Chapter 7 #2
Say yes. Say you need me to come over and make sure you’re not lonely anymore.
“Hmm. I don’t know.”
It’s probably pervy of me to be so distracted by the way he toys with his bottom lip while he thinks his answer over, but I am who I am.
“For me, I think some of the struggle is guilt. We were fighting a lot before she died. She went to visit friends in Miami to get some space. We fought again on the phone when she got there. That night, the hotel she was staying in collapsed. I woke up to a phone call from the police.”
Jesus. Thinking about it now, I remember that story being all over the news. It can’t be easy for Fallon having those reminders thrown in his face all the time.
And waking up to find out his wife was gone? No fucking wonder he can’t sleep.
“Cut that shit out. You can’t blame yourself for faulty architecture. You’re not that powerful. Bet she’d tell you so herself if she could.”
Her death wasn’t his fault, and it wasn’t hers either. Still, I hate her for this hold she has on Fallon still. Since I didn’t know her, I figure I can hate her all I want.
He smiles slightly. “Maybe you’re right. I think the rest of it is the type of relationship she and I had. She made most of the decisions. In and out of the bedroom.”
Okaaay, I like where this is going. The blush that rises to his cheeks is sexy as hell. “Oh yeah? I need to know more.”
Like fucking breathing, I need to know more.
“Well.” He pulls his knees to his chest. “I guess when all the structure in your life comes from one person, it messes you up a little when that person is gone. I had a pretty successful writing career, but I couldn’t focus anymore.
I took a teaching job, which honestly saved my life.
It gave me a reason to get out of bed in the morning.
My personal life, though… It’s been pretty nonexistent.
At least until I met this younger man who gave me one of the best nights of my life and made me question everything. ”
Well, fuck. If he’s cracking that door open, I am going to bust right on in.
I give him my best grin. The one that gets me laid. The one that makes my clients think I’m charming when I’m not.
“Tell me more about this best night of your life, and how would this guy hypothetically get a chance to take a shower with you again?” Flirting with him is the worst idea in the world. I’ve already crossed so many lines with him, though.
And WHY is he so sexy when he’s embarrassed? Face red, head down, lips bitten together. I can’t fucking handle it.
Did I mention he’s wearing glasses? Wire-rimmed. Gold frames. The sight of him like this gives me chills. Delicious.
“The fact that Marina and I had a twenty-four-seven relationship, that’s not weird to you?”
I think back to that earlier conversation on the group chat. “Were you happy?”
His answer is a deep breath that he lets out slowly. “I…”
I’m straining to hear the end of a sentence that doesn’t come.
For a little while, he’s gazing at something off in the distance. The night we spent together, I mostly watched him while he slept, but during my snooping I noticed a picture of his late wife on the dresser. Is that what he’s looking at now? Or is he lost in a memory?
“For the most part,” he says after a minute.
I want to know more. I want to know what parts he wasn’t happy with. I want to fill in those holes with myself and make it so he’s never lonely again.
Right now, though, I have a different thought.
“You know what I just realized? You said you don’t sleep much. But you slept the whole night I spent at your place.”
That’s definitely not a thing friends say. I’m torn between wanting to walk it back and wanting to give myself a trophy for giving the guy who hasn’t slept in a year a solid night’s rest.
“The power of orgasms, I guess.” His entire neck turns red.
“Sounds like a good J-O session would help you out right now.” One of my foster mothers would’ve said the devil has my tongue right now. She’d be right.
He shrugs. “I don’t know…”
My brain supplies the helpful suggestion that I should sit up in bed. Show him more of my body. Even if I’m not extremely built like some guys, I do okay. I work out regularly since escorting requires a certain amount of focus on my appearance.
His eyes widen when I sit up. I angle the camera so he can see where the pooled fabric has come down, so it’s barely but not quite covering my hips, and my dick, which is very hard.
“Like what you see, Fallon?”
His eyes go all hooded. “Yes, PJ, I do.”
“Good. I like what I’m seeing a lot, so you know. I’m going to need more.”
He fumbles with the camera, giving me a magnificent view of his lower body. He’s watching me back as intensely as I’m watching him, which I like a lot more than I should.
“What…do you want me to do?” He’s already a little breathless.
I like that more than I should too.
“Show me what’s causing that tent in your shorts, big guy. First time I’ve been this turned on by another guy’s dick, and I didn’t get to see enough of it during our shower. If you think about it, you kind of owe me.”
He’s biting his lip (hot), but he’s frowning like I’ve said something that bothers him, and I don’t know if I’ve pushed too much. I’m rewarded when he reaches down and fishes his stiff cock out of his boxers.
“Boy, are you big,” I murmur.
More blushing. “I’m six-two and two hundred pounds. It’s proportional to the rest of me.”
“If you fucking say so.” I grin. I kind of wonder if I’d ever take him.
The day before our date, I practiced with a dildo in case certain things were requested of me that I hadn’t done before.
It wasn’t entirely comfortable, but the naughtiness and excitement of doing something new turned me on.
Things got considerably better once I discovered how to stimulate my prostate.
“Well, now that I’ve got it out, what do you want me to do?”
“Show me how to make you feel good. If I were with you right now, how would you want me to touch you?” It’s a risky thing to say, but he complies.
Doesn’t point out that friends don’t touch other friends’ dicks.
He strokes himself, root to tip, occasionally sort of twisting his hand a little around his crown.
“Too bad I’m not there to lube that thing up,” I tell him. I don’t exactly mean to lick my lips suggestively. Sometimes these things just happen.
Sexy red splotches spread from his neck to his chest, telling me he likes what I have to say.
“You like the sound of that, huh? That’s it,” I breathe. It’s all I can do not to climb through the phone. “Show me what you like. Show me how you fuck your fucking fist.”
A frustrated-sounding groan bursts out of him as he thrusts upward.
He’s angled the phone so I can see the way the muscles in his hips and thighs flex with the effort.
I find my hips flexing too, thinking about sliding my cock against him, about sliding inside that ass, riding his crease, pretty much anything that might cause enough friction to make us both come hard.
I torture myself by keeping both hands on the phone. The thin cotton sheet sliding against my dick is both delicious and maddening, but this isn’t about me getting off right now. It’s about him. Seeing him lost in the pleasure I’m helping him find.
“Faster.” It’s a harsh whisper; a voice I hardly recognize as my own.
We’re so far past the friend zone. Past the escort-client zone. Fuck all of it. This version of Fallon is the one I want. And right now it’s all for me.
“What else do you want?” he whispers back.
“Tell me what you like. What makes you feel good?”
“I…I like being restrained,” he gasps, seeming startled that he said the words out loud.
“Next time,” I promise. “What else?”
“I like someone touching my nipples.” His hips jerk faster as he reaches his free hand up, twisting and pulling at the sensitive flesh. That sure brings back memories.
“I’ve never been jealous of someone else’s hand more in my life. If it were anyone’s other than yours, I’d kick the shit out of them for touching you like that.”
He laughs, the red on his neck and chest deepening. It’s fine. He can think I’m joking. He’ll learn.
“Tell me what else you like.”
“Uh.” His breath stutters. He’s panting with each jerk of his cock. “You want to know what else I like when I’m jerking off, or…?”
“I want to know every fucking thing about you, baby.”
“I like…” He slows his strokes. Edging himself, maybe? Hell yeah.
“You like…”
“Uh, pain. A little. Praise.”
Is that what he liked with his wife? Is he missing those things, and what will it take to be the person who gives him what he needs? That I’m wondering makes me think I must like a little pain myself.
“Tell me more.”
“Sometimes when I’m stroking myself, I like to use a vibrating plug. Or a prostate massager. Put it on a low setting and kind of…torture myself…while I’m…” His rhythm falters. His eyes glaze over.
“Holy fuck, that sounds hot. You got one you can show me?”
“Yeah. I… Yeah.”
Since he seems hesitant, I add, “Unless you’re not into that tonight.”
He shakes his head. “No, I-I like this. I need a second. Always had a bit of an exhibitionist streak, but I haven’t done this in front of someone before.”
He never fucked a toy in front of his wife? I want to ask about that so, so badly, but I’ll bite my tongue off before I kill the vibe we’ve got going on right now.
The camera wiggles as he reaches sideways, coming back with a small bottle of lube and a plain-looking black butt plug.
I’m captivated as he lathers it up and slides it inside, angling the camera so I can see every second. Then he presses on the end, starting up a barely audible buzz that gets my pulse thumping. Immediately, he groans at the added sensation. I want to be in that room and touching him so bad.
“I love those noises you make. Those sounds are all for me, aren’t they? You got one of those with a remote control?”
He shakes his head, eyes squeezed shut like he’s either blocking out the vibrations or they’re all he can focus on. I’ll have to save the idea of controlling his orgasms for another time. And there will be another time. I’ve decided.
“Fuck yourself, Fallon. Lube up that hand. I wanna see you slide your dick through your fist while you work that plug.”
“I can’t,” he breathes. “Not enough hands. I’d have to let go of the phone.”
“Can’t have that, can we? Okay, I got too excited. Let me see you stroke yourself. I want to see you come right in front of my face.”
“Aaagh.” He jerks faster, shuttling his hand up and down, and I can see the power of that amazing fucking plug, because every time his thighs flex, his asshole squeezes, pushing that toy into him just enough to make the most inhuman moans come out of his mouth.
I’m betting if I watched some hardcore animal mating on a documentary, I wouldn’t hear noises this goddamn primal.
“That thing’s driving you crazy, isn’t it, baby?
That vibration right against your prostate?
It’s driving me crazy. I want you so much right now.
It’s killing me to be all the way on the other side of town.
I wish it were my hand stroking you. I want that plug to be my dick.
I want to touch every single inch of your skin, and I want to see you drowning in so much pleasure it’s fucking painful. You want that, Fallon?”
His only answer is a deep, long moan, and then his dick erupts, all over his hand and his abs. All I can do is drink him in, looking rumpled and debauched and covered in his own cum. The heaving of his chest slowly abates. He’s got a sleepy, dazed look in his eyes.
Kind of feel like I’ve done my job here. Makes me feel about ten feet tall and satisfied as hell.
My boner’s throbbing so hard you could probably hear its heartbeat from space. I can take care of that in a minute. What I wanted was to make Fallon feel good, to help him relax so he could get to sleep, and that’s what I did.
Not that this wasn’t selfish, too. This door’s been opened; the one that leads from the friend zone to something more. I’m wedging my foot in here so he can’t close it again.
“Okay, baby,” I say into the camera. I’m still a little pissed I can’t be there in person. “Clean yourself up and get to sleep. You look ready now.”
“What about you?” He looks into the camera and then glances down, as if he can see my hard-on even though it’s out of frame.
“Mm, I got exactly what I wanted. I told you before, you need a keeper. You’re not eating or sleeping well. At least now you’ll be able to get some rest.”
“Yeah.” His eyelids droop. “I do feel tired now.”
To Fallon this is probably a little casual phone sex. He doesn’t realize I’m laying a claim here. I probably ought to clue him in, but I don’t want to startle him now.
Which is why I need to get off the phone.
“Good.” I give him a grin. “Okay, baby. Lights out now. Promise me you’ll get some sleep.”
His eyelids droop. “Promise. Thanks, PJ.”
“Anytime.”
Anything for you.