Page 30 of Every November

No I wouldn’t.

Me:

Mmm, good boy.

Evan:

Please, Marcus. Need to come

Me:

Not yet

Think about me buried deep inside you, pounding into you, my hand wrapped around your dick, milking you for every last drop.

Evan:

Marcus!!

Me:

Come for me

Those words, that visual, send me over the edge. My phone drops onto the bed beside me as I stroke myself through my orgasm. Hot ropes of cum land on my stomach, and I wish it was his. Fucking hell.

For a second, I just lie there, catching my breath while I stare at my ceiling. I wish he were here with me instead of just on the other side of my phone screen, but I’ll take it. I’ll take him in any way I can get him.

I pick my phone back up and there’s a new text from him.

Evan:

Holy fuck

Me:

I wish I was there to see you covered in your cum

It might be a risk, but I take a photo of myself from the chest down covered in my release and send it to him before I can overthink it. I want him to know what he does to me, to have this photo if he’s ever horny again and thinking of me.