[Siren Allure ManLove: Erotic Alternative Romance, M/M, public exhibition, sex toys, HFN]
They say a guy can never be too hung. Well, Harold Jacobs doesn’t know who they are, but they’re wrong. Socially awkward for as long as he can remember, Harold feels his enormous package is just one more thing to be embarrassed about. Especially once hunky and popular Owen McKenzie notices it in the showers.
Owen knows he’s bi, but he keeps that secret close to his chest. He likes Harold, and wants to help him shed his dorky image and maybe even find a boyfriend. Still, Owen can’t stop obsessing about Harold’s equipment. And as much as he doesn’t want to flip-flop on his sexuality, Owen does want to test-drive what Harold has between his legs.
Their friendship erupts into full-blown lust. But can Owen accept the loss of his golden-child status and be Harold’s boyfriend? And can Harold outgrow his insecurity in time to keep the man he loves?
A Siren Erotic Romance
4 STARS: "New installment of the Holsum College series brings us plenty of humor, cute guys and the already familiar hotness quality this author writes in spades. Harold is an extremely shy student whose life has been severely influenced by his physical appearance. Unlike most stories where the 'strange' factor is focused on scars, weight or something equally usual, Harold's problem is in his pants, and it's anything but small. Dressing to hide his size, he's more of a ghost in the halls than someone real, that is until Owen sees him showering one night and decides to help Harold come out of his shell. The beginning of this story had me laughing so hard I had tears in my eyes. It was truly brilliant and made me love this story instantly. Daisy Harris did a great job in showing us just how insecure someone can be and how it can influence his life. I loved Harold and his innocent need to prove himself over and over again. He is one of those characters who deserve only the best and you want that for them from the first page. Now Owen was not my kind of character. He was too flimsy, indecisive and nowhere near good enough for Harold. In fact, that was what I kept thinking the whole while – that Harold deserves better. I thought their story moved too quickly and there wasn't enough detail to show us why Owen was the right guy for Harold and how he helped him be okay with his size. Nonetheless, this is a great addition to the series. It will make you laugh, squirm and blush for all the right reasons and you will come out of it satisfied. I warmly recommend it." -- Valentina Heart, The Romance Reviews
He stared sadly down at the thing jutting between his legs like a saber, water dripping off the tip since he was in the shower. It was hard, as usual. The fucker mocked him like that. He swore his penis enjoyed getting hard all the time just because it made Harold extra awkward every moment of his life.
And Harold didn’t need to be any more awkward. He’d already felt like a social outcast since moving to the US in fourth grade. The last thing he needed was another reason to avoid people.
He heard the bathroom door outside creaking open and held his breath. There was a reason Harold showered at two in the morning.
“Someone in here?” a voice called from the door. Owen McKenzie’s voice, to be precise, and then footsteps sounded as Owen marched into the open bathroom.
Harold’s freshman dorm was one of the few remaining sections of student housing that still had group showers. The tiled showers adjoined the area with bathroom stalls, just like in a locker room. He should have asked for a dorm transfer as soon as he realized he’d have to choose between showering like a vampire or flashing every guy in the dorm his oversized dong.
With a sigh, Harold said, “Yeah. Just me.” He turned to face the showerhead and stepped his legs together so Owen wouldn’t see it swinging like a pendulum between his legs. On the upside, nervousness made his stiffy deflate. On the downside, that didn’t make as much difference in his size as he might have liked.
“Cool. Mind if I join you?”
Of course, Owen went right over to the showerhead across from where Harold was standing and turned on the water. This was a nightmare. Now Owen was going to be staring at Harold’s narrow shoulders and bony butt. If the front of him embarrassed Harold, the backside wasn’t much better. He wasn’t buff like Owen. In fact, he was scrawny by just about any standard.
Maybe his dick took up all the energy he ate, like a rogue parasite in a science-fiction movie. It absorbed all the calories he took in and was slowly starving him to death.
“Late night, huh?” Owen asked.
He was just being friendly. Owen was always like that—friendly and easygoing. Even when Owen had been exhausted all the time from American football in the fall, he’d been one of the nicest guys around. Add to that he was gorgeous, popular, and had a smile that could have been on a toothpaste commercial, and Harold had been lost on him by the first month of school.
Not that it mattered. Owen was so far out of Harold’s league, he might as well have been on Mars.
Plus, like all ridiculously hot and nice guys, he was straight.
“Yeah.” Harold managed to mutter that single word around a tongue that felt like it had grown too big for his mouth. Maybe his cock had joined forces with his tongue, and the two of them were plotting to take over Harold’s body. Growing larger and larger, until one could touch the other.
Don’t get hard. For the love of God, don’t get hard.
“Uh, sorry, man. Did I interrupt you or something?”
If any other guy on the hall had asked that question, he would have spat it with disgust or jeered it with amusement. But no. Owen was too perfect for that. He just said it with a hint of teasing in his voice. As if he’d walked into the bathroom out of one of Harold’s fantasies.
“No.” Harold didn’t seem capable of anything more than one-word answers. But he must have looked like an idiot, or a serial killer, with his shoulders hunched forward and his legs together, facing the white-tiled wall. He was scrubbing his belly hard enough to rub off a few layers of skin. “I’m fine.”
Harold didn’t see any choice but to turn around at least halfway. Soap was running into his eyes from shampoo, and he’d have to rinse it out at some point. He let his body twist to the side—no need to make Owen look at it head-on. And he dipped his head under the shower’s stream.
He kept his eyes closed and pretended Owen wasn’t standing there. His senses seemed hyperaware with his eyes closed. The rich, sweet smell of Owen layered itself on top of the bleachy sting of the bathroom. And even though he worried it might plump his knob, Harold took a deep breath.
“Oh,” Owen said. The way he’d said it—short and surprised—told Harold all he needed to know.
Hopefully Owen wouldn’t be like the kids in high school gym class. He didn’t seem like the type to tease or spread rumors. Harold would be perfectly happy so long as Owen didn’t try to snap a picture of his wang to post on Tumblr.
Reluctantly, he opened just one of his eyes and peeked to where Owen was standing.
Owen blinked. He closed his mouth, swallowing fast. But he didn’t turn around. Instead, he seemed to be mimicking Harold and soaping a hole through the skin of his chest.
“Er, sorry.” Harold looked down, following Owen’s line of sight. He wished it weren’t attached to him, that it was some other guy’s dick, and the two of them could point, and laugh, and maybe nudge each other and murmur, “Damn.”
Especially since it had decided to start rising again, nodding slightly between his legs. Harold would have told his cock, “Fuck you,” if he didn’t think it would make him seem even more insane.
“Nothing to be sorry about.” Owen chuckled mildly. He seemed to have recovered from the initial shock and was back to his typical easygoing self. “Just—I’m sure people tell you this all the time, but—wow.”
“Have you, um, ever tried anything on yourself?” Owen lapped at Harold’s cap. He held his root, stroking up and down soft enough he wouldn’t get Harold off too fast.
“Yeah. Some.” Harold’s words were pants even though Owen was barely touching him.
Owen opened his lips wide and tried to fit them over Harold’s head. It didn’t really fit. Owen could get the head in his mouth but not with enough room to do anything fun with it.
So instead, he just sucked on the underside, right under his slit. He jerked Harold’s cock while he did it, working some spit up and down.
“Omigod.” Harold jerked, twisting in Owen’s hold. “You should do it. I mean, I can’t wait, and…well, I want to come while you’re doing it.”
Holy fuck, the thought of Harold doing that—shooting hard while Owen was inside him—may have been the hottest thing Owen had ever imagined. “Don’t I have to do something first?” He worked his fingers over Harold’s balls, down to his asshole. It was dry when Owen tried to push a finger in, and he saw what Harold meant about lube.
“Hold on a sec.” Harold must have known what Owen was thinking, because he scooted off the bed and walked bare assed to his closet. He dug out a bottle of clear liquid and a packet of condoms. Both unopened.
His face reddened as he handed both to Owen. “I got them when I was at the mall.”
Owen couldn’t stop himself. He launched off the bed and took Harold’s face in his hand and kissed him with everything he had. Even when they weren’t really together and Owen had been being weird and sending mixed messages, Harold had never given up thinking they’d be together.
No. He’d known they’d be together. Even when Owen might have given up.
“I love you, you know that?” Owen wasn’t sure he meant it. Everything had happened so fast, and maybe it was too soon. But he’d never felt this way before. And if it wasn’t the big L, he didn’t want to be in love, because love couldn’t be better than what he felt at that moment.
“No.” Harold shook his head. “I didn’t know that.” His eyes sparkled with dampness, but he pulled Owen down onto the bed with him. And this time, he wasn’t shy at all. He spread his legs and curled his hips up so that Owen’s cock settled alongside his balls.
It felt good. So much that Owen wanted to just put on the condom and start pushing into any hole he could. But Owen reached for the lube bottle and bit open the plastic. He wet his finger and reached under them both to smooth it over Harold’s hole.
“You don’t have to be so careful.” Harold arched his back as if he were trying to get onto Owen’s fingers.
It was a little awkward, and Owen had to twist his wrist a different way. But then he pushed while Harold pressed, and his finger slid in all the way to the hilt.
“Ah, God.” Harold arched more, so that his neck was a graceful, pale column. He looked so pretty with his forehead puckered. Moaning in pleasure while Owen slid slowly in and out.
“Ready?” Owen humped against Harold’s leg. He wanted to give Harold enough foreplay, but he thought his dick might explode if they didn’t get going soon.
Harold’s opening clamped down, strangling Owen’s finger.
“Um…” Harold let out a long breath, like he was trying to relax. His body softened, and his eyes fluttered closed. “Maybe use two fingers first?”
Owen kissed him again. He lined up his fingers close, almost crossing them over one another, and then pressed slowly inside.
He couldn’t imagine what Harold must be feeling at that moment. But by the face Harold made—mouth open and trembling, eyes pinched shut—he knew it must have been freaking intense.
“Does it hurt?” he asked. Owen watched Harold’s face, trying to unravel enjoyment from agony, but he couldn’t figure out where one left off and the other began.
“No.” Harold opened his eyes to half-lidded. “Well, sort of. But I like it, too.”
Owen smiled, keeping up an easy rhythm of his fingers. In and out. “Tell me when.” He pushed deeper, feeling Harold’s body give a little more.
“Okay.” Harold blinked open his eyes. He watched Owen steadily, not breaking that contact even while Owen suited up and swiped lube over the top of the rubber.
“What about you?” Owen asked, falling over Harold but holding himself on one arm. Harold hadn’t said he loved Owen back. And maybe it was like Jack said and Owen just needed everyone to fawn over him. But he didn’t think so. Mostly, Owen really wanted to know.
“I like you well enough.” There was only the tiniest hint of a tease in Harold’s eyes to show he was kidding. Or maybe doing that understatement thing he liked so much.
“I guess that’ll have to be enough.” Owen grinned like an idiot as he gave Harold another kiss. Then, when their lips were an inch apart and he could taste Harold’s breath and feel Harold’s gasps, he pushed forward.