Page 24 of Swiped By My Dad's Best Friend
I scrambled out of the rest of my clothes, my cock hard and already moist at the tip. It smacked my navel, then bobbed in space as I stood, uncertain what to do next. My limbs trembled with nerves, skin prickling at the thought of Trace watching through the phone camera.
“Get some lube and get comfortable,” Trace said, voice gentler now.
I crawled onto the bed, scooting back against the headboard. I propped two pillows behind me, before retrieving the lube to slick my hand. I tried to find a sexy pose, half reclined against the pillows, but it was questionable how enticing Trace’s view was as I climbed around while holding my phone in one hand.
“Let me see your cock. Stroke it.”
I angled my phone screen downward, feeling more exposed than I ever had in my life. I’d never been much for sexting beyond a quick photo if a hookup requested it. I usually just met up with a guy to get off.
Not an option with Trace so far out of reach.
I grasped my cock, giving it a nice, slow stroke. The coolness of the lube made me tense, but the pressure of a fist around my cock felt incredible. My eyes slipped closed as the pleasure washed through me. I stroked again, and again, squeezing tighter.
“Scoot down and spread your legs a bit more. I want to see your hole. Want to imagine sinking my fat cock inside it. You want that, brat?”
I gave a strangled moan at the thought of it. I’d only been fantasizing about Trace pinning me down and taking me hard for most of my life.
He chuckled. “Maybe right after a spanking to put you in your place, hmm? Your skin would be all red, hot and stinging, and you’d feel every thrust inside and out.”
“Yes,” I gasped, my climax rising like a tide at the dirty talk. “Please, Daddy.”
“Damn it,” he growled. “Wish you had both hands free to give yourself all the pleasure I’d give you. I’d have you plow two fingers into your ass at the same time you stroke off so I could hear the sounds you make when you’re getting fucked.”
His words made me crave being filled like never before. I wanted him, but short of that, I wantedsomethingto stretch me, make me burn and yield to the pleasure.
“I have toys,” I admitted.
“Do you?” He sounded intrigued. “Next time. I’m too close.”
That caught my attention. I’d been so focused on Trace’s words to me, on the pleasure—and need—consuming me, that I hadn’t even thought about what he was doing. “Can I see?”
“Not this time,” he said. “This is all for me, you understand?”
I shivered. “Yes.”
Even though I was disappointed, I also loved this role, performing for him. I was the center of his attention, and Trace’s focus was intense. Maybe it was my imagination, but I could feel his heated stare—even through a phone camera. Every inch of my body prickled at the thought of him examining the length of my cock, weighing my balls with his gaze, salivating at the clench of my hole.
Even without the added stimulus of the extra touches I’d usually give myself—the pinches to my nipples, the tug to my balls—I was on the edge in no time. Trace’s words, the pictures he painted, were more than enough to test my limits.
My body coiled with tension as my hand stroked harder. “Fuck, I need to—can I—”
“Come for me,” he said.
The second he gave me the okay, I exploded into orgasm. Cum erupted from my cock, striping my stomach, and my entire body shuddered as all that tension gave way to blissful release.
I groaned so loudly half the frat house probably heard me, but I didn’t care. We’d all gotten used to hearing each other wank and fuck through the thin walls. What the fuck ever.
My own ragged breathing filled my ears, then my eyes popped open at the sound of a deep groan. I yanked the phone up in time to see Trace’s face twisted with pleasure. I watched as the tension in his body relaxed and his eyes opened.
“Good boy,” he murmured.
I grinned like a loon. “Good Daddy,” I shot back cheekily.
He laughed. “Did you like that?”
“Wish I could have seen more,” I said, a little bummed I hadn’t gotten a view of his cock.
“So greedy.”
