Page 40 of The Lipstick Flip

And I wasn’t quite so cock-drunk that I didn’t think, briefly, that he lived ten minutes away, tops, and I could be there. In under ten minutes, if my dick was doing the driving. But for maybe the first time in my life, I thought I knew what was going on. And why he’d waited to do this over the phone.

I couldn’t help my grin.

“Not that!” But Noah giggled. “You don’t get the booty right away.”

“You’re the one who brought it up.”

“I was reminiscing. I was being romantic.”

“We could stress-test some of the walls in that fancy condo.”

“No, no, no, no, no, no, no.” But he was grinning too. And then the grin faded into something more serious as he continued to touch himself.

“Well, first I’d get your hand off your dick,” I said. “Because we’re going to play with that later.”

Noah swallowed, and the last of the grin faded. He let go of his dick.

“I’d kiss your shoulder,” I said. “I’d kiss your neck. You know that spot behind your ear?”

Noah made a soft sound and raised two fingers to the spot.

“I’d play with those pretty tits,” I said. “You keep touching them, but you need somebody else to do that for you.”

“Your fingers are so strong,” he murmured.

“Yeah, and I love playing with your pretty titties. And I love playing with your pretty dick, too.”

For the first time, I let myself touch my own dick. I was harder than I’d realized, and even though I didn’t normally leak, a fat drop of pre gleamed on my slit. I gave myself a tug and made a sound—part need, part something else, something animal.

“I’d want your mouth on my dick,” I said, “before I let you come.”

Noah’s pink lips parted as though he was ready for me.

“You’d jerk me while my dick was in your mouth. You’d get me real close.”

“You’re so big,” Noah said. “God, Howie, I forgot how big.”

“You didn’t forget,” I said with a laugh.

And Noah blushed—a deep, startled red that bloomed in his chest and ran up his neck. His mouth opened a little more, and he made a noise like he was shocked and hurt and needing. And like he was ashamed of it.

I could feel the veins on the shaft of my dick. Feel myself closing the gap. “Do you want to jerk off while I’m fucking your face?” I said. “Or do you want me to shoot my load all over you, and then play with your pretty little dick until you’re crying for me to let you come, begging me to fuck you, anything to get yourself off.”

“Oh fuck,” Noah muttered in a different voice. “Howie.”

“Go on.”

He grabbed his dick and started to jerk. My own hand moved faster and faster.

“Oh fuck,” Noah said again, this time the words high and strangled, and then his head fell back, and he shot his load all over his stomach. Three spurts. Four. Five. That cute little dick came with an expanded magazine.

For me, it came like clouds gathering at the horizon, everything closing in, the load building until it seemed like it was at the tip of my dick. And then I came, and the world narrowed.

It took me a few seconds to reboot. Fat streaks of come covered my chest, but I’d gotten some on my jaw and cheek, and more had gotten in my hair. Probably not the first self-facial in the history of dicks, but maybe another new record. The smell of it filled the room. My dick was still half-hard, and for a single moment, I thought I should drive over right now and fuck Noah, because with us, sex had always been better after we’d taken the edge off.

On the other end of the call, Noah made this distressed little bleat. He squirmed around against the pillows he’d used to prop himself up, curling up like a cat, eyes half-closed, face soft.

“How are you doing over there?” I asked.