Page 37 of Reckless On Ice

He sends me a photo in front of a window from a side chair I always think of as the cuck chair you’d find in any upscale hotel room, his abs bunching and his cock jutting out of joggers he’s pushed down his hips.

HotnHandsy: I was doing yoga before I messaged. Limbering up, I guess haha you should see my happy baby pose, it’s incredibly suggestive. Well, a lot of poses are.

HandyManCan: I just looked up happy baby and fuck me sideways. The things I would do to get you in that pose. I’d tear you up. You’d be my happy baby.

I groan. There’s thatbabyagain. Why does it do something to me to have him call me that? I hit the video call button so fast. He answers just as quickly. My voice is low and raspywhen I speak.

“You are a dirty, dirty man to defile yoga for me. I’ll never be able to get through a class with a straight face or without thinking of your cock again,” I say quickly, smoothing my thumb over the head of my cock that is leaking precum at the thought. To be on my back, feet in the air, thighs pressed back against my chest and this man’s cock driving into my ass? The thought sends tingles racing along my spine.

“I think I have to take up yoga. I could use the flexibility, and if it’s gonna have me learning new poses I could use in the bedroom, it will be extra beneficial,” he says, the deep timbre of his voice caressing me through the screen. It feels like velvet and steel, soft but unyielding, like him.

His hand lazily shuttles along his big cock, and I bite my lip, watching through the screen. I love the size of him and how he looks with his fist wrapped around that girth. This is what I can imagine Knox looks like. The thought has my dick jumping in my hand, throbbing painfully as pleasure rockets through me unexpectedly.

“Uh, yeah, yoga is good. You have an incredible body, though, so I don't think you’re skipping the gym. I appreciate what you’ve done with whatever it is you do. You gonna come on those perfect abs for me, Big Sexy?” I growl, needing to see him come apart for me again.

“You’re training me to be a two-pump chump with how fast I want to come when I see you. It’s a problem,” he says, voice sounding strained and a bit breathy. Good. I want him pathetic and needy for me.

“Did you fuck your fist thinking of me?” I ask.

“Yes,” he breathes, the single word sounding like a plea for more of me, and I fucking love it.

“You poor, pathetic thing. Did you come hard every time, but not as hard as when I talked you through it?”

“God, how do you do that? How do you know exactly what you do to me? Fuck,” he groans, his strokes speeding up.

“Did you need me and my fat cock to get you there the way you wanted?”

I’m stroking my cock at the same rhythm he is, and it feels so good, even without any lube, but damn I need something. I stop and spit in my hand, not about to get up and find lotion when I have this fucking beautiful specimen of a man to watch. He groans and passes his palm over the head of his cock and gathers the slickness there with a few pumps before he goes back to the top of his shaft with short, hard strokes.

“Yeah, baby, I did. I needed to see this. Squeeze harder, I want that cock milked for me.”

Holy shit. His comment goes to my balls that retract, and I grunt, staving off the urge to come, but just barely. I squeeze the way he instructed, and stars explode behind my eyelids before I can pry them open to watch him again. The back-and-forth we have is amazing. One minute I’m in charge, watching him fall apart for me, the next, he’s crumbling me with a single word.

“Show me how bad you want me. Give me that cum all over those pretty abs you work so hard for, Big Sexy,” Isay, heart racing. “Tell me you want me when you come.”

Why is it so much easier to ask for this when I’m faceless, on an anonymous hookup app, but know it’s exactly what I want to say to Knox? The thought of Knox and his big body pressing me into the wall, his lips on mine demanding my truths and showing me what I can have if I just admit it and come clean, has my release coiling at the base of my spine, my breaths coming in pants as this stranger who feels so close matches my furious strokes.

“Fuck, baby, I want you so bad. Fill me up, give it to me, please,” he groans, cum spilling over his fingers and onto those defined abs in thick ropes.

My response is a strangled “Oh, shit, yes,” as I come all over my stomach in violent spurts that drain me.

But it’s Knox’s face I see. Knox’s hands I wish were on the screen. Knox’s body covered in cum. My cum. The instant slide into a post-nut low is steep and harrowing, sending me careening past enjoyment and relaxation and straight into freak-out territory. My hands shake, and my breathing goes shallow and desperate.

“Hey, you okay?” HandyMan asks gently.

How do I tell him I’m thinking about my best friend? I can’t admit to my online hookup the way I feel when his face isn’t the one that I imagined while coming just now. This stranger on the internet doesn't want to know I'm thinking about someone else. He doesn't need my shit heaped on him when he’s looking for some harmless fun.

“Fine.” I gasp. “Just in my head.” But my chest is tight, and Knox’s disappointed face right before he turned and left me in the hallway at the club keeps flashing in my mind.

“Talk to me, baby. Just let it out, whatever it is,” he says softly, the words exactly what I need to hear.

“My friend,” I start, fighting to keep my voice lower despite the anxiety clawing at me. “The one I told you I hurt a long time ago, and is back in my life now with work?”

“I remember,” he says, reassuring and calm, his phone trained on the mess on his abs and his softening cock that is still far too big. God, I want to put it in my mouth and feel it harden again.

“I think I messed it up even more. I might have feelings for him, but I’m not even sure I’m gay.”

“Baby, I’m gonna say this gently, but firmly, because it’s not the first time I’ve been through this.” His voice is tired as he pulls up his joggers and grabs a tissue to take care of the mess on his stomach. Once he’s situated again, he continues. “Maybe you're not gay, but you’re not straight if you’re coming with me, even in secret. You’re probably bi, and there’s nothing wrong with that. You can like and get off with anyone you want. It doesn't change who you are. You're still hot as hell and a good person if you’re worried about what happened with your friend in the past and how to fix it now.”

---