Page 48 of The Barkeep and the Bro

He let out a low chuckle, and at first, I thought he was going to call me out and hang up. But a tiny gasp came over the phone line, and I knew he’d done it.

“Are you hard?” I asked.

“Y—yes.”

“Me, too.” I stroked myself over my jeans, making out the imprint of my thick shaft.

“Are you touching yourself, too, Boss?”

“I am. Is there a lock on the bathroom door?”

“Yeah.”

Seconds later, I heard the lock click. My heart pounded in my ears. I was full of heat and need that had lain dormant for too long.

“What next?” he asked.

“Pull down your pants and underwear.” My tongue went thick in my mouth. “I’m going to do the same.”

I also made sure my front door was locked and the shades drawn. I lived on a secluded road, but I wasn’t taking any chances. I plopped into my armchair, my dick heavy between my legs. I put the phone by my crotch so he could hear my zipper open. I unleashed my cock from my pants. It was fully hard, the head red and engorged.

“Are you touching yourself, Charlie?”

“Yes,” he breathed out. “I’m stroking my dick. Are you?”

“Yeah.” I grunted as I jerked my stiff dick. I pressed my eyes shut and imagined Charlie next to me, naked and erect, both of us jacking off. “Fuck, I am so hard.”

“Me, too. I’m so hard, Boss.” His whispers were pleas.

“Good, fratboy.”

“I have an idea,” he said. Better than jerking off together over the phone?

Seconds later, he sent two texts. Both pictures.

My eyes and jaw flew open. Fratboy had a nice dick. Bigger than expected. Goddamn he was hard. I made a promise to myself that I would delete these in the morning, but they would live forever in my memory.

“That’s so hot. If I were there, I would take you in my mouth.”

Was I actually doing this? I couldn’t blame alcohol, not the lone beer I had. I was drunk on something else, a hunger I’d ignored for far too long.

“Spit on your hand,” I commanded.

He did as instructed.

“Stroke yourself.”

“Fuck,” he cried out. “This feels so good.”

“Charlie…” I licked my hand and stroked my hot dick, the slickness sending fire through my balls.

“Oh, my God. Boss.” He had the high-pitched moan of a man on the edge of coming.

“You want to come.”

“I’m so hard. Oh, my God.” His voice was a desperate whisper. The faint hums of party music sounded in the distance.

“I’m going to come, too. I’m going to think of you as I do.”

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