The sound of a notification resonates loudly in the apartment, the only other noise coming from the television. I look at Mitch's phone, pretty sure it was his device that chirped with an incoming text. The look doesn't last more than a spare second, before I turn my focus on the screen, the Family Guy episode capturing my interest once again, the notification already forgotten. He will look it as soon as he'll be done with his shower.

Except that the phone rings again. And again. It's after the fifth annoying sound that I roll my eyes, unable to resist any longer. I pause the episode, already frustrated with whoever is trying to reach for him, not taking the obvious not looking at the phone hint.

"Mitch!" I call, loud enough for him to hear me, "someone's texting you!"

I stay silent, listening as the sound of the water stops, then it takes a couple of seconds before I hear the sound of the glass door of the shower opening, then his muffled voice coming from the bathroom. "What did you say?" He basically screams, and I would like to yell back Shut up it's fucking 2am!, but that would only increase our chances of getting noise complaints

I sigh, throwing my head on the back of the couch. "Your phone won't stop going off!" How I wish it was me going off tonight, though. Wait, I'm being jealous over a phone. Holy hell I need fucked, soon.

"Oh." It's all I can hear coming from him, then silence for a couple of minutes. I figure he just went back to his shower, or to put on all the different products of his night time routine, so I restart the episode, the adventures of the Griffin family capturing me. It's not long before his voice is distracting me once again.

"Can you see what it is?"

Another sigh leaves my mouth, something that happens quite a lot while being around Mitch. I love the boy to pieces, I really do, but sometimes he annoys the hell out of me - of course, I know that I do the same with him, so I guess we balance each other pretty well. We always have.

Honestly, if it was any other time I would reply with a simple Do it yourself bitch, and the snarky comeback is already on the tip of my tongue before I swallow it back, deciding that for this time he deserves this small favor. He did ask nicely, after all. I shift from my comfort place on the couch to reach his phone on the coffee table, careful to hold the device properly as I unlock the screen. My eyes shift on the top of the screen, where the notification bar is, spotting the Grindr icon next to a series of messages from an unfamiliar name. Colton.

I didn't know he downloaded it again, I think as my thumb tap once on the messages to open the chat. To someone this might look as an invasion of Mitch's privacy, but we are so close that we basically have no boundaries. Every time one of us is looking at something on the phone, the other would look without asking for permission. We don't hide things from each other - well, I used to, until yesterday. But we're back on our all-honesty track, now, and everything is great. Well, everything except my lack of enjoyable fucks, but nothing new about it.

"It's Colton!" I yell back, and the only reply I can hear is an annoyed huff - or maybe he's just trying to find one of his numerous night masks, who the hell knows.

My focus goes back to the phone. One of the messages was actually a pic sent from this unknown guy, and a part of me is thankful that there was no nudes, but seeing how attractive the guy is, part of me is also a bit disappointed. My eyes skim over his features, his nice chiseled jaw, the very sculpted chest and those hands...well damn.

You know what they say? Big hands usually carry around big packages. And yeah, his hands look large enough to hold something very,very big. Yummy.

Okay, I know that I shouldn't lust over a boy that Mitch is probably getting his way with, but this girl is thirsty, and Colton looks like he could be a very satisfying glass of water. Or juice. Yes, delicious, refreshing juice. Even better. So yes, I'm fantasizing about Mitch's guy, but in my defense I have to say that given his reaction to his name, and the fact that he hasn't told me about him, it doesn't seem like he would even care, so shush, don't give me that look.

I'm not very accustomed with the app, never have been a fan in the first place, but it's not hard to find the Saved Photos bit in the chat options, and I don't know about you, but my eyes really need to be blessed, And boy, are they already getting blessed. I don't know why Mitch doesn't like the guy, but this girl likes what she sees. A lot.

I scroll through the - not many - photos, mostly selfies, and I'm almost wondering about putting the phone back on the coffee table and stop looking at this stranger when I see it. My hands almost drop the device on the floor, suddenly feeling like it's burning up, my mouth hanging open because holy fucking shit on a stick that can't possibly be real.

"Mitch what the fuck?!"

That's the only thing I can say, my brain not able to process as my eyes zero in on the picture on the screen, palms already sweating. I think I'm having a mystical experience, maybe facing a miracle, because only something like that would make this true.

The picture I'm unashamedly staring at is a gorgeous shoot of the most perfect cock I've ever seen in my entire life. The photo is obviously amateurish, only one hand in sight as the other was probably busy capturing this work of art, but let me tell you. In addition to the hand firmly gripping this perfectly shaped dick, long fingers wrapped around thick skin, there's enough space to fit at least another one. Maybe another one and a half. And that hand doesn't seem small AT ALL.

I would like to thank whoever is out there for how close the camera was, because even with the bad lighting of the photo, you can clearly distinguish not only the dimension of it - which is, of course, the first thing that I noticed. Every single detail is perfect. The tip is round and large, if I look close enough I can see a bid of fluid coming out from the slit - and if my brain works hard enough I can imagine it sliding over the protruding vein that look like it's about to explode.

Really, my mouth is watering just thinking about tracing it with my tongue. I bet I could easily choke on this cock - and what a nice way to go that would be.

I barely hear Mitch rushing from his bedroom into the living room, breath labored as he throws the door open. I've already forgotten that I called him, every single brain cell still trying to understand how all that goodness can exist.

"What is it, a spider? A burglar? Beyoncé releasing a new album?!"

I barely acknowledge the panic in his voice, although the last line makes me roll my eyes at him, before they go back to drink every detail I can take from the photo. To be honest, I would take everything about it. Not even picky.

"Earth to Scott, what the hell you screamed for? And what are you doing with my phone?"

Unable to voice my shock properly, I simply turn the phone towards him so he can see. He squints his eyes, not really being able to distinguish what's on the screen without his glasses, so he takes a couple of steps towards the couch. I notice how he's barely dressed, hair tilted back by a hairband, hands wet, probably because he washed them in a hurry to come see what my problem was. Well, right now a problem is starting to surface in my pants.

"What -" he starts, before his mouth too hangs open and eyes go wide, perfectly matching my reaction and - I'm sure - every single man who ever had the pleasure to lay their eyes on this incredible Mother Nature's creation.

It looks like he's out of words as his mouth opens and closes repeatedly, as if he's trying to find the words to properly explain to me why he has never once mentioned that he had this porn worthy material in his hands - yes, pun intended.

I don't give him much time, deciding to bring up the subject by myself. "How dare you? Yesterday I was complaining with you about my problem and you didn't tell me you knew someone who could help me with it?"

He doesn't reply, just try to grab the phone from my hand, his face paler than ever, but I'm already missing the view of that long shaft, so I take it out of his reach. He stumbles on as he tried to climb on the couch to get it back, his hands shooting to firmly grip the loose pants hanging low around his hips. "Give it back!"

I choose to ignore him, my lower brain taking over everything else. "Like, damn, I knew the saying "big hands, big gems" but this is way beyond my wildest dreams." I look up at him then, the grip around the device tightening. "I need to meet him, please."

I don't even care that I sound desperate because, hello, that's what I am. Very desperate, and very very needy, and I feel like I might just explode if now that I know that the man of my dream is close, I can't get to know him. This will haunt my fantasies from now on, I can feel it. Well actually, no, I wish I could feel it.

"Scott, give me my phone back, this is extremely weird."

"No, please, who cares?!"

"Scott!!"

"Can you at least send me the pic?"

"Are you fucking serious right now?!"

His voice is even higher, obvious sign that he's either embarrassed or upset, so after one last longing look at the cock of my dreams, I hold his phone out for him to take it back. Mitch's face is still drained from any color, except his cheeks, which right now are a blaring pink. I don't get what he's so ashamed of - we've all had our fair share of dick pics in our phones, am I right?

"You look like a child whose favorite toy got taken. Stop that." He scolds me, his fingers gripping the phone tight as if I'm about to jump on him to reclaim it - which, I admit, it's something I thought about for at least a couple of seconds.

"Oh Mitchy, I would love to play with that toy for sure."

"You're so gross!" He almost screams, his cheeks even redder than before, eyes closing in embarrassment as he cover his ears with his hands. I would laugh at his childlike behaviour if my blood wasn't still gathered south, clouding everything else.

"Pleaaaase Mitch, I'll do whatever you want! Just..give me his number, I'm begging you!"

His eyes slowly open to look at me. I can't read his expression, or why he's biting his bottom lip in hesitation. Oh no, does he actually like him? God, please, no. I will never ask you help with anything else, ever, but please don't let me lust after a guy who Mitch is actually interested in. I could never forgive myself.

"Uh, I don't.. uhm. I don't think that's possible."

"Why?" Yes, I'm being annoying. Listen, you don't have to tell me, you have to tell my cock already half hard just thinking about getting some fun. I'm not the one in charge right now.

He fidgets with his hands, his eyes roaming the room but never staying on me. "He's.. uh, not from Los Angeles actually."

Does he really think I'm so stupid?! I cross my arms over my chest,raising an eyebrow at him - they might be very pale, but they're still there and doing their job, thank you very much. "Okay, I might not be a Grindr expert but I know that it works with your location, so cut the bullshit."

He bites his lip again, clearly frustrated that I know he lied. The fear that he actually likes the guy is cutting its way inside me even more. "Still, not a good idea."

"Why? Do you..do you like him?" I finally asks, deciding that it's better to know before I keep making a fool of myself.

"Oh no, God, no. He's just, uhm.." he interrupts himself again, his eyes shifting quickly as if to search the words that he's trying to say. "He's an asshole, okay? I don't want you to get hurt."

His worry is cute, but unnecessary. I chuckle at his reply, patting his leg with my hand. "Babe, thank you but it's not like I want to marry the guy. I'll be perfectly okay with just a night with him, you know? Or, like, even five minutes. I bet I wouldn't last very long with that hammer pounding inside me."

His hands shoot to cover his ears back again, like a teenager who doesn't want to hear his parents talk about sex. "Stop, stop!"

"As of getting hurt, maybe I wouldn't mind. You know, there are some bruises that are veeeery enjoyable. You know what I mean?" I grin, ignoring his uneasiness.

"Scoooooott!!" He whines, eyes still closed in a painful expression.

"Like, if it means not being able to walk the next day because I'm sore after an amazing night of that dick making me see stars, I wouldn't complain at all."

"Will you fucking stop?!"

"Oh my god what is your problem, since when are you such a prude?"

"Scott that's me!!"

His scream is followed by a heavy silence, my mouth hanging open as my brain registers what he just said. His eyes are wide and shining with frustration, his breath troubled as he pants to regain the air released with his yell. I try to say something, before biting my lips, the meaning behind his words setting warning bells in my brain.

"You're kidding." It's the only thing I can say, too shocked to even consider the possibility that he's telling the truth.

"Do you think I would joke about something like this?!"

There's no way, absolutely no way in hell that he's serious. My Mitch, my best friend, my family. It's impossible for me to compare his many aspects with the idea of him having exactly what I need. To think that for all these years I struggled to find the perfect well-endowed man and it has always been right here by my side?

Suddenly, the picture pops in my mind, uncalled. Before I can even understand, Mitch's face replaces Colton's, and it's his face that I picture while grabbing that majestic shaft. Not even realizing it, my eyes travel from his eyes to his abdomen, and then lower, to the bulge covered by the thin cotton pants that he's wearing. My mouth suddenly waters as my brain realizes that those pants might be covering the object of all my desires.

My gaze go back to his face, looking in his eyes, dark and wide. "Show me."

****

Uuuuuh I'm on fiyaaaaah. This hasn't been edited, so excuse any mistake or any weird paragraphs - I really need a distraction from tomorrow's exam, so that's it.

I'll be back as soon as possible aaaaand I hope you like itttttt