Total pages in book: 171
Estimated words: 159500 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 798(@200wpm)___ 638(@250wpm)___ 532(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 159500 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 798(@200wpm)___ 638(@250wpm)___ 532(@300wpm)
But nothing could have prepared me for the raspy tone coming from the speakers.
“I bet you wish you were here. I would let you touch it,” Road says, stepping back. I now realize he must have placed his own phone somewhere, because I see both his hands now, one sliding between his legs to cup his balls, the other—riding up his abdomen. Just seeing it happen makes my skin twitch. Everywhere.
There’s a certain safety in the screen. I don’t need to commit to anything. I’m just watching. I’m not even talking to him.
But deep down, I know how wrong this is. This information about him could be useful to my club. We could destroy him, and yet I’ve been keeping it to myself like a filthy secret.
Road has yelled at me, snarled at me, and whispered threats. This soft, tempting warmth is a new side of him, one I had no idea existed.
I’m glued to the phone as though it’s my lifeline, and I can’t help it, I do imagine being wherever he is and shamelessly touching his cock. I’d feel it push against the heel of my hand, then let the cockhead slide all the way up to my inner wrist.
“The call’s still live, so I assume you like what you’re seeing,” he rasps and lifts his hand, palm up. A soft moan escapes my lips when spit lands on his fingers, and he smooths it over the shaft, stroking himself without hurry.
I find myself unable to decide where I should focus my attention, because while that beautiful cock is the obvious choice, and the most forbidden, I can’t help but swallow at the sight of his abs. The man’s a cockroach. A coyote. A vulture. But if God exists, he made Road’s body his favorite project. His hips are narrow, with a pronounced Apollo’s belt diverting attention right to where he wants it, and his abs would have been the muse of all the gay sculptors of the Renaissance.
How could I look away?
Worse still? I’m not just looking. My dick is so hard it’s burning through my jeans, so I open them as quietly as I can. I huff in relief when I wrap my fingers around my aching hard cock.
Go on, I think to myself, stroke it.
My mouth is dry, my mind is scrambled, and I don’t dare blink.
I watch porn sometimes. I’ve got a secret stash in the woods, all analog, in case someone wanted to hack my phone. This? This is different. It’s another person, someone I know, and the show is for my excitement only. He wants me to want him, for me to see him. That alone is… addictive.
“Nothing’s stopping you from touching me. Smelling me. Tasting me,” Road goes on as I take in the many scars on his body, before again focusing on the cock he’s now stroking in a fast rhythm. I try to match it, and when I listen to his raspy breathing, it almost feels like we are in the same room.
“Your skin,” he goes on, lazily rubbing his cockhead. “I still can’t get its taste out of my head. Or that spicy cologne you use. Makes me want to drink your sweat and blood like it’s whiskey.”
Um. Okay. I had no idea this dumbass, who I’m pretty sure can barely read, has such a way with words.
I don’t care if he can hear me jerking off. I let the compliments melt me and stroke myself as I watch that stiff tool in his hand. And yes, I do want to lick it, but he doesn’t need to know that.
“I keep wondering how good of a kisser you are too. Maybe I should test you and only then push you to your knees so you can warm my cock with that pretty mouth,” Road whispers, and his hand starts moving faster.
“I’m not kissing you, fucker,” I whisper before I can bite my tongue. Fuck. Why do I let him rile me up?
“So you just want a pump-and-dump kind of thing? I’m game, if a bit disappointed,” he says, and each loud breath he takes makes the skin of my nape tingle.
I don’t know what’s hotter, imagining him kissing me, or the vision of being just an anonymous body he fucks. I shouldn’t like either, but I’ve got goosebumps. I moan and jerk off faster. If he hears it, he hears it. Fuck it.
My eyes are glued to the phone and his big hand moving over his dick, cockhead pointing at me as if he wants to come all over my face, and I don’t hate it. For the first time in years I’m letting myself explore this attraction beyond quick fantasies and it’s like getting my tank filled with the right fuel after trying to use water.
My hips are working up and down as I fuck my own fist, entranced by the man stroking himself for our mutual pleasure. I wish there was a way to leap through the screen and emerge on the other side, so I can press my mouth to his dick and suck in the head. I bet he tastes like danger and betrayal, but I no longer care, chasing my mounting release while he gasps.