Chapter 6
Scott [an attached picture of two cats sleeping]: I think my cat is gay, too.
Cam: They’re sleeping. Stop projecting.
Scott: Look at the way he’s cuddled up to the neighbor’s cat!
Cam: Which one is yours, again?
Scott: The fact that you still can’t recognize Mr. Cock is deeply offensive. I’ve only sent you a hundred pictures of him!
Cam: I’m still not convinced you aren’t taking the piss. Surely even you wouldn’t call a pet Mr. Cock.
Scott: Even me? Excuse me? What is that supposed to mean, Richter?
Cam: You’re the most ridiculous person I’ve ever met.
Scott: That’s not how you spell “amazing,” dude.
Cam: If you say so. Dude.
Scott: I do say so. I know you secretly adore me!
Cam: Whatever gave you that idea?
Scott: Hmm, let me think about it… Maybe the fact that you’re replying to my texts at 2 am in Monaco?
Cam: That just shows that I have a messed-up sleep schedule and you’re mildly entertaining.
Scott: [an attached selfie of Scott pouting exaggeratedly]
Cam: As I said, the most ridiculous person I’ve ever met.
Scott: I’m blocking you.
Cam: You wouldn’t. Who else would you whine to about your playthings?
Scott: Stop calling my boyfriends playthings! You’re worse than Will. All you do is mock my love life.
Cam: Calling it a love life is generous when you swap your playthings every few days. I hope you use condoms.
Scott: Always. You’re such a prude. You’re just jealous that I’m getting laid on the regular while you aren’t.
Cam: Who says I’m not?
Scott frowned, eyeing the text. What?
Scott: You are?
Cam: I literally have groupies that follow me around the world, mate.
Scott’s frown deepened. He didn’t know why he was so surprised. Cam was famous, handsome, and rich, so of course he had countless female fans throwing themselves at him.
Scott: You never talk about it.
Cam: A gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell, but you wouldn’t know anything about it.
Scott rolled his eyes.
Scott: Just admit you’re a prude.
Cam: Just because I don’t text you explicit details of my sex life doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist.
Scott stared at the text, unsure what the feeling in his chest was. Curiosity, he finally decided. He was curious. Compared to him, Cam was extremely reserved about his sex life, so it was natural that Scott was very curious what that sex life was like.
Scott: Let’s hear it, then. Tell me what you did with the last person you had sex with.
Cam: Fuck, now you aren’t going to shut up until I tell you, are you?
Scott: Aww, you know me so well. [kissing emoji] Give me all the explicit details, Richter. Now.
He watched Cam type, then pause, then start typing again.
Cam: her cunt was very tight around my cock. But not as tight as her throat was when she was choking on it.
Scott stared at the screen.
Jesus.
He adjusted his dick, his shorts suddenly a bit small.
That was a little weird—straight porn usually didn’t do anything for him—but whatever; he was a healthy guy in his twenties.
It was totally normal to feel a bit turned on when someone talked about sex, especially when that someone was Cameron Richter, who clearly got uncomfortable every time Scott mentioned sex.
Apparently his discomfort didn’t extend to straight sex.
Scott caught his lip between his teeth and thought for a moment before typing another text.
Scott: Is it always the cunt? If you don’t fuck them in the ass, you’re seriously missing out. Nothing feels better than a tight ass around my dick.
He stroked his cock absently as he waited for Cam’s reply.
Cam: Gay men didn’t invent anal, you know.
Scott’s lips twitched. He could practically see the flat look Cam was giving him.
Scott: We probably did. You straights are too lazy to be that inventive. Admit it, ass is better than vagina.
Cam: Hmm that’s debatable. Besides, vagina takes less prep. It’s kind of relevant for me.
Scott: Are you claiming your dick is that big?
Cam: You said that, not me.
Scott wet his dry lips, stroking his erection absently.
Scott: Come on, you can’t say it and not tell me. How big?
Cam: Around 8.5 inches
Scott blinked.
Scott: You’re so full of shit. Prove it.
Cam: All right, moving on.
Scott: lol I knew you were bullshitting. Your dick is actually 5 inches, admit it.
Cam: You’re a child.
Scott: 4 inches? That’s all right, babe. Nothing to be ashamed of. Size doesn’t matter, it’s how you use it.
Cam: for fuck’s sake.
Cam: [image attached]
Scott’s mouth went dry. It was a picture of a strong male hand—Cam’s hand—holding a half-hard cock. It was fucking huge, even though it wasn’t even fully hard.
Cam: Happy now?
Scott: I don’t know… it’s pretty big, sure, but it doesn’t look 8.5. Get it hard.
Cam: You can’t be serious. I’m not going to jerk off to send you a dick pic. That would be weird.
Scott wondered whether he should tell him that sending the picture of his half-hard cock to a gay friend was plenty weird already, but eventually he decided against it. He didn’t want Cam to freak out over nothing. And this was nothing. A normal late-night conversation between buddies.
Scott: Don’t be a pussy. Come on. For science. I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.
Cam: Whatever gave you an idea that I want to see your dick? You should’ve threatened to show it if I didn’t show you mine.
Scott: If my ego were more fragile, you’d have crushed it.
Cam: Good thing it isn’t, then.
Scott: OK, send a dick pic or you’ll get mine. I’m serious.
For a long moment, Cam didn’t answer.
Then a picture popped up.
Jesus fucking Christ.
Scott stared at the thick, long, veiny cock in Cam’s hand and had to lick his suddenly dry lips.
Wow. Just wow. Although Scott obviously wasn’t a size queen himself, he knew plenty of gay men who were, who loved nothing more than a big dick in both of their holes.
A cock like that would drive them crazy.
They would slobber all over it like they were possessed, lick the vein on the underside before sucking on the red, fat head.
They would put it into their mouths and try to take all of it, even though it would be too much—
Scott moaned, stroking his cock faster. Fuck. Fuuuck.
He came into his hand and fell back against the couch, still breathing heavily.
Wiping the mess on his hand against his shirt, he reached for his phone again.
Scott: Nice. Though it’s closer to 8.4 in my expert opinion.
Cam sent him a middle finger emoji.
Scott grinned. God, he adored that guy.
***
“Texting a new boyfriend?”
Scott rolled his eyes at his cousin’s remark. Will was as annoying as Cam when it came to mocking his romantic life. More annoying, actually. Cam’s mocking felt far more tolerable for some reason.
“No,” Scott said. “A friend.”
Will’s eyebrows flew up. “Really? You’ve been grinning stupidly for minutes.”
Scott froze, surprised. He had been?
“If you don’t have friends who make you smile, I feel sad for you, man. By the way, how is your jailbait?”
Will glared at him without much heat. “Gadiel is good.”
“If you want some tips on how to fuck him, you know who to ask,” Scott said, earning a kick to his shin. “Hey!”
“Dickhead,” Will said, but he sounded fond, and Scott returned his eyes to his phone.
Cam texted him again.
Cam: Are you coming to the next race?
Scott: Why, are you asking me to come, Cameron Richter?
Cam: No.
Cam: But I could send you a VIP pass if you want.
“You’re smiling stupidly again,” Will said. “Who is that friend?”
Scott quickly wiped his smile. “Just a friend,” he said, shrugging and changing the subject. “So I met the cutest guy the other day…”