Page 32 of The Hookup Situation

I grin. “Kept the P going, then?”

“Yep. They’re both retired now. Mom was a nurse. Dad was a mechanic. They were a bit older when they had us so they’re in their sixties now.”

“You talk to them often?”

“Several times a week. It’s honestly a bit much for me sometimes, but Mom especially has a harder time with me being away, and after everything that happened with Phoenix, I can’t be upset about her wanting to know I’m safe.”

My chest squeezes as he shares more about his parents, his little brother, who is so different from him but who he obviously adores, and the family dog who is going on fifteen, and is both blind and deaf, but determined to outlive the rest of the family, and spends her time snoozing by the fire.

He tries to ask about my parents, and if I have any siblings. I deflect the best I can, tell him their names, Joseph and Gloria, that Mom is a wedding planner and Dad is a divorce lawyer, ironically enough, and that I’m an only child, but then bring the conversation back to him.

I’m fairly certain he knows what I’m doing but he doesn’t call me on it, which I am incredibly thankful for.

That night as I lie in bed I can’t get thoughts of Preston out of my head. Not that I’m trying especially hard.

I wonder what it would be like to have parents who checked up on me regularly like Preston said his do, or send me birthday cards in the mail, or text me funny memes or gifs because it’s part of some inside joke that only our family would understand.

Preston’s life isn’t perfect, I know, but despite everything he’s been through, it sounds like heaven to me, to be a part of something that close knit, knowing you have people who love you and care about you. People who support you. Knowing you don’t have to be, or say, or do anything to try and earn their affection. Not constantly wondering if they would have seen you if you had done something differently along the way. If you had chosen a different career path, a different school, a different hobby, or major, had a different wardrobe even, if you would finally be enough. If you had followed in their footsteps would they have been proud of you, been interested enough to call and talk to you? Would none of it have mattered?

I shove thoughts of them aside and focus on him. His laugh, his smile, his eyes, that fucking stupid hat, those gorgeous tattoos. How fucking good he looked tonight on that court, playing his heart out, doing what he loves.

My dick thickens in my black lace panties, which are the only thing I have on right now, and I moan as I reach down and stroke my shaft. I was with Preston all night and we never fucked, but I’m hard in an instant, touching myself to thoughts of him.

Fuck, I want him. His willingness, his eagerness, his beautiful sexy whimpers and moans, his submission.

I grab my phone and take a picture of my very hard cock straining against my panties and text it to him.

Me: Look what you fucking do to me, gorgeous

Ken doll: Shit, Tinkerbell

Me: Do you have any idea how fucking hot you were out there tonight? I was so damn hard watching you.I stroke myself and wait for him to reply. Precum is leaking out and coating my panties now and I take another photo and send it to him.

Ken doll: Jesus, you’re evil

Me: You hard for me, too, doll?

Ken doll: Fuck yes, you’re so fucking gorgeous. Love you in panties. God I want to touch you so bad right now.

Me: Show me

I get a text a moment later and my dick jerks when I see his hand wrapped around his thick, bare cock, precum glistening on the tip. My mouth waters and I suck in a breath. I stroke myself harder, moaning as I do.

Me: So fucking pretty. I want to choke on that perfect cock. Keep touching yourself, beautiful. You’re gonna come for me.

Ken doll: Fuck, Jax, love when you tell me what to do

Me: Grab some lube and lie down. You’re gonna finger yourself for me, gorgeous. Wanna see that pretty hole

A moment later another text comes through and I have to grip my dick to keep from coming at the sight of Preston on his back, one hand gripping his dick, legs spread, and two fingers buried inside him, lube dripping down his ass.

Me: That’s it, you look so fucking good like that, doll. Keep going. You’re gonna film yourself coming and send it to me and I’m gonna jerk off to it, then send you proof of just what you do to me.

I stroke myself leisurely, enjoying the slow build up of pleasure, anticipating Preston’s video. It comes through justa few short minutes later and I open it immediately, my cock hardening as I watch and listen as he pleasures himself, moaning my name. Holy shit this is hot as hell. He fingers and strokes himself at the same time, legs spread and ass on display, whimpering, whining, head thrown back, eyes closed.

“Oh, god, Jax, so fucking good,” I hear, and my cock throbs in my hand as I pick up the pace, fucking my fist. “Oh, shit!” He’s coming hard seconds later and I watch, enraptured as his hole clenches around his fingers, his dick spurting his release all over his chest and stomach. I’m shouting my release before he’s done with his, my body shaking as I fill my panties and it leaks onto my hand and stomach.

I grip my phone in the hand that isn’t sticky with cum, and snap a picture. My panties are soaked in my release and my dick is still semi hard. I pull the panties down so that just the head of my cock is showing, covered in my mess, and send him both photos.

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