33. Porter #2
“It better be my dick,” I tease.
“Good guess.” He laughs for a second. “Are you alone?”
“Yeah, already said goodnight to my family.”
“It’s kind of hot picturing you in your childhood bedroom,” he admits.
“Seriously?”
“Well, I’m picturing you naked,” he explains “Which is always hot. But there’s something kind of naughty thinking about the fact that your family doesn’t know you’re on the phone with me. That I’m technically sharing a room, and Nathan could come back at any time and catch me.”
I lower myself on the bed so I’m fully laying down as I picture him naked now too. I press the phone to my ear and lower my tone. “And what would he catch you doing if he did walk in?”
“Right now he’d find me slowly jerking off to the sexy way your voice just dipped.”
“Fuck,” I mutter as my cock twitches just thinking about that, and I realize how hard I already am just from talking to him for such a short time.
“I’m so desperate for you. It’s like I can never get enough of your mouth.”
“I am very skilled.”
“You really are. So, what are you wearing?”
“Sweatpants,” I answer, then for some reason, I don’t know if I’m just in a weird mood being home, or if I want to earn a bigger reaction from him, but I decide to tell him the truth. “And your hoodie.”
“Fuck, I love when you wear that,” he responds, voice strained. “Does it still smell like me?”
“No, I think I need another one now,” I tease.
“Hmm. I keep thinking about touching you. About what we can do next,” he murmurs.
“What do you want to do next?” I push.
“I… I want to be inside of you,” he admits in a breathy tone. “Not just my fingers. I want to fuck you. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.”
“Oh, fuck, I want that too. So badly.” I have to squeeze my dick in an attempt to get enough relief to even try to focus on his words.
“Are you hard now?” he asks.
“Yes.”
“Switch to video?”
My nerves spike slightly because I’ve never had phone sex before, and now I’m doing it for the first time at my mom’s house. “Okay,” I hear myself agree before I can worry too much about if it’s a good idea.
I tap the screen, and for a second, it’s just black.
My heart thuds against my ribs as I wait for the video to connect.
Then his face fills the screen. He’s exactly how I pictured him, sitting up in a hotel bed, messy head of hair against the headboard, but seeing it in real-time is a thousand times better than my imagination.
The soft glow of his bedside lamp catches in his hair and makes his blue-green eyes warmer than I’m used to. God, he’s so unfairly attractive.
“Hey,” he greets again, his voice a little breathless, but he’s smiling back at me.
“Hey, yourself,” I murmur, adjusting to sit up straighter. I grab a pillow and set it in front of me and off to the side so I can prop my phone up against it while I lay back.
“You look so good in that,” he comments, and I try to hold back my blush.
“I always look good.”
“So fucking true.” His eyes drift down, taking me all in. “Are you still hard for me?”
I glance down at the very obvious tent in my sweats. “What do you think? Of course I am.”
“Show me,” he instructs. “Let me see you.”
“Yes, Daddy,” I respond, pulling down my pants.
His breath hitches like it always does when I call him that. He loves it. I love it too. The first night I let it slip when I was drunk, I’d meant it as a playful nod to his protective, caring nature, but now it falls easily from my lips whenever I really want to drive him wild.
He slowly shifts the phone, angling it down his body, then pushes the waistband of his sweatpants down just enough for me to see, and my dick twitches again at the sight of him hard for me.
“Fuck, Will,” I groan. “You’re dick is so nice. I love seeing it swollen, all the veins popping as your precum leaks out for me. I wish I was there to lick it clean for you. Are you going to touch yourself for me?”
“Jesus,” he whispers, his hand coming up to cover the base of his dick, not stroking, just holding it for now, and I wish it was my hand. “Fuck, I wish you were here too. Stroke yourself for me. Show me,” he instructs confidently. “Pretend it’s my hand touching you just the way you like.”
I slowly move my hand, and he watches, mesmerized, as my wrist twists up and down my hard shaft.
“Do you have lube?” he asks.
“Yeah.” I still have some in my away bag from the lake house.
“Get it and squeeze some out onto your dick, P.” I hurry to grab the bottle from my duffle bag on the floor and fully strip out of my pants and underwear before settling back into position to do as he said.
I squeeze some on the head of my cock before twisting my wrist to spread it around, the slick, wet sound filling the quiet room.
“Just like that, Kitten,” he encourages, the deep tone of his voice turning me on even more.
“Stroke yourself slowly for Daddy. I want to watch.” Holy fucking shit, hearing him call himself that is even hotter than when I do it.
My cock jerks and precum spills from my tip as I fight the urge to come already.
He bites his lip in a smirk as he strokes himself in tandem with me, twisting his fist at the top before gliding his wrist back down. His eyes are locked on the screen, watching me watch him. It’s intoxicating. He’s intoxicating.
“Fuck, I wish this was your hand so badly,” I tell him in a breathy tone.
“Me too. I wish I was the one making you moan. I’d be stretching you open right now, getting you ready for me.”
“Don’t tease me like that,” I whine as I continue to stroke myself. “It’s been so long since I’ve been full, since the dildo at the lake house.”
“You want to use my cock the way you used your dildo tomorrow when I get back?”
“Oh fuck, yes,” I groan, imagining sinking down on his perfect cock.
“I can’t wait to be inside of you,” he assures me, strokes getting faster and less practiced. “You have no idea how much I’d love to feel you wrapped around my dick. You’re going to feel so good, so tight.”
“So good,” I repeat, unable to come up with my own words at this point.
“I’m going to eat your hole out and have you crying on my fingers,” he adds confidently.
“I’m so close,” I warn him, voice strained as I fight my release because I don’t want this to end. Don’t want to stop imagining him being this needy for me, even if it’s just physical.
“Then I’m going to slick my dick up and push inside of you, have you screaming and begging for me. For your Daddy. I’m going to give you everything you’ve ever wanted as you ride my cock.” The visual is too much.
“Fuck, Will, fuck, fuck, fuck.” My back arches, and I cry out in pleasure as my orgasm slams into me. I moan as my dick jerks, shooting my release all over his sweatshirt I never removed.
“Fuck, that’s so sexy,” he mutters, sounding close himself.
“You like me covering your sweatshirt in my cum?” I manage to ask, voice still raspy as I come down from the high of my release.
“Yeees.” His body jerks as he spills over his hand, coming with a loud groan.
For a moment, we’re both silent, the sounds of our panting filling the room between us. Then he slowly brings the phone back up to his face. He’s flushed and messy and beautiful, and I’ve never wanted to kiss anyone more.
“Wow,” he says finally, his voice still low.
“Yeah,” I agree, a lazy grin spreading across my face. “Wow.”
“How was that for you?”
“Amazing,” I admit. There’s no point pretending that I don’t enjoy every time we hook up.
“So, so good. Holy shit,” he agrees, chuckling lightly to himself like he can’t believe that just happened. For a moment, we just smile at each other as the post-orgasmic haze settles over us. “Grab a washcloth and clean yourself up, P. Pretend it’s me doing it.”
I shake my head, but I can’t get rid of my smile as I do what he says. When I settle back into my bed, cleaned up and in a silk sleep set, his smile grows, like he’s proud of me for listening or something. But that’s a stupid thought so I ignore it.
“Tomorrow I’ll be back, and I can come over if you want?” he offers.
“Maybe,” I respond noncommittally like I’ve been trying to. Setting plans feels too much like dating. The more spontaneous dares help remind me what we are.
“Get some sleep, P. You’re going to need it. I’ll see you soon.”
He just means so he can keep me up tomorrow to fuck me, I remind myself. “Night, Will.”
“Night, Porter.”