Chapter 27
Gray
Two days later, I sit with three other panelists in a meeting room of the convention center in Orlando. We just finished our presentation session, and it’s time for the Q&A portion.
“This question is for Dr. Mackey,” a man says as he stands, and I cringe inwardly.
When I was younger, I used to hope people asked me questions at these conferences because it felt like their interest validated my work.
I’ve learned better since. Chances are, this man’s question will either be an excuse to argue with me, or it will be preceded by a five-minute summary of his own research. Or both.
I go cold as I realize people may also ask me about my relationship with Ash. God, I hope not. Is it too much to hope I’ll be spared the scrutiny of my love life at an academic conference?
“So I recently published a paper that suggests,” the man starts, and I breathe a sigh of relief. I’ve never been so happy to get a monologuer in my life, and I settle back in my chair to listen to his theory and the tenuous way he thinks it might inform my research.
Fifteen minutes later, the session is finally over, and I make it out unscathed. No one asked me about Ash, and my faith has been restored in my fellow scholars.
“Dr. Mackey?”
I turn to find two young women and a young man standing there, and I know I’ve relaxed too soon. I smile politely. “Yes?”
“Sorry to bother you, but…is it true you’re dating Ash Gunnarsson?” one of the girls asks, and I’m careful to keep my expression neutral even as I clench my teeth.
“That’s what the media seems to think,” I say coolly.
“And are you working with him on trash talk?” the guy asks. “Because the news says you aren’t, but that seems like a missed opportunity.”
I raise a brow at the kid, and he tries to backtrack.
“I mean, no offense, but you have access to a professional athlete-,” he hurries to explain.
“I’m sorry to cut this short,” I say in the most apologetic voice I can muster, “but I have a meeting with a colleague.”
I turn and walk away without another word. Normally I’m happy to talk to grad students, which I assume these three are, but my relationship with Ash, or whatever it is, is off-limits.
I pull out my phone to check my messages. As if mentioning his name summoned him, I see a text from Ash. I pull up the message but stop dead in the middle of the hallway when the picture text comes through.
“Excuse me,” someone says as they knock into my shoulder. The man veers to the side to get around me, and I apologize as he hurries past.
I cut to the side so I’m near the wall out of traffic, and I look down at my phone again…at the new dick pic Ash has sent me.
I was too shocked the first time he sent me a pic to take a good look, but I study it now like I’m a detective examining a crime scene photo. Christ Jesus. Is that what was grinding against me the other day?
I stare at the pic for a good minute before deciding how to reply. Finally, I type out a message and send it.
Gray
You did it again. This is GRAY’s phone, not GRACE’s.
I stare at the screen, watching for the three dots, but they don’t come. I can’t stand in the hall all day, so I’m about to put my phone away when a laughing emoji pops up and the dots appear.
Ash
Oh shit! Not again!
Ash
Well, since you’ve already seen it, what do you think?
There’s a couple different ways to take that, and I purposely choose the wrong one.
Gray
The lighting is good, but I’m not sure about the angle of the picture. Remember that photography is all about framing.
A pause before the dots appear again.
Ash
I never took art in school. What’s wrong with the angle?
Gray
The camera position makes it look foreshortened. It’s hard to tell how big it is. Try a different angle. Also, do you have something you can put next to it for scale?
Another pause before the dots bounce.
Ash
Hmm. I see your point. Hold on.
I wait, but there’s nothing for another minute. When a second pic finally comes through, I clamp a hand over my mouth to hold in a snort of laughter. The pic is taken from an angle that better showcases Ash’s ample length, and he’s holding a cucumber against his erect cock.
I stand there for several seconds trying to hold in my laughter before I’m able to start typing again.
Gray
Much better angle, but cucumbers can vary by type. I mean, is that a pickling cucumber? An English cucumber? A Kirby?
The dots bounce.
Ash
There’s more than one type of cucumber???
Ash
Hold on.
I smile. The hall around me is almost clear as the next presentation sessions begin, but I no longer have any desire to listen to a lecture.
I look around to be sure there’s no one close by. There’s a guy that looks more like a bouncer than a professor typing on his phone a little ways down, but he glances at me and goes back to his own conversation a second later.
A pic comes in. This time Ash has taken all the guesswork out of things. There’s a tape measure rolled out against his dick that reads seven and a half inches.
Holy shit. The man is nearly eight inches long.
Another pic comes through, this time with the tape measure held lengthwise across his cock. Just over two inches. He’s thick as well.
We never measured Drew, but I’d guess he was five inches, and I try to imagine where my body would fit nearly three more inches of Ash.
I lean back against the wall and push out a deep breath as I contemplate my response for a long while before starting to type.
Gray
Impressive. But why are you sending me pics of your dick?
Ash
Do you want the snarky answer or the real one?
I want the real one, but…
Gray
The snarky one.
The dots bounce for a while.
Ash
It’s fun to think of you sitting in your conference listening to some stuffy old academic drone on while you look at a pic of my cock. Are you blushing? Please tell me there are tons of people around you.
I chuckle.
Gray
Asshole. {{winking emoji}}
Gray
Actually, I’m standing in the hall alone. You caught me between sessions.
And I won’t go to the next one now. I need to go back to my hotel room and relieve some tension.
My phone pings with the next text.
Ash
Now do you want to know the real reason I sent the pics?
More than anything in the world, but I shouldn’t say yes. To let him tell me is dangerous. Dangerous to my emotions. Dangerous to my mental equilibrium. Just…dangerous.
Gray
Yes.
The dots bounce for a long time as I hold my breath. There’s a tempest in my chest that makes me wonder if I should see a cardiologist.
Ash
I’m showing you my cock because you should get used to the idea of having it inside you. To want it inside you. I want you to spend the rest of your trip imagining what I plan to do to you when you get back, because I’m done waiting, and I’m done pretending. I want you, and I plan to have you.
I brace myself against the wall as my legs almost give out. Forget trying to make it back to my hotel room. I’m not sure I can walk anymore.
Scratch that. I have to get out of this hall before I start moaning.
I marshal my strength and force myself to move unsteadily back toward my room. I should leave the conversation at that…but of course I can’t. Or I won’t.
I type out a new message, hesitate, then send it.
Gray
And what exactly do you plan to do to me?
Ash
Gray
And what exactly do you plan to do to me?
Her text comes in, and I nearly blow my load right there. I was fairly certain she wanted me too, but there was always a chance I misread her cues, and she’d be horrified by that text I just sent.
She’s not. She wants to know what I have planned, and I’m more than happy to tell her. After I tease her a bit.
Ash
That depends. Do you want me to make love to you, or do you want me to fuck you?
That’s a hazardous question, but her answer will tell me how to proceed. After all, she doesn’t know about my particular appetites yet, and I don’t want to scare her off.
I wait.
And wait.
My phone doesn’t indicate she’s typing, and I start to panic. If the question alone scared her, that’s not a good sign.
Finally the dots bounce, and I hold my breath until her reply pops onto the screen.
Gray
I want you to fuck me.
I sag in relief into the couch. I’m not opposed to being gentle once in a while or going slow, but it’s the emotional landmines of ‘making love’ that worry me. I want Gray, but I’m not looking to plan a future with her just yet, and I hope she understands that.
I freeze as something occurs to me. What if Gray does know that, and she’s only giving me the answer she thinks I want to hear? What if she doesn’t really want me to fuck her but she suspects making love would be a non-starter for me?
I’m paralyzed with indecision as my fingers hover over the phone’s keyboard. Can I take her answer at face value and tell her all the dirty, filthy things I want to do to her, or should I play it safe for now?
I need to do some more testing.
Ash
Can you take all of me?
I’m only half hard, so the pic with the tape measure probably undersells me, but let’s see how she reacts.
The dots bounce.
Gray
I don’t know. I’ve never had a cock that big.
Ash
So I’ll be stretching that tight little pussy of yours?
The thought of how snug she’ll be makes me harder. I gather from our conversations she hasn’t had sex in a while, although I don’t know what her self-pleasuring habits might be. Still, I’m confident she’s going to squeeze me pretty hard.
Gray
Yes.
Ash
Are you afraid it will hurt?
Gray
It’s alright if it does. I can handle it.
I push out another breath of relief as I stiffen even more. She’s not afraid of a little pain, which means I can be rough with her.
I’m not a sadist. I don’t enjoy hurting women – the opposite, in fact – but I also don’t hold back when my passions are driving me, and I don’t want to worry about handling Gray with kid gloves. I need a woman who can take what I give her, however hard and fast that may be.
Time to see how far I can push things.
Ash