Chapter Five
Danny
Fuck Ezra Kowalski and his perfect forearms and annoyingly handsome face and that smirk. The one that should be fucking illegal.
Fuck him.
Except no, not fuck Ezra. Because I shouldn’t be thinking about fucking Ezra. That was a rabbit hole I was not going to go down. Not now. Not ever.
Not even if all I could see when I closed my eyes was the smile he’d given me in the bar when he’d leaned in close and lowered his voice like he was sharing a secret. And I wasn’t even going to begin to remember the way he’d smelled, like something deliciously spicy and sweet.
A fucking forbidden fruit if ever I’d seen one. Smelt one.
Fuck, he had me so turned around I didn’t even know which way was up.
And yet, here the fuck I was, lying on my sofa, shorts around my knees and dick in hand as I replayed the words he’d said to me. Sometimes you just have to get out and try things. You might surprise yourself and find something you like.
Did that mean he knew? Could he tell by looking at me that I was both utterly confused and ridiculously horny in equal measure?
That when he’d told me it would be good to get me in front of a camera, my mind had immediately gone to the idea of sending him nudes and videos of me jerking off while he was working.
Dammit, if Jonny and Devon could fuck in the changing room toilets, then I could film myself getting off in one of the stalls.
And if he maybe wanted more… wanted to watch me in person… wanted to film me himself…
Fuck! Why the hell was I thinking about any of this?
I should have been thinking about women. About tits and pussy. Not Ezra’s slightly greying stubble and the curl of his lips and how nice his hands were… His chest was nice too, kind of muscular, and I wondered what it would feel like if I touched it.
My hand slid under my T-shirt, grabbing my own pecs and squeezing, flicking my thumb over my nipple to draw a groan out of my throat. Okay, shit, if his chest felt like mine, I bet it would feel really good to play with.
Ezra definitely looked like he worked out.
Shit, just thinking about him in gym shorts and a vest top made my cock jump, precum spurting over my fingers.
I bet he wore the sort of shorts that were just loose enough not to be indecent but that I’d still be able to get a good look at his junk through them. Especially if he didn’t wear underwear.
Sure, it might be a bit uncomfortable if he had a big dick, but it would give me something nice to look at while I worked out. And maybe if he lay at the right angle on the bench while doing a chest press or while stretching, I’d be able to see up his short leg.
“F-Fuck,” I said with a gasp, stroking my cock faster as desperation surged through me. I needed to come, and I needed to come hard.
I squeezed my chest again and pinched my nipples, sending another burst of pleasure coursing across my skin. But it still wasn’t enough. I wanted, no, needed more.
For a split second, I froze.
Then my need to get off overrode any lingering irrational fears about someone figuring out what I’d done, and I pulled my hand out from under my T-shirt.
Lifting my fingers to my mouth, I sucked them, letting spit drip down my skin and run down my wrist. I spread my legs slightly and slowly slid my hand between my thighs, my other hand still furiously jerking my dick.
I gasped as my fingers grazed the furled skin of my hole.
It was more sensitive than I remembered, and the rush of pleasure was far more intense than the other night. The feeling of weirdness had started to fade too. It didn’t feel wrong. It felt good.
Really good.
Like “fuck, why didn’t I have any lube?” kind of good.
Okay, there was lube in my bedroom but I wasn’t getting up to go and find it. Not when I was already so fucking close to coming. And I was in no mood to draw this out and turn it into something sensual, whatever that meant.
“S-Shit, that… mmm.” I groaned as I teased my hole, letting the tip of one finger slowly start to press inside. It burned a bit, but it wasn’t really painful.
Then again, maybe I had a fucked-up idea of pain since I played rugby union for a living, and I’d once popped my own knee back in after a bad tackle had dislocated it. If you wanted pain, that was a good place to start. Closely followed by ripping off sports tape. That shit fucking stung.
Or maybe… maybe fingering your arse wasn’t supposed to be painful?
I mean, yeah, it would probably hurt if I shoved a fucking dildo up there un-lubed, without any kind of stuff beforehand, but I wasn’t going to do that.
And maybe it wasn’t for everyone, but given what I’d heard guys in the changing room say, then it had to feel good for some people.
Perhaps I was one of them.
I wasn’t going to think about what that might mean.
Especially not when I was trying to get off.
Instead I dove head first into my fantasies of Ezra, imagining him watching me from the armchair with one leg crossed over the other and a drink in hand. One of those cocktails he’d been drinking. Fantasy Ezra had a phone setup too, clipped into the middle of a ring light with the remote in hand.
I told you I’d get you in front of a camera again, Fantasy Ezra said in that sexy, low voice of his.
It suits you. Mmm, you’re such a pretty slut, aren’t you, Danny?
I bet it gets you hard knowing I’ll be able to watch you get off whenever I want.
Even when you’re not with me, you’re still being a good boy.
Don’t look at me, slut. Look at the camera.
That’s it… make yourself come for me. And if you do a good job, next time I’ll even help you.
I gasped, my chest heaving as my orgasm slammed into me, cum splattering across my skin and catching me completely by surprise. My fingertip was still just inside my arse, and my whole body felt like someone had set off fireworks in every single nerve ending.
Fantasy Ezra disappeared with a blink, leaving my head spinning while my body floated away without me.
Holy fucking shit.
What the hell had happened?
Did I have some sort of fucking praise kink?
No. That wasn’t it. At least, I didn’t think so?
No… it was more like… No, I didn’t know. I was sure there was a word for it; I just wasn’t sure what it was. Especially not right now when my brain seemed to have completely peaced out and left the building.
All I knew was I was completely out of my fucking depth.
And somehow, I wanted to go deeper.
Wiping my hand on my T-shirt, I reached into the pocket of my shorts, my fingers fumbling for my phone. It wasn’t there and for a second I panicked, because what if I’d left it somewhere, until I glanced down and saw it on the floor, the edge half under the sofa.
Huh, I hadn’t watched porn while I jerked off.
I’d used my imagination instead. That was, well, it wasn’t new, but it was something I hadn’t done in a while.
Usually, I was all for some visual or audio accompaniment, mostly to get me out of my own damn head, but apparently my brain had decided to supply its own material for once.
It had been really hot too.
And now I had to add that to the list of shit I was going to have to deal with at some point.
But not now.
Definitely not now.
Instead, I continued to make shit worse by opening Instagram and immediately searching for Ezra.
Normally, I’d have gone for something like Snapchat, but Ezra was, like, I didn’t know, forty?
I doubted he used Snap regularly. And I knew he didn’t have a personal TikTok because I’d heard him telling Leigh, who also did socials for the club, that he hated it.
I didn’t have Facebook, because I wasn’t that old. So Instagram it was.
He was surprisingly difficult to find, but eventually I managed to track him down by combing through the likes on some of the Knights posts. He had a private profile and the username was only part of his name, but the profile picture made it clear it was him.
I hit the request to follow button and wondered how long it would be before he accepted me.
It didn’t cross my mind that he’d say no, because why would he?
I was hot and he’d smirked at me, so he could at least do me the courtesy of letting me look through his grid.
And maybe answer a few questions. Like had he been flirting with me?
Or was I wildly misinterpreting the situation?
Because this was me, it could easily go either way.
The number of times I’d thought a girl was interested only to be shot down when I asked for her Snap was well into the double digits, maybe even triple, so it wasn’t like I was a good judge of this shit.
I glanced back at the screen hopefully. Still nothing.
With a sigh, I heaved myself off the sofa, kicked off my shorts and pants, scooped them up, and carried them through to the bathroom.
Dumping the dirty clothes in the laundry basket, I put some music on, grabbed my towel, and headed for the shower.
I didn’t have anything else to do for the evening, so I figured I might as well spoil myself with a nice shower, a face mask, and some TV, because I had some episodes of Love Island to catch up on as well as some of the women’s Euros.
I kept checking my phone, more out of habit than anything, but about half ten when I was tapping out a long rant to Charlie about one of the couples on Love Island, a notification popped up from Instagram.
Ezra had accepted my follow request.
And he’d sent me a message.
Ezra
Is there a reason you want to follow me?
Danny
Just curiosity
It was technically the truth. Just the vaguest version possible.
Ezra
What are you curious about?
Danny
Were there QR codes on the tables upstairs?
Ezra
Yes
Ezra
Did you enjoy your pina colada?
Danny
Yeah, it was sweeter than I thought but I liked it
Ezra
Good. If you ever want more drink recommendations, I’d be happy to give you some
Fuck, was he flirting with me? Or was this only a casual conversation? I didn’t even know if he liked dudes.
I flicked onto his Instagram, hurriedly scrolling through to see if I could find any hint he might be interested until I landed on a photo of him from Manchester Pride.
He was with a group of other men, a bright smile on his face as one of them kissed his cheek, and there was rainbow face paint across his temple.
Casually, I swiped through the other photos on the post until I found one of Ezra posing against a mural. But my eyes were more fixed on his shorts and low-cut shirt than the background.
My cock twitched in my joggers and I swore as I ground my palm over it, trying to ignore how horny I suddenly was.
Fuck it, I needed help.
And there was only one man I could ask.
Danny
If someone asks you if you liked a certain drink and then says they’d be happy to give you more recs, is that flirting or just being nice?
Charlie
Depends on the situation, why? Sounds like she’s trying to find a reason to see you again or keep talking to you.
Charlie
Are you out or at home?
Danny
At home, chatting to someone I met this afternoon after I left.
Charlie
Did she message you? Sounds like she wants to keep chatting. Don’t get too deep with it but ask about what she likes. Remember, you’ve gotta show you’re interested and not make it only about you
Danny
I can do that. Cheers
I wondered if I should tell Charlie I wasn’t chatting to a girl, but I didn’t fancy going into all the details. He’d want to get into it, and I had better things to do right now.
Like figure out what the fuck to say to Ezra to keep him chatting to me.