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“Oh fuck.”
I kept going, hitting some part of me that had never experienced pleasure before, a part of me that shot stars directly across my vision. I stopped finger fucking myself and instead focused on rubbing that spot, feeling myself swollen and aching. I pushed and rubbed, opening my legs, lifting one so that I leaned on a ledge of the soaps. This opened me wider. My balls hung in the air, moving as I started grinding my ass back onto my finger, that spot growing warmer and warmer, my vision tunneling, my muscles tightening and loosening.
An orgasm hit me with the same intensity as a car crash. I hadn’t even touched my cock, and it began to explode, shooting come onto the shower wall, rope after rope. My ass clenched tight around my finger with every single shot. Animalistic grunts escaped me. Noises I didn’t recall ever making as my balls unloaded, the wall looking like a Jackson Pollock painting by the time I was done.
I pulled my finger slowly out of me, the sensation threatening to knock me off my feet. It didn’t help that my knees were shaking after that assault of an orgasm I experienced. Oxygen was difficult to find. I took a few deep breaths. It felt like I’d just been given the key to a secret city, one I only knew about. And it was filled with expensive wine and sex swings and Shiro. Everything I’d ever want.
Under the rainfall I went, dropping my head back, letting the water run down my spent muscles. As the minutes started to tick by, I realized that my hunger wasn’t satiated. My cock still hung heavy between my legs, my hole still twitching. As good as fingering myself felt, as great as it was to come without any hands on my dick, I still wanted more.
I wanted Shiro. I wanted him to be spreading my legs apart, feeling me from the inside.
I jerked off one more time, surprised at just how much come I sent down the drain. After toweling off, my dick went back down to manageable levels, only a slight bulge appearing as I pulled on my white shorts. I didn’t even bother throwing on a shirt. I went over to the plush bed and dropped down onto the memory foam mattress, the quilt sinking with my weight. The pillows were equally luxurious, feeling as if they had been spun from clouds and silk. I shut my eyes, feeling a deep exhaustion settle into my bones, caressing my muscles.
It wasn’t a whole five minutes later when my phone started to ring. I checked, surprised that I even had service. Except it wasn’t a phone call; it was a FaceTime call, one that could come in through Wi-Fi.
And it was coming from my mother.
I rolled over on the bed, accepting the call, wondering what in the world she could be calling me about. Normally, she had one of the palace assistants reach out to me if she needed something. A FaceTime call was highly unusual.
Unless…
No. There’s no way…
My heart started to pound as I sat up straighter against the headboard, pillow propped against my back. Had pictures gotten out? Was someone in the bathroom?
“Hola, mamá,” I said as the call connected, the image slightly pixelated and a lag causing my mom’s smile to appear lopsided. She had her brown hair falling down in rivers onto her freckled shoulders, her hair shining even through the pixelated screen.
“Nicholas! Oh, I’ve missed that handsome face of yours.”
“Mamá, I’ve only been gone three days.”
“That’s close to ten years in our time. You know that. With how fast things move over here, I feel like I’ll be twenty-four years older by the time you get back.”
Okay, if she’s acting like this, then she hasn’t seen any pictures.
I relaxed slightly. “Is everything okay over there?”
“Oh sí, of course everything’s okay. What I can’t call my son if I’m missing him?”
“You can, I just—”
“Ay, look! Hold on, Nicholas, look who it is. Come over, don’t be shy.”
Half of my mom’s lagged-out face disappeared from the screen, and half stayed on. It didn’t take long for her face to be completely replaced by someone else’s.
The spontaneous FaceTime call made sense then, and it took everything in me not to tap the End Call button right then.
“Hola,” said Catherine Meis, a girl who had been around my family since I could remember, and one whom my mother tried pushing on me almost since as far as I could remember. She was the daughter of the world-renowned Ricardo Meis, the founder of a tech company valued at more than a billion dollars. An entirely different kind of royalty from my family, and one my mother always salivated at the idea of unionizing.
I didn’t have time or patience for this. Leave it to my mother to try and hook me up with someone only days after I announced my breakup.
