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“Hang on,” I say as I reach for the nightstand and open the drawer that contains my toys and lube. “Don’t get too far ahead of me.” I grab the lube and lie back on the bed.
“I’m just getting warmed up,” Cameron says.
He’s put his phone on speaker. It’s not as intimate, not nearly the same sense of having him right in my ear, as if he were leaning over me, and I could feel the rumble of his voice as he spoke, his hand stroking me—
“I’m plenty warm,” I say. I put my phone on speaker, place it on the pillow next to me, then tear off my T-shirt and toss it to the floor.
“Are you getting naked?” Cameron asks.
“As quickly as I can,” I say. I’m about to push my shorts and briefs down my legs when Cameron stops me.
“Leave them on, but touch your cock,” he says.
“Inside or outside?”
“Inside.”
I pour some lube into my right hand, then curl my fingers around my palm so I can ease my way past the waistbands of my shorts and briefs without getting lube everywhere.
“Fuck,” I say as I open my hand and take hold of my cock. The liquid has warmed from being held, but it’s still slick and the change in sensation makes me suck in a breath.
“Good?”
“Yeah.”
Cameron groans.
“You touching yourself?” I ask even though I know he is.
“Wishing it was your hand on me.”
My hips punch forward, pushing my cock through my fist. “Fuck, same. Tell me what you look like.”
“You know what I look like, Ty.” There’s a tease to Cameron’s voice.
“And you know what I mean.”
“Hm. I do.”
Another low moan, and I’m picturing Cameron lying in a bed with dark sheets, pale skin glowing in the dim light. He’s got his legs splayed open, cock on full display hard and dripping, balls drawing up close to his body, one leg bent to give himself leverage as he pushes into his hand. And this time, it’s my turn to groan.
“Fuck, Cam, tell me what you look like? Are you cut? Thick? Veins? Curves? I need the visual.”
He huffs out a breath. “I’m about six inches, girthy.”
“Like more than you can get your hand around?” I ask, praying that my voice doesn’t betray my anxiety. I’m not a size queen, or would have an issue with a larger than average guy, but I haven’t been with a lot of guys, so the thought of taking someone wielding a club scares me a bit.
Cameron chuckles, and I feel a twinge of embarrassment knowing I’ve given myself away. “Not that big.”
He pauses, and I hear what sounds like his hand sliding up and down his slick shaft, the slight squelch as he drags his hand across his tip. He groans. Then exhales. I follow, repeating the same movements I just imagined him doing. It feels so good, and the tension in my balls and taint, at the base of my cock makes everything feel tighter.
I’m aware of my body in ways that never happen when I’m not aroused, and run my hand down between my legs, scraping my finger along my taint, giving a slight tug to my balls. The tight confines of my briefs makes it impossible not to feel how high they’ve drawn. I hitch my left leg up, place my foot flat on the bed and pull back my thigh with my free hand so I can get to my hole and tease at it with my fingertips. I want to thrust back so badly, to impale myself on my fingers. I don’t stifle the rumble that leaves my mouth.
“Whatever you just did sounds like you liked it,” Cameron says.
“Yeah.” I press against my opening, gasp a bit as the tip of one finger eases past the knotted skin to the silky smooth interior. “God, Cam, I’m so hard.”
“Me too, Ty.”
