“Oh.” His fingers tighten, then quicken their pace. “I missed that sound. Do it again.”
“Kick the sheet off and plant your feet on the bed,” I say instead. The camera jostles with his sharp intake of breath.
“Mmm. Bossy Byrd. You know how hard that makes me.” His thumb swipes over his crown as he follows my instructions, and I free my own leaking dick from my briefs.
“I missed that sexy cock of yours,” I confess.
“It missed you too. Look at how it weeps for you.”
“I see it. What are you imagining right now, dirty boy? Tell me what you missed. Am I tonguing the precum from your slit and teasing that thick vein running down your cock? Or am I taking you straight to the back of my throat?”
“Jesus.” He arches into his hand, hips thrusting off the mattress, and pumps furiously, breath ragged in my ears.
“Do you miss the way my hair spills over all that sensitive skin while I swallow you whole?”
“Unggh. Shit.Yesfuckgodyes.” His toes curl in the sheets, and the camera trembles as spurts of cum jet over his rippling abs. “Fucking holy fuck.” A breathless laugh escapes him, and I squeeze the base of my cock with a rough grunt, unwilling to let this dream end by following him into his climax.
“Sorry,” he gasps. “I told you it missed you.”
Like watching him come after ten seconds of my voice isn’t the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.
“Show me that beautiful mess you made, baby.”
With the lingering tremors of his orgasm spurring me on, I fumble for the bottle of lube in the nightstand while he drags his fingers over his torso and holds them up to the phone.
“I bet you wish you could taste it.”
“I want you to pretend it’s mine and rub it all over your hot little hole. I bet it’s clenching gorgeously for me right now, all aching and empty.”
The screen goes dark, and he curses.
“Shit. You made me drop the phone.”
“I’m gonna make you do a lot more before I’m finished with you.” I snap the cap on the lube and squeeze a generous dollop over my cock.
“Was thatlube? This is totally unfair, you know. You’re getting a show, and I can’t see shit.”
“You get to listen to me get myself off while I think about stretching your pretty hole around my cock. And I know you can give me one more with that famous college-boy stamina. Now show me what I’m fucking, Echo. I need to see you come again with your fingers in your ass.”
Christ, I’ve missed turning myself loose on him. I was an idiot to think I could give this up. The wasted weeks condense to nothing as my greedy gaze devours him, and I tell myself I won’t regret it in the morning.
He flips himself over, and I get an intoxicating kaleidoscope of sinful skin and blue-black ink as he shoves the phone between his legs.
“That’s it. Ass in the air for me.” Delicious shivers race up my spine, and my own ass curls off the bed, chasing his phantom heat.
“Yes, Mr. Baard—Oh shit.” His bed creaks, and with another dizzying flash of flesh, I’m left staring at his ceiling with my dick protesting in my palm. “Someone’s at the door.”
“Don’t answer it,” I growl.
“I didn’t lock it last night and—fuck.”
A dresser drawer slams as he scrambles around the room, and I bite back a whine, squeezing my balls to vent my frustration.
“Echo…”
He snatches the phone up, eyes wide with mischievous mirth and not nearly enough remorse. “I’m so sorry. It’s Gia and PB. I completely forgot I promised I’d hit the climbing gym with them this morning.”
“Seriously?” I flip my phone around to show him the state of me, ruddy and swollen and slick. His answering groan sends another drop of precum pulsing from my slit. “Tell them to fuck off.”