Chapter 14 #3
Of all the porn I’ve (admittedly) watched, I’ve never considered something involving edging.
I’ve never even considered it, but I’ll be scouring the internet for it going forward.
I’m desperate for release, I need to come, but I can’t, no matter how badly I crave it.
Not until he tells me I’m allowed. I can’t be greedy.
“Really turn these words over in your head.”
At the thought of turning something over, I roll onto my hands and knees. I shove my shorts and underwear further down, exposing my ass. I arch my back, imagining his phantom presence in my room, his eyes on me, following my every movement.
How is it possible to feel his teasing touch without him here?
My imagination runs wild, leaving no stone unturned to heighten the fantasy—Eric behind me, squeezing my ass, playing with me, exploring my cleft with his fingers and even his firm, hot tongue.
Taking care of me, transforming me into his talented, extraordinary goaltender.
What if he was more than just a supportive voice in my ear?
What if he was a physical force behind me, his chest covering my back, knees pressed into my legs, hand fisted into my hair as he fucked me without abandon, taking whatever he needed and more.
“Say it, James.”
I’d give him anything—my body, my mind, my soul.
When I speak again, I turn my head and speak in the direction of the phone, moaning helplessly as I touch myself slower at his unintended request.
“I’m… I’m a talented…” It’s difficult to form words while lost in the horny haze of my desperation, my yearning. “Extraordinary goaltender… who isn’t…”
My thumb swirls around my slit, smearing the precum, but I need more—a hot mouth, the slippery slide of a tongue along my length, hands roaming my touch-starved, waiting body, and, fuck, I need…
I need his solid frame at my back, strong hands holding my hips, a hard, thick cock driving into me over and over, crushing me to the bed, filling me, leaving no space between our bodies…
The building ache is too much. It’s getting harder and harder to be good for Eric. I’m losing control. What if he was pumping into my waiting, shaking body? What if it was just the two of us moving as one, reaching a mutual high together…
“Keep going, James. Finish it,” Eric nudges, his voice low and deep, a rumble in my ear.
From Eric’s command, the other half of the affirmation tumbles out of my mouth with a shrill whine.
“…who isn’t ruled by his fears!”
I bury my face into my mattress and make myself come at last, his order all the remaining permission I need to give in.
My eyes screw shut and all restraint and propriety evaporates.
My hand moves in sloppy, frantic movements around my cock, fingers too tight and yet not tight enough.
I’m gasping, struggling to get air into my lungs.
My hips buckle, my legs quiver, threatening to give out beneath me as white hot pleasure crests over.
Uncaring of the mess, I stroke rope after rope onto my bed while my thighs twitch.
When I’m completely spent, I collapse onto my bed with a soft huff, exhausted. Fingers curl into my sheets, and I sigh deeply. What an absolute rush. I haven’t had a climax that intense in months.
“Do you feel better now?” Eric asks moments later, causing my eyes to open wide.
Oh my God, that’s Eric. On speakerphone. I push off the bed and scramble for my phone before realizing my hands are a mess. I pull on my clothes and wipe my hand on my shirt, mortified yet grateful Eric can’t see me in person.
“James?”
I turn off speakerphone at last and hold my phone to my ear. “Yeah I… I’m here, sorry,” I mutter, face on fire. “I feel better, thanks.”
“Good. That’s great. I’m glad.”
Yet there’s a hard edge to his voice, something I can’t pin down over the phone. Too many seconds of awkward silence pass as I catch my breath and try to calm my racing pulse.
My fingers white-knuckle my phone as I lie in bed. “Eric?” I ask, unsure if he’s still there.
What are you even supposed to say or do following first-time, unintentional, one-sided phone sex? Am I supposed to unpack this in the moment? Do I just go on as if nothing happened?
Finally, Eric’s voice cuts through the questions in my mind gathering like a storm.
“Listen, James…”
My heart seizes in my chest. No, no, no, don’t say it. It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have made it weird. I need you. I don’t—
“Whenever the negative thoughts threaten to return, whenever you’re about to doubt yourself, just… just think of this moment.”
I’ll be thinking about a hell of a lot more than just his affirmation.
“Good luck in the playoffs. Remember, you deserve to be there. Do you know why, James?”
My heart skips a beat, and I can’t resist the tug of a small smile. “Because I’m a talented, extraordinary goaltender who isn’t ruled by his fears?”
“Exactly.”
God, I wish I could see him in person. If the Comets play well, I won’t have to wait much longer.
“Get some sleep.” He exhales deeply. “We’ll talk again soon.”
I could levitate off the bed. If he’s promising to talk to me soon, then…
“Goodnight, James.”
Overcome with relief, I whisper, “Night, Eric.”