Page 95 of What About Us
“Mm… Talk to me, Huddy,” I breathe out. Pushing away my embarrassment at me masturbating for my best friend, I click on my trusty bullet, cranking it up to high.
His eyes widen imperceptibly, and I don’t have to wonder if he can hear the vibrations over the phone. “Are you still wet?”
“Dripping.” I pant when I press the bullet to my clit.
“For me?” he rasps out.
“Only for you.”
“Fuck,” he whispers, his voice sounding strained. “Let me see it, Jameson. On your fingers. Show me how wet you are.”
His use of my last name again is impersonal, his tone demanding and full of need. And it’s hot as hell. It’s brought us back to that forbidden area of almost. It feels different from when he used my first name earlier. I loved that—the intimacy it brought to him putting his mouth on me. If we’dnot been interrupted, I have no doubt it would have been a slow-burn, white-hot, and soul-shattering moment. And while what we’re doing is still extremely intimate, it’s the thought of a hot, quick one-off with someone you shouldn’t want that is such a turn on.
Palming the vibrator, I push two fingers through my center, and then bring my fingers up to the camera. He groans.
“I wanna taste you, again. Tell me how you taste.”
I suck my fingers into my mouth and moan. I’ve never tasted myself before. My God, I’ve never masturbated with someone watching. But Hudson makes me feel so wanted, my inhibitions are almost nonexistent.
“Goddamn,” he says, voice low.
I have no idea why I feel so shy asking, considering I just sucked my arousal off my fingers for him, but my voice comes out sort of low and shaky. “Are you touching yourself, Huddy?”
His voice comes out deep and a bit strained. “No.”
“Don’t you want to?”
“Fuck yes,” he breathes.
I bite my lip and grin. “Do it. Let me see you.”
Surprisingly, he doesn’t hesitate. Immediately, he shifts, propping his phone against something on the bed. Then, he pulls the front of his shorts down, palming his cock through his boxers. The veins in his forearm and hand stand out with the movement and are almost as nice of a view as the giant bulge he’s rubbing.
He squeezes and then runs his hand along the length of it before pulling his boxers down, just under his sack. He puts his thumb against it, holding it in place, before running his fingers up his shaft—up over the head and back down. I honestly don’t know where to focus my eyes. There is so much real estate to take in.
“Holy shit,” I moan, pressing the vibrator to my clit. “Your cock is perfect.”
A low rumble of a chuckle meets my ears. “Listen to you, Jameson. Fuck. Your little moans are just a warm-up, aren’t they? When I finally have you alone and on my cock, buried so deep inside you, I’ll have you screaming my name.”
“Mm, Huddy. Keep talking. Tell me more,” I beg.
“Then get to work on that pussy, Finnley, and let me hear you come. Can you do that for me, pretty girl?”
“Mm, fuck,” I pant out, relishing in this new nickname, while watching him work himself over.
His strokes are slow and deliberate, just like they were that day in the shower. His grip is firm, the muscles of his forearm standing out. It’ssohot. He flips his hand over and switches to a tugging motion, his thumb brushing the dark hair at the base of his cock on each down stroke. A bead of precum appears at the tip and my mouth waters, longing to taste him.
My eyes wander up his chest, where his other arm is behind his head, and I so badly wish I could run my fingers over his pecs; wish I could smell his skin, his cologne, anything. I’m already so damn close. I won’t last long. I can already feel that delicious tingle building at the base of my spine, a tug sparking to life low in my belly.
“I thought of you coming on my tongue that day, straddling my face, riding me, soaking me,” he grits out. “Will you sit on my face for me, Finnley? Fuck my mouth with your perfect, rosy cunt?”
His words wash over me and I shatter, my climax catching me completely off guard. Goosebumps race over my skin, my thighs shake, and my chest heaves as he works his cock. His abs clench and his fist tightens toward his tip, his strokes short and fast, until thick ribbons of cum pulse out of him and down his hand. Wave after wave of my orgasm hits me as I watch, and I fight to catch my breath.
I click off the vibrator and leave it tucked in my panties, too spent to move. Seconds later, his face fills my screen, hazel eyes hooded and a lazy smile on his face.
I let out a breathy laugh, head turned on the pillow. It’s quiet for a few minutes while he shifts, grabbing a few tissues to clean himself up. When he comes fully back into view on the screen, he turns onto his side and his handsome face is all I can see.
“Still sad about having to jerk off tonight?” I tease.
