Page 11 of In Plain Sight

“I’m picturing it.”

“Do you like what you see?”

I had no idea what Nice’s face looked like, but imagining his strong body in front of me was hot, and my dick perked up.

“Yes.”

“Rub your hand over your cock.”

I did as he said. The scrape of my briefs moving over my skin sent a shiver of awareness through me, and I was rock hard in seconds.

“Does that feel good?” he asked softly, his voice a sexy purr that hit me right in the chest.

“Really good.”

“Good. Now I want you to stroke yourself. Don’t pull your dick out. Just stroke under your clothes.”

I slipped my hand into my briefs and gripped my cock. “I’m stroking.”

“Are you hard for me?”

“So hard.”

“Are you leaking?”

“Yeah.”

“Taste yourself.”

I paused. Why was that command so hot? I had no issues swallowing, and it wasn’t like I hadn’t tasted myself before, but I wasn’t into cum play. At least I didn’t think I was.

“Is that too far?”

“No,” I said quickly. “That was just really hot.”

“Yeah?” He sounded pleased. “Then how about you go ahead and do that for me.”

“Okay.” I swiped my finger over my slit, then lifted my hand to my mouth.

My taste exploded on my tongue, and I let out an embarrassingly loud groan.

“Pull your dick out.”

Shifting on the couch, I slid my sweats down until my cock sprang free. “It’s out.”

“Now I want you to picture me on my knees in front of you.”

The faceless man in my fantasy sank to his knees. I spread my legs involuntarily, like I was making room for him to move closer. My pants pulled tight around my thighs, reminding me that I was alone.

Jesus, this guy was good. We’d just started, and I was already zoning out of reality and desperate for it.

“Do you like that? Me on my knees for you?”

“Yes.” I gripped my cock and gave it a long, slow stroke.

“Are you touching yourself?”

“Yes.”

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