Double Dog Dare You - Lacey Black

Chapter One


Unknown: It was horrible. H-O-R-R-I-B-L-E!

I stare at my phone, at the mystery number I just received a text message from. It’s not completely rare to receive them at nine at night, but it is a little odd to get one from a number not programmed into my phone.

Before I can reply, another message pops up.

Unknown: Why do men feel the need to talk about their penis sizes on a date? On a FIRST date nonetheless.

Color me intrigued, as I glance down at my own naked crotch, a smirk spreading across my face.

Me: Because it’s a favorite amongst all appendages?

Thanks to a freaked out woman at work, I had to shower the moment I got home to wash the vomit off my leg. I toss my wet towel into my hamper and grab a pair of shorts. The entire time, watching for a reply from whoever is on the other end of this chat. I’m already smiling when my device lights up.

Unknown: It’s only a favorite with them. No woman has ever been excited to get a dick pic, Sabrina. None. Ever.

I snort a laugh, my fingers already flying across the screen.

Me: I think you’ve been receiving the wrong pics of dicks then.

I fire it off, a burst of pride sweeping through my body as I preen like a proud papa bear. My dick is glorious, if I do say so myself. Any woman who gets a picture should be honored to receive it. A solid nine inches, thick and straight. A unicorn amongst guys, if you will. Many a lady friend has complimented me repeatedly about how impressive my cock is. You know, screaming my name over and over again.

There’s no greater compliment than multiple orgasms and hollering the Lord’s name.

Unknown: Not true. The dicks worth photographing are all taken or attached to a cocky manwhore, who has every intention of shoving his dick in every vajayjay this side of the Mississippi.

Again, I snort, because she’s not wrong. Guys like me aren’t looking to settle down, at least not yet. We’re having too much fun playing the field, or as my mystery texter said, shoving our dicks into available vajayjays. And let’s be real here. Life is about having fun, living it to its fullest. Why muddy the water with commitment and monogamy?

Take my brother, Rueben, for example. The asshole went to a class reunion last fall as single as you can get, met up with an old friend, and is now engaged to be married. Why? He’s essentially cutting off his own balls and handing them to one woman to carry in her purse for the rest of his life.

I shiver at the thought.

Don’t get me wrong, I like Cricket. A lot, actually. She’s funny and smart and loves to give my brother hell. That alone is a key selling point in her favor. But the one woman thing for the rest of your life? Yeah, not for me.

Me: Variety is the spice of life… *inserts smiling devil emoji*

Unknown: Who are you and what have you done with my BFF?

I almost tell her who I am and that I haven’t done anything to her friend—yet—but I keep it to myself. This is too much fun. Before I can respond, she adds:

Unknown: Anyway, I’m calling it a night. I need to drown my sorrows in tequila and wake up in the morning, pretending this night never happened. Here’s to not remembering this date with Gill.

Gill? Well, no wonder the date sucked with a name like Gill. I can almost guarantee that guy measures in at just under five inches but boasts about a solid sixer. He’s probably a stockbroker or insurance agent to boot.

I focus in on her reference to tequila. The last time I did shooters of it, they were out of the belly button of a petite redhead named Candy, who I met at a tourist bar on Parkway. I live and work in Gatlinburg, in the heart of tourism USA. While I prefer the small dive bars on the nights I’m looking to have a few drinks and be alone, it’s the busy bars and restaurants in downtown that I frequent when I don’t want to be alone. Bachelorette parties, girls’ trips, and divorce celebrations all have one thing in common: single ladies looking for a little no-strings fun between the sheets. Or in the shower. Hell, even against the wall in the VIP bathroom at the club.

That’s where I come in.

Me and my nine inches of