3. Zander
3
ZANDER
“Was that good for you?” Sinbin asked shyly.
“Amazing,” I said honestly.
“For me too.”
“So are you glad you swiped right on me?” I asked, pulling the hair tie I’d used to put my hair back free so the strands fell around my shoulders.
He let out a giggle that was way too cute. “Almost as glad as I am that you swiped right on me. I think I can officially say I’m a fan of phone sex.”
“Glad to be of service.”
“I should go clean up,” he said reluctantly. “I’m a mess.”
“I am too.” I glanced down at my chest. It had been a few days since I’d come, and my load was huge. “Goodnight, Sinbin.”
“Goodnight, Nice.”
I ended the call and tossed my phone onto the bed beside me. Carefully, I tugged off my tee and used it to wipe up the mess on my stomach. When I was mostly clean, I tossed the shirt in my hamper, then raked my hand through my hair to push it back from where it had fallen into my face.
That wasn’t what I expected to happen when I logged in to Kinksters tonight. I’d come home after work the same as I did every Friday night, but instead of welcoming the silence, it had felt heavy and oppressive.
I took a shower, then spent the next few minutes puttering around and trying to find something to do until it was time to go to bed.
Nothing appealed to me, and I finally settled on my bed and logged in to Kinksters to try and chase away the loneliness hovering over me.
I liked being alone. I preferred having my own space, and I didn’t feel the need to change that.
But there were times when the constant solitude got to be too much and I needed some sort of human connection, even if it was just a shared orgasm with a stranger on the internet. Going out and finding someone to hook up with wasn’t an option, and I’d long since given up on apps like Grindr. Sticking my dick in someone wasn’t what I craved, and a quick fuck with a stranger usually left me feeling worse than if I’d just stayed home and taken care of things myself.
It wasn’t that I didn’t enjoy sex. I did, even if I didn’t have it often. I just didn’t really enjoy people. I wasn’t some antisocial asshole who shunned everyone I met, but I didn’t have much of a social battery, and going out and being in crowds stressed me out.
Kinksters was a way for me to get off with someone in real time. It was a safe place where I could be myself and indulge in things I couldn’t in real life.
Like I told Sinbin, I’d had an account on there for years, but I didn’t log on often. The last time was about a month ago, and I’d only opened the app to check out some new profiles and window shop, so to speak. The last time I’d talked to someone on it was almost six months ago, and that had been underwhelming at best.
Most of the encounters I’d had on here were similar. There was lots of awkward small talk and strained silence while I felt them out and figured out what they wanted. Sometimes we could get into a groove, but other times it was a struggle to get us both off, and I had to really work for my orgasm.
What just happened with Sinbin was unlike anything I’d ever expected or experienced. He’d been so responsive and honest. And the amount of trust he’d shown affected me more than I cared to admit.
Grabbing my phone, I re-opened Kinksters and went to his profile. I’d given it a cursory glance when he messaged to make sure there weren’t any red flags but hadn’t looked too closely at it.
I didn’t care what the person I talked to looked like, but Sinbin’s photos were one reason I’d answered his message so quickly. He was exactly what I usually wanted in a guy.
Clicking on his gallery, I enlarged the first photo so I could take a better look at it. Unlike a lot of men on here, Sinbin didn’t have any full nudes. The closest was a photo of him pulling a shirt tight against his hard cock, creating an impressive outline of both his dick and his pecs and showing off his well-muscled thighs and arms.
I liked that he left a little something to the imagination. I had nothing against guys who showed it all, but there was something alluring about the mystery.
His other pics were the same as every other guy on here, including mine. Headless, shirtless torso shots. Most were taken in front of a mirror, but one shot was of him on a beach.
I clicked on it and slowly dragged my gaze over his body. I couldn’t be sure because his photos didn’t have anything I could measure his height against, but he looked like he was a big guy. His broad shoulders and thick arms glistened in the sun, and his low-slung board shorts showed off a tight and toned stomach and a pair of strong, thick legs. A light smattering of blond hair on his chest tapered into a darker treasure trail, and his pecs were defined and full.
It was rare to find someone with his build who enjoyed the same things as me.
Exiting out of his gallery, I re-read his bio.
Sinbin ~ just a regular guy looking to have some fun. No names. No meetups. No repeats.
It didn’t say a lot about him, but it said enough. The only detail on his profile was his age, which was listed as twenty-six. I had no idea if that was accurate, but I’d listed my real age and assumed others did the same.
Like me, he kept the geolocation off, and none of his photos had anything in them that could identify him or where they were taken.
He was a complete mystery, which was exactly what I looked for on here. Too bad he wasn’t into repeats.
With a soft sigh, I exited out of Kinksters and was about to get out of bed to clean up when my phone rang.
“Hey,” I answered, settling back on my bed with a smile.
“Do you have time to listen to me rant? Because I need to rant,” Ivy, my best friend, asked, not bothering with a greeting.
“Who do we hate tonight?” I asked.
“My new supervisor,” she grumbled.
“The one who wears a vat of cologne every day or another new one?”
“Cologne guy.”
“Hit me.”
“I hate him,” she said, her voice animated and dramatic. “He’s the worst. Like the literal worst. He flits around the office like he owns the place and is always trying to micromanage everyone. Did I tell you he’s making us use these new mouse pads that record how long the mouse sits idle? And they put keylogging software on our computers to track our productive time,” she said, emphasizing productive time like the vocal equivalent of air quotes.
“How is that legal?”
“Because we use company equipment, so they can alter it however they want,” she huffed out.
“They do realize that your job entails more than just computer work, right? That just because you’re not actively using it doesn’t mean you’re not doing other things.”
“You know that, and I know that, but that doesn’t fit their Big Brother ways. Oh ! I didn’t tell you this, but he’s offloaded almost all of his work onto us in the last few weeks too. Can you believe that? Apparently he’s too busy making sure we’re productive to do his own damn job, so now we have to pick up the slack.”
“I wish I could say I’m surprised, but I’m not,” I said sympathetically.
“I don’t get paid nearly enough to deal with his bullshit,” she grumbled. “I found out today that I’m now responsible for his budget sheets.”
“Has he ever met you?” I teased. “That seems like an oversight on his part.”
She snickered. “Right? I’m so bad at them. Probably because I hate finance and believe that budgets are just suggestions. He’s going to be in for a shock if he doesn’t double-check my work because I’m not spending my entire weekend combing through spreadsheets to balance a budget I don’t get the luxury of spending.”
“Will you get in trouble if it’s wrong?”
“Maybe?” I could hear her shrug. “But whatever. It’s not my job, and I’m not getting paid to do it. I’m not killing myself to make that asshole look good.” She paused. “Okay, I feel better now. How are you? It’s been a forever since we chatted.”
“We talked last week,” I pointed out.
“That was a whole week ago,” she exclaimed. “Do you have any idea how much can happen in a week?”
“In my life, not a lot.”
“Something must have happened,” she pressed. “Have you met anyone new?”
“No. And I’m not looking.”
I could hear her roll her eyes.
I met Ivy at a church event when we were ten, and we’d been inseparable ever since. She was my best friend—and my ex-wife.
Most people didn’t understand our relationship or how we could stay so close after divorcing, but we didn’t break up because we stopped loving each other. We just realized that we weren’t in love with each other, and we weren’t…compatible in all the ways that counted.
“I get that you don’t want a boyfriend or anything, but what about a fuck buddy?” she asked. “Or even a random from Grindr? Someone to break your dry spell.”
A snippet of my conversation with Sinbin flashed in my mind. Ivy knew I had certain proclivities and used Kinksters, but a JOI wasn’t what she was talking about. And it wasn’t like I was anything to Sinbin, I’d just gotten him off. “Nope.”
“I don’t know how you do it.”
“Do what?”
“Live like a monk. You’re young and hot and in the prime of your life. Don’t you get lonely? Don’t you miss sex?”
“Sometimes,” I admitted. “But it’s not like I never have sex.”
“Talking to strangers on the internet isn’t sex.”
“It’s shared orgasms. That’s pretty much the definition of sex.”
“Pretty sure you’re supposed to be in the same room for it to count as sex.”
“Fake news,” I said lightly.
“Don’t you ever want more?” she asked.
I loved Ivy, and she’d been my ride or die for almost twenty years, but I was getting tired of having this conversation every few weeks.
“No,” I lied.
Sometimes I wondered what it would be like to be in a real relationship. To have someone to lean on or come home to after a long day. Who would be there for me not just when things were good, but also when times were tough.
I’d almost had that with her, but we weren’t compatible as lovers, and it had nothing to do with my interest in kink and everything to do with me being gay.
Ivy was one of the few people who knew the truth about me. She’d figured it out while we were married, but instead of shutting me out or being angry at me, she helped me come to terms with it and kept my secret after we’d broken up.
Only her husband Mark, Devon, and Nate knew the truth, and I intended to keep it that way.
“You can still be with someone and not come out,” she said softly. “I know you’re not ready for that, but?—”
“Ivy,” I interrupted. “I love you, but please drop it.”
“Okay,” she said. “I just want you to be happy.”
“I know. But you know why I can’t come out. Talking about it isn’t going to change anything, so it’s pointless to have the same conversation over and over.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine.”
“What are you doing on Sunday?” she asked after a few beats of silence.
“Not much. I have to help my mom with some stuff in the afternoon, but that’s it.”
“Do you want to come over for dinner? We can order from that Lebanese place you and Mark like.”
“Yeah, that sounds good. What time?”
“How about we say sixish? Will that give you enough time?”
“It should. Do you want me to bring wine or beer?”
“Beer. Maybe that same six-pack you brought last time? The sampler?”
“I’ll see if they’re still carrying it.” The pack in question was a summer promotion from a local brewery, so there was a chance they’d either sold out or had replaced it with something new now that it was fall. “Is there anything else you want if they’re out?”
“Surprise us.” She paused. “You sound different.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m not sure, exactly. But you’re extra relaxed and chill. Did I interrupt some solo time?”
“No, but I did get off about five minutes before you called,” I said, knowing that would get her attention.
“I’m not following—oh!” She laughed. “You were on your app, weren’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Thank fuck I spilled my tea.” She snort-laughed.
“What?”
“I spilled my tea while I was sitting down to call you and had to clean up and make a new one. If I hadn’t, I would have totally called while you were getting your bossy on.”
“Thank fuck for your clumsiness. No offense, but having your name pop up on my phone while I was doing that would have been an instant mood killer.”
“None taken.” She snickered. “Was it at least good?”
“Yeah, better than usual,” I said honestly.
“That’s something, at least. Are you going to talk to him again?”
“Probably not,” I said, unable to keep the disappointment out of my voice.
I wasn’t against repeats, especially when they were with someone I clicked with, but Sinbin’s bio made it clear he wasn’t looking for that.
“Why not?” she asked. “Just because he’s an online boink buddy?—”
“Boink buddy?” I asked with a laugh.
“Cum comrade? What about peen pal?”
“Oh my god.” I shook my head, still laughing. “No to all of those.”
“Whatever,” she said dismissively. “I’m just saying that even a regular online thing could be good for you.”
“That’s not what the app is for. Or why I go on it.”
“Are you okay otherwise? How’s work?” she asked, changing the subject.
“I’m good. And work is good too.”
“How’s the new guy doing?”
“He’s good.”
“That’s all I get? He’s good?” she pressed.
“Not much else to say. He gets along with everyone, he’s good at his job, and he cleans up after himself.”
“You spend over forty hours a week with the guy, and that’s all you know about him? He’s good at his job and he cleans up after himself?”
I hadn’t told Ivy much about Luka—or about my attraction to him. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust her or didn’t want her to know; it was more that I didn’t want to say it out loud, like that would somehow make it more real.
And it would be easier to get over my crush or whatever this was if I didn’t have to deal with her asking a million questions and pestering me about it.
“Yup.”
“I’ve got to go,” she said apologetically. “We’re driving to Mark’s sister’s tomorrow, and we have to leave super early.” She made a disgruntled sound. “Like in the car at six early.”
“Ew. Why?”
“Because Mark and his entire family are morning people and forget that weekends are for sleeping in.”
“Good luck with that.”
“Thanks. Don’t forget dinner on Sunday.”
“I’ll be there at sixish with beer,” I promised.
“Have a good night.”
“You too.”
She ended the call, and I leaned over to plug my phone into the jack next to my bed.
Time to take another shower. I might have wiped up after my call with Sinbin, but the shirt hadn’t gotten everything, and the dried cum on my chest was getting uncomfortable.
Then I just had to find something to do that would occupy my brain for the next few hours so I could unwind and hopefully get to bed at a decent time and avoid being exhausted at work tomorrow.