all your prospects before luring them to your bedroom?” I asked, sliding down off my chair and onto the floor. The whole scene was bordering on absurdity; yet, there I was, adhering to his every command. Admittedly, the prospect of discovering the precise spot that causes a man to explode with ecstasy delighted me. It was like I was on the verge of discovering a long sought after gem.
I sat cross-legged on the floor with my upper body hunched over and between his legs. I cranked my head upward until I was face to face with what I guessed was his taint. Whatever it was, it was furry.
“Okay, I’m here,” I said.
“Can you see it?”
“All I see is a bunch of hair.”
“Maybe it’ll be better if you lie down on your back.
Make sure your face is parallel to my balls,” he said.
“Do you have any idea how many times I hear that in a day?”
He was not amused as I flattened myself out on the floor.
“Now, you see that long stretch of skin?”
“Kind of.”
“Hold on,” he said, taking his fingers and parting his pubic hairs. Underneath was something soft and wrinkly. “Now do you see it?”
“I see something that looks like chicken skin.”
“Good. Put your finger on it,” he said.
“Okay.”
There was a long pause. Surely, this couldn’t be the end of the lesson. As it stood, it wasn’t much of a lesson at all.
He cleared his throat. “Go ahead.”
“What?”
“Touch it,” he said.
“You want me to touch it?”
“How else are you going to learn?”
“I don’t know. Don’t they have a pop-up book or something?”
“Who’s they? Just put your finger on it and apply pressure. It’s okay.”
The “it’s okay” part of the sentence failed to give me the reassurance I needed.
“But…what if I…you know?”
“What?” he asked.
“What if I…you know…make you come?”
He shoved his face between his legs to show me how mortified he was. It was something I could’ve done without.
“I could make you come if I wanted to,” I said.
“Come on, for God sakes! I can’t hold my ass open like this all day!”
“Hmm, a sentence one just doesn’t get to hear often enough.”
In one swift movement, he let go of his ass cheeks, pulled his pants up, and moved away from me.
“Alright, forget it,” he said.
“What? What’d I do?”
“This isn’t something I’d do for just anyone, you know.”
“I know, but I’m embarrassed. I’ve never been ordered to touch someone’s prostate before.” I said.
“Bullshit.”
“What?”
“You’re not embarrassed. You’re disgusted,” he said.
Oh, Jesus. We were no longer bordering on absurdity. We were smack down in the middle of it.
“Oh, fuck off,” I said. “If you weren’t gay I’d be right in there licking those wrinkles smooth.”
“No, you wouldn’t.”
“Yes, I would.”
I could tell he was beginning to soften. I, on the other hand, was getting aggravated. If anyone was going to be insecure about this whole situation, it was going to be me.
“Seriously, I could make you come if I wanted to.”
“You probably couldn’t even give me an erection.”
“I could if you were straight,” I ventured.
“No, you couldn’t.”
“Could too.”
“This is ridiculous” he said. “Do you want to see my taint or what?”
“Come on. You don’t think I could I give you an erection if you were straight?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.”
“Maybe?”
I could tell the idea was starting to churn in his head.
“Okay. Probably.” he said.
“Probably?”
It was a start. I knew for Samuel it was a compliment, and at that moment, for me, it became a challenge.
“Okay,” I said. “Get your ass over here.”
He resumed his position. I, in turn, extended my index finger. I stayed that way while mentally preparing myself to touch my friend’s prostate.
I took a deep breath in and then slowly breathed out. Shortly thereafter, I heard a whimper. As it dawned on me that it was coming from Samuel, he somehow lost his footing and ended up on my face.
With his ass on my forehead, balls on my mouth, and taint on the bridge of my nose, I wondered where his dick was. Like everything else, it should’ve been somewhere on my face — which was at that moment being crushed from his weight.
Samuel immediately rolled off me.
“That fucking hurt,” I said.
“I’m sorry.”
“What happened?”
“Nothing.” He wouldn’t look at me.
“What do you mean nothing? Your balls were just on my face.”
“I’m sorry,” he repeated. He refused to say anything more as he pulled his pants up and exited the room.
In the meantime, I continued to lay there pondering the word “probably”. I could “probably” give him an erection. Was probably a good enough answer? Obviously not, since I was lying there pondering it.
To distract myself from my insecurities, I decided to check on the pea soup. I saw that a thin layer of skin had formed on the top. Maybe it was burnt.
I turned the stove off, then moved the pot off the element.
Samuel came back down, looking more relaxed. In fact, he looked almost elated.
“You’ll be happy to know I just jerked off,” he said.
We had always been open with each other, but this I wasn’t expecting. “Why would that make me happy?”
“You gave me an erection.”
“I did?” I had been upgraded from a maybe to a probably to a definitely! “But how? I didn’t even touch you.”
“No, but you blew on me.” When he saw how confused I looked, he corrected himself. “You exhaled on me.”
“Oh,” I said, pleased with myself. “Not bad.”
He finally turned his attention toward the soup. “This doesn’t look good.” He took a fork and started poking at the layer of skin. “You know what this looks like?” It didn’t take me long to get what he was saying. “Yeah, yeah, yeah.”
“Wanna get in there and lick the wrinkles smooth?”
“No.” I said. Then: “You?”
“No way. I’m not into taints.”
At that moment I vowed never to make soup with Samuel again.
