Page 14 of Loving Leo

I scrub a hand down my face and pop another Skittle into my mouth.

Goddamn him.

The popcorn is popped,the empty Skittle bag sitting in the trash can. I ate the last little bit on the way home, stuck a few in my pocket and then pulled them out and savored each one. A moan may have slipped from my lips as well while I navigated traffic. Not that I’ll ever admit it.

Damn guy is going to get me addicted to candy all over again.

It’s going to be a disaster.

Who knows what’s next. Dirty laundry? Eating from dirty dishes? The complete lack of motivation to go to work! I could lose my house, my job. I could lose myself!

I slam the bowl of popcorn down and take a deep, even breath. I tend to always go to the worst case scenario. Everything ends up a catastrophe.

I pop a piece of popcorn in my mouth and chew.

It’ll be fine. It was just a bag of candy and some butter popcorn. It’s not the end of the world.

I settle onto my couch and pick up my phone, noting the missed calls and texts from Lana. I’m in no mood to speak to her. Not at all. Over the past few days I’ve found myself growing more and more annoyed with her. Its not that I’m not ready to speak with her, but that I’m just done with it all. So I swipe at them, hitting the trash icon to delete them for good.

Then my thumb settles over my security program, the one connected to the camera in my office.

Is he in there now?

That little fuck.

I pull it up, clicking on yesterday’s footage, around the time I suspect he was in the office, and see him. I watch him as he sits down in my chair, comfortable as can be. Not a damn care in the world.

Nope. None. He’s totally happy just making himself at home in my office and grinning at me through the camera. Does he have no shame?

Apparently not because soon he’s sitting up, slipping his shirt off over his head as he flirts with the camera. My camera—obviously—but I think probably his too. He’s filming. Recording for his little fans.

It’s disgusting. It really is. I am absolutely disgusted.

I’m so disgusted as he pops the button on his jeans open, that I don’t look away. I need to watch this train wreck. I really do. His fingers stop and don’t go any further to remove his pants. Instead he uses his finger to trail it up through defined abs, up to his pecs and then moves it over one of his nipples. The little nub puckers up under his finger and he leans his head back, biting on his bottom lip with his teeth.

He’s acting like he enjoys this quite a bit, but how can he really enjoy it that much? No one enjoys sex as much as this. It’s all an act. I’m sure of it. Knowing men and women will be watching this later, getting of on it. Just the thought makes my skin break out in a sweat.

I reach up and loosen my tie. It’s kind of hot in here. Leo looks hot too, sweat shimmering on his tan skin. I should make sure the air conditioning is working properly. I’ll call maintenance for the office. I can’t have it hot and disgusting for meetings.

But I don’t pick up the phone, my eyes trained on the screen, watching as he drags his hand back down his stomach and to his jeans. He really shouldn’t be touching himself so much, I think as he lowers his zipper and then wiggles out of the tight denim. He stays in the ridiculous pair of orange briefs though. I mean, who wears that while cleaning offices?

It’s a joke. It has to be. It’s not realistic at all.

I watch as he rubs himself over the satin fabric of his briefs. His dick is hard and the fabric barely covers the size of him. The head pokes out over the top obscenely. I can see that the tip is glistening.

I shift in my seat, my slacks growing tight. I need to turn this off right this instant. It’s not that I’m turned on. I just haven’t had sex in ages and well, it reminds me that Icanget off. That I have two hands and shouldn’t be afraid touse them.

I watch his fingers slide under the briefs, grasping his cock, throwing his head back. His Adam’s apple bobs and his chest heaves.

There’s no way the ecstasy he’s displaying is real. It’s all for show. I just know it. Nothing feels that good. These fools watching him really believe that he’s enjoying himself? Idiots.

Suddenly, his eyes meet the camera, his puffy lips pouting as he teases his followers. Trying to make them believe they can have him. That if they were there with him this is how he would be feeling.

They don’t stand a chance at making him feel good. He knows it and so do I. These sad, pathetic people wouldn’t know what to do with him. He’s insufferable. Probably wouldn’t be pleased unless you’re fucking him so hard he can barely breathe. He needs someone to shut him up.

To shove their cock so far down his throat he’s gagging. He’d love it, being stuffed full. I can see it now. A cock down his slutty little throat, his eyes watering as he swallows around it, whimpering, but he’ll look up with so much raw hunger and need, I’d know he was just fine.

I’d.

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