Page 9 of Call Me Sir

He’s so close my dick accidentally jabs his nice pants. Those are way too nice to get a precum stain on.

His proximity and radiating sexuality does not help my raging boner and it twitches against him accidentally.

“Shit, sorry.”

He’s looking at my lips. “Don’t apologize unless you’ve really fucked up.”

His words make my throat spasm. I want him to kiss me.

“Touch me,” I say instead. It’s not romantic in any sense but it activates him. Any previous hesitation is completely tossed aside.

Without looking his one arm reaches out and closes the door and locks it. Then he faces me and watches me, waiting for me to say something.

I’m surprised by what comes out.

“Were you jealous?”

I don’t clarify. He doesn’t need it.

Bracing the wall on either side of me, he leans down and lets out a long breath.

“Yes.”

Fuck.

The need to be touched burns and I can’t help but buck my hips.

“Is this what you want?” Ever so gently his hand grazes my dick, caressing the air around it.

My hands are at each side and I dig my fingertips into the tile grout.

“Yes,” I answer in a shaky breath.

His soft lips graze mine. “This is highly inappropriate.”

I nod. For so many reasons this is wrong. But I don’t care. I want him to grab a handful of me. I want him to get on his knees and suck me.

“Touch me!” I plead, bucking my hips so my dick touches more of his firm, thick hand.

What those meaty hands could do to me.

“What made you so hot and bothered in the first place?”

Normally, talking when we could be fucking, would irk me. However, this is insanely hot.

“Those damn muscles,” I say without thinking.

His wry grin causes goosebumps to blossom across my skin.

“And what would you want me to do with these muscles? With these hands?”

A little moan leaves my mouth picturing what he could do.

“Be explicit,” he commands.

“I want your finger up my ass.”

My words hang in the air and I’m ready to feel ashamed or embarrassed. Instead, the greedy pleasure consuming his eyes eggs me on.

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