Page 48 of In Frame
“What you said…a bit rougher…holding, touching, squeezing a bit…tugging…”
“Hmm.” Sam thought this over. He had a couple of ideas. He was pretty sure, from the last time—from everything they’d done—that Leo wasn’t into the specifically masochistic side as much as into overall intensity and stimulation, but wasdefinitelyup for those last two. Which was perfect, because Sam himself wasn’t big on causing pain for partners. But he did like making Leo feel…well, everything. “You want to try something for me? Spread your legs more. Opened up. Wide.”
“All right…”
“I want you to give your balls a little tap. Nice and light, not too hard, just a tap with your hand, but enough that you feel it. Let me hear you.”
Leo audibly swallowed, but didn’t argue. And followed the order.
Sam heard the sound of it, hand against vulnerable flesh. And then the sound of Leo’s gasp, and several breathlesstumbling four-letter words, extra-filthy somehow in that history-laced accent.
“Did that feel good?”
“I—I—” Leo panted, gathered more words, retorted, “I just about came, right then, I’ll have you know. I only didn’t because I thought perhaps you didn’t want me to, yet.”
“And that made you stop?”
“That sounds too deliberate, but sort of? More like a feeling. Swimming around in my head. You telling me I’d been good, I’d got it right, if I behaved myself for you. Or not, if I hadn’t.”
“But you liked that? Doing that. And thinking it.”
“I never knew I did, but it seems I do. What else don’t I know? What sorts of things can you do with my anatomy?”
Sam paused to muffle a laugh. Christ. Moderately kinky phone sex with Leo Whyte, squarely in the middle of an upheaval that could change his life, and he was laughing.
The world shone. The evening blazed with color, sunset and lamplight. His old straightforward bed and dresser and thoroughly squished pillow perked right up again, and even creaked in encouragement.
He was alight with emotion. Alive with it. “I can do a lot with your anatomy, Leo. Got a lot to show you. For now…grab your lube. Keep your legs spread. You’re gonna play with your hole for me, get fingers in there, okay? But not just yet. Back behind your balls, first. Your taint. Just touch yourself, let it feel good, rub at it, maybe give that a little tap too, or more than one. Not hard, again, we’re not gonna hurt you. Just get you all ready, all warmed up and sensitive.”
Leo did as instructed. And began moaning, as the sounds carried across. Sam could picture him: flushed and wide-eyed and trembling, pinkened all over, cock upright, hands obedient to command and pleasure and a hint of erotic pain.
He said, “Tell me how hard you are. I am. All hard and hot, leaking a little for you to lick up, picturing you doing all this for me.”
“Oh God,” Leo said, “yes, yes, please…Iam, I’m so…I never even thought…I’m soclose, my cock hurts, I’m dripping all over myself, I’m not even touching myself there, how did you evendothis to me, what thefuck, Sam,” and the indignance and the pleading and the enthusiasm burst and flooded the evening like thunder, like rain, like a cleansing of the world.
So perfect. So exactly right. Sam tried not to laugh more, couldn’t help it—too happy—and said, “Sorry? But you like it. Go ahead and open yourself up. Your hole. With your fingers. Enough lube so it doesn’t hurt, please.” He figured he might need to add that last part, if Leo enjoyed and wanted to push the roughness.
Leo just moaned, all long and liquid, which meant that’d felt excellent, and also made Sam’s cock jump and pulse and spill some shining fluid over the tip.
He said, “Good. You’re so good, Leo—you know that, right? You always are. But right now, like this…doing everything I say, trusting me…you’re being so good. I want you to know that. What’re you doing now?”
“Fingers,” Leo whispered. “Two. In—in me. So slippery and tight and it feels…I feel as if…it’s almost full enough. It’s not you. I need more. I—I like…”
“You like what?”
“You talking to me,” Leo admitted, sincere and unconcealed. “Being pleased with me. I like that.”
“Me too. And I am pleased with you. So proud of you, Leo.” Too much? Maybe. But Leo let out a soft whimper of pleasure, and that went straight down Sam’s spine and pooled in his balls and gathered gold and imminent at the base of his cock.
He said this time, “Move your fingers. Find that sweetspot for me, just the way I did for you, okay? Make yourself feel it. Imagine it’s me if you want. My hand right there, my fingers in you, moving inside you…”
“You are,” Leo agreed promptly, if somewhat hazily. “Your hand, your fingers…not mine…they’re yours in any case, however you want me to use them…oh.Oh.” All the words stopped for a second.
“So you found it. Just keep those fingers still for a sec. Right where they are. No moving.”
Leo actually swore at him again, colorful and cheerful and euphoric. “I’m lying here with my fingers in myself and my balls throbbing and my cock possibly literally wanting to explode. If you tell me to stop I’ll scream. Or cry.”
“But you’d do it, wouldn’t you?”
