Chapter 6 #2
He has no idea what he’s doing to me. Or maybe he does.
His lips spread into a shit-eating grin as he nibbles at the edges of the bread.
Taking his time, he bites off each corner, and I’ve never seen anyone eat a sandwich in such an odd way.
I laugh, and it’s so refreshing how real he is.
Such a free spirit, showing off everything he is, and I fucking want it all.
He grinds against the chair and moans around his sandwich. “Fuck, I want to come so bad. I need to come.”
He tugs at one of the studs in his nipples and rolls his hips, crying out. “If there was someone looking in the window right now, they’d get to see me being so horny. So needy. So ready to burst at any moment. I want them to keep looking too.”
Oh, I'm right here sweet pea. I'll be here when the camera is off too.
He'll never have to be alone for long again if I can help it.
I can tell he needs someone to be too and I'll never allow anyone else to stand in my place.
Not after I've seen what we could create together.
This magic. It's flowing through the screen, tethering us together.
I don't pull away from it either. It feels better when I don't. He relaxes something in me the way I relax him and I almost feel like more than the monster I've given up on running away from.
With him I can be more than a man with blood on his hands. I can be everywhere he needs me.
Standing up from his chair, he sets the rest of his sandwich on the table and tugs his underwear down his hips.
Taking himself in hand, he moves back and forth, body shaking with each plunge between his small fingers.
His other fingers finger his hole, and he rubs at the outside, turning around so I can see the pretty dark-pink pucker.
Swirling his finger, he writhes between his hands and makes unintelligible sounds.
I go back to stroking myself, pumping in and out of my fist and matching his movements.
He leans over more, struggling to stand up straight as he turns to the side again.
His skin is nearly matching his pretty red hair the closer he gets to his orgasm, and I’m getting right there with him, my body heating as if someone lit a fuse inside me.
“Ahhh.” He speeds up his movements, and as his cock twitches between his fingers, he aims the tip at the sandwich and shoots his load all over the bread, covering some of the table.
Holy fuck, do I lose control of everything—the emotions inside me, the feeling of my hands, and my pleasure.
White dots scatter along my vision as I come, and with my cock still pouring like a faucet, I’m already ready for round two when he picks up the remaining sandwich and eats every bite.
Looking at me, he smiles, out of breath.
“Don’t worry, I’ll be able to go again in ten minutes or so, and I’ll get that screen covered for you.”
Sheep Finder: Oh, I have no doubt. After the show you gave me, I’m perfectly fine with waiting.
His breaths are shaky and he lowers himself into the chair behind him. “Before I do anything else, I better clean the table.”
Lowering his face to his cum, he flicks his tongue at the white drops and slurps up the rest. “So why did you want me to go outside?”
Sheep Finder: I’d rather not say. I want it to be a surprise.”
“I guess I’ll have to wait, then. I hope you’re not going to make me fuck poison ivy or something.”
I bark out a laugh, using wipes to clean up my mess before tucking myself back in my pants.
Sheep Finder: Now that’s a thought, but no. You don’t need me to end up with a rash on your genitals. Something tells me with your survival skills, that will happen anyway.
“What?” He gawks.
Fuck. I got caught up in our conversation and it felt too much like the ones we have in person. I forgot where we are. I do want him to know it’s me, but not yet. I want to do it slowly, with small clues, and that was a big one.
Sheep Finder: I just meant to say you run a farm or homestead and have brush scratches all over your shoulders.
“Oh.” His body relaxes and he lays an arm over the table. “I didn’t think anyone would actually believe what I said I do for a living on my profile.”
Sheep Finder: Trust me, I’ve lived in the country for a long time and can spot a lie when I see one.
“Really?” He perks up. “What part of my profile is a lie, then?”
Sheep Finder: You really want me to tell you?
“I do.” He rests his chin on a closed fist.
Sheep Finder: For starters, you say you’re twenty-two, and I’m going to go with twenty-five.
“Twenty-seven actually, but you’re close. How old are you?”
Sheep Finder: It’s rude to ask someone their age.
“But you know mine.”
Sheep Finder: I guessed yours.
He blows out a frustrated breath, lifting his head. “Fine. Okay, tell me another lie?”
Sheep Finder: You say you live with a boyfriend and I’ve yet to see one around.
“He’s at work,” he protests. “He’s a firefighter and does twenty-four-hour shifts.”
Sheep Finder: And yet your profile says he’s in the army. You’re terrible at this.
“Okay, fine, so I made one up, but I really do live with someone. My roommate. He’s currently in the hospital.”
So, this one is a mixture of a truth and a lie.
I looked into where his brother was, and he’s in a coma.
A bad motorcycle accident nearly took his life and still might.
It sucks because from what I’ve gathered about him, he’s a pretty stand-up guy.
His business partners on the other hand are a bunch of assholes, and you have to wonder how someone like him got mixed up with them.
Do they even care what’s happened to him?
I’ve heard people ask where he is before, when stopping by for a quick drink to help wind me down for the night, and they either side-step around the question or say he’s visiting family.
Sheep Finder: That sucks. Hope he’s holding up okay.
“Me too.” His face falls. “I’ve been too scared to go visit him ever since coming here. “I guess it’s easier to remain in denial about how bad it is by not actually seeing it first-hand.”
Sheep Finder: I can see that. I’m sure he’d like to have you there, though.
“I don’t think he’d notice whether I am or not.” His face hardens.
Sheep Finder: I’ve heard stories about people in comas being able to hear loved ones speak to them and even remember some of what they said when they wake up.
“Yeah, me too, but . . . wait . . . How’d you know he was in a coma?”
Sheep Finder: Lucky guess.
“I . . . I should probably get that nap now.”
Sheep Finder: What happened to the screen shot you owe me.
“Oh right . . . I forgot. I’m just suddenly really tired, and I need to get a lot of homework done before bed tonight.”
Sheep Finder: Want me to watch you fall asleep, and once you do, I’ll log off?
His bottom lip trembles. “I . . . If you’re willing to pay for the time, then sure.”
Sheep Finder: Is that the only reason you want me to?
“No,” he says between shallow breaths. “I’d like you to watch me.”
Sheep Finder: Then I’ll be everywhere you need me.
Carrying the computer back to his room, he sets the device on the desk and settles in his bed.
His eyes go from wide open to slowly closing as he dozes off.
Instead of logging off as soon as his breathing evens and he goes completely still, I stick around for a little longer.
He talks a little in his sleep, yelling at the sheep to stop eating his socks, and I laugh.
When he starts to shift over, I send him a big tip and end the video.
There’s lots to be done before dark, and I’ll need to make up for tomorrow’s lost time somehow.
Except the only time that feels wasted is when I’m not spending it with him.
How can this aggravating, clueless little shit have such a huge effect on me?
I’ve been around many supposedly powerful men, but no one else has ever possessed me before, and I didn’t think it was possible.
Normally, he’d be on my own personal hit list for making me feel weak or being a possible future problem, but I’d rather put my own name there before his.
No way can this end well. I accepted a long time ago that I was meant to be alone, so I can’t let him swoop in and make me question myself. But here I am letting him do it anyway, and I don’t know how to stop it.