Page 32 of In Plain Sight

I’d already picked up that he liked praise, but how far could I push it?

“Good boy,” I said, testing his limits.

His happy-sounding snuffle was answer enough. He was into this.

Settling back on my pillows, I pressed the heel of my hand against my cock to try and calm down. I was rock hard and aching, and we hadn’t even started.

“Now keep your eyes closed and focus on my voice. Only on my voice. Can you do that?”

“Yes,” he said dreamily.

“I want you to picture me standing next to you. I’m looking down at you. I want you. Do you want me?”

“So much,” he said on a sigh.

“Put your hand on your cock. Over your clothes,” I added. “Pretend it’s my hand. Do you want me to touch you?”

“Yes.”

“Stroke yourself, but only ten times.”

“Ten?”

“Yes. Count them out for me.”

“One, two, three…”

I listened as he counted out the ten strokes. It might seem like a strange request, but it was a way to test his willingness to obey my commands.

“Did that feel good?” I asked when he was done.

“Yeah. I want more.”

“I gently pull your sweats down. What do you do?”

“I lift my hips so you can get them off.”

“Are you wearing underwear?”

“Yes.”

“I take those off too. Do you like that?”

“Yes.”

“How about you do that for me now? Take them both off.”

More rustling came over the line, then stopped.

“They’re off.”

“Would you like to take your shirt off for me?”

“Yeah.” The line went quiet, and then the scrape of material over the microphone came over the line as he picked the phone back up. “It’s off.”

“Are you naked?”

“Mostly.” He huffed out a soft laugh. “I still have my socks on.”

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