Page 45 of Snowballing

Was that an option? “I-”

“-an hour away from midnight. I’m joined by the Crown Prince of the Netherlands, Prince Matthijs, and his American fiancé-”

I had never hated Ryan Seacrest more in my life. I assumed when the app timed out, it reverted to live television.

The moment was broken - Eli had extracted himself from underneath my head.

“I’m going to get another beer. You want one?” he asked, from the safety of behind the couch, forgetting that I was likely already at my limit.

“Sure!”

Who was I kidding? Three was definitely over my limit, but maybe it would somehow get me closer to the fucking bulge that had been tempting me at every turn lately. I swear he didn’t wear any underwear when he was working out. That would explain the bare ass the other day on the stairs, and how I could see dick print all the other times.

It surprised me how much his daddy vibe excited me. I had never sought out older men, though most of my clients were just that. Granted, he had the body of someone ten years younger, so that made him stand out from the crowd. There was just something about him - the authority, and the stability. And his impressive dick was a definite bonus.

I certainly wasn’t about to tell him I had stopped escorting since we met, though I teased my cam fans about the story of our night in the hotel. I wondered if he’d ever had sex on camera.

About halfway into the beer, I had to know.

“Have you ever filmed yourself having sex, or would you?”

I took advantage of his surprise to scooch closer to him.

Once he regained his composure, he said, “If two isn’t your limit, then three definitely is, and to answer your question, yes.”

“Yes, to which part?”

“Both.”

Now, he was just fucking with me.

“Well, let’s hear the story.” Ryan Seacrest wasn’t more interesting than Eli Giordano’s sex tape. Maybe tapes?

Eli shrugged. “Not that big a deal. One guy I hired a few years back had a website. He asked if he could film us having sex, or more accurately, if I’d hold the camera and do POV shots.”

My jaw dropped, colliding with my hardening dick. “That’s hot,” tumbled out of my mouth.

Eli chuckled. “It’s a pretty good video. Up to a couple hundred thousand likes, I think.”

“It’s posted online?”

“You can’t see my face. That’s the only reason I was fine with it.”

It wasn’t his face I wanted to see. The room was suddenly a hundred degrees warmer.

“Did you turn up the heat?” I asked. I just knew my neck was red.

I stood up, but the tent in my corduroys was blindingly obvious. He noticed immediately, his eyes drawn to it. My dick was practically staring at him. I dropped back down to the couch.

“Can I get you some water? A cool washcloth?”

“A firehose,” I joked. Or you could take me into the dual shower and piss all over me, while I suck on your balls.

I was practically squirming now from the horniness, the images in my head making things worse. I could easily imagine Eli railing some twink, his impressive dick sliding in and out while I moaned in ecstasy, jacking off to the sight of it.

“I got both,” Eli said, returning.

I hadn’t thought to adjust my dick when he left, and now it was pushing to the side. The awkward pressure of it stuck like that was enough to keep it hard. I tensed my hole a few times, enjoying the torture of my dick straining against the fabric with each flex.