Page 53 of Waiting Game

A part of me hates that I’m doing this. Treating her like those other bastards. But fuck, I’m a weak, weak,weakman.

CalKor: I do

“I wish my tits were around your cock. Don’t you,CalKor?” I wish she’d stop using his username. “You want me to be desperate to come. You want me to beg. I will,” she whimpers,seeming to speed up as she jacks the fake dick off. “Please. I need to come. You’ve got me so hot. I’m so ready to explode. I wish you were here. I wish it were your cock I was jacking off?—”

Like a fool, that does it for me.

The last time I was a two-pump chump, I was back in middle school. I’m almost ashamed of how quickly my cock spurts before I can stop myself. White ropes of thick cum quickly drench my fist, pooling in my Prince Albert piercing as I get off to her pleas.

I grit my teeth as I eke out every last ounce of pleasure and then, and only then, do I type:

CalKor: I’d love to see you on the bed. Watch you come. You earned that pleasure, baby. You worked so hard today.

The words fall off my fingers as I type one-handed.

She complies immediately, leaping onto the bed with a grace and speed that tell me this isn’t the first time she’s done thisandthat she genuinely does want to get off.

It makes this feel more authentic, despite nothing about this being authentic.

Including the bright purple wig she’s wearing.

Rolling onto her knees, face to the mattress, ass in the air, she strokes her clit, moans getting louder and her wails forcing me to adjust the volume.

When she finds her release, my attention veers off course as someone knocks on my door and another guy jumps in the forum:

CaptainGeorgia11: Oh, man, what a way to start the chat!

Fuming, I press ‘mute’ because now that I’m the one caught with his pants down, I have no choice but to deal with whoever’s on the other side of the door.

“Cole?”

Jesus.

“Give me a couple minutes, Colt. I’m using the shitter.”

He grunts. “Come and see me when you’re done.”

Releasing a relieved breath, I watch as Mia sags into the bed I fucked her on yesterday and sigh at the sight.

She’s so beautiful.

Why did she have to betray Gracie?

CalKor: I need to go.

I don’t know how this works. I never had to resort to webcams when I was Callan’s age—half the cheerleading squad was more than willing to take my V-card and to teach me the ways of the pussy promise land—but my message must ding or something because she turns back to look at me.

Her pink ass, complete with handprints, is still pretty much all I can see.

I should have fucked that too.

“There are only so many hours in a night,” I try to console myself.

It doesn’t work.

I know I should log off.

This is weird.

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