Page 76 of Hacker in Love


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Hannah snickers. “Hey, at least, you’re a one-eyed man in the Land of the Blind. That makes you far more qualified than me to be our fearless leader.”

It takes me a split-second to process her words and understand the joke. Namely, that she’s referring to my dick—the one-eyed jack between my legs that’s currently opening his singular eye wide and shouting, “Let’s get this show on the road, motherfucker!”

I crack up as the meaning of Hannah’s joke dawns on me, and she immediately dissolves into laughter along with me—and, quickly, it’s clear this is the ice breaker we’ve both needed. Just this fast, all awkwardness from a moment ago is gone.

“God, you look good,” I say. “So fucking hot.”

She tugs on her pajamas and winks. “You’ve got a flannel fetish, do you?”

“No, I’ve got a Hannah Banana fetish.” I sigh from the depths of my soul. “I’d give anything to kiss and touch you right now.”

“Me, too. But hang in there. We’ll be kissing and touching in three short weeks.”

“You think that’s short? That sounds like a lifetime to me.”

“I’m trying to stay positive, babe. Just think how amazing our reunion is gonna be.”

“I can’t wait. I’m gonna kiss you like you’ve never been kissed before.”

“Ooh, tell me more.” She bites her lip. “In fact, why don’t you tell me all the fun things you’re going to do to me when we’re finally together again.”

Well, first off, I’m gonna tell you I love you. That’s the thought that immediately pops into my head. But what I say out loud is, “Well, like I said, I’m gonna give you the kiss of your life. And then, I’m gonna rip off your clothes and kiss every damned inch of you.”

“I’m gonna kiss every damned inch of you, too.” She tilts her head, looking adorably mischievous. “Can I see every inch of you now?”

“You want to see my hunky, hot body, huh?”

“I do.”

“Your wish is my command. Hang on.” I place my computer on a small entertainment center across from my hotel bed, and when the framing looks right, I grab my phone and find “Birdhouse in Your Soul”—the quirky song I’ve thought of as our song, ever since our conversation about it in Vegas. As the music begins, I climb onto the mattress and stand facing my opened laptop with my hands on my hips. “Can you see every inch of me?” I call out to Hannah on my laptop screen.

“Yes, although a whole lot of those inches are covered by sweatpants. That’s not what I had in mind, sir.”

“I was merely confirming we’ve got the right framing, ma’am. The full Monty is coming.” As Hannah hoots her approval, I launch into a gyrating striptease that begins with me playfully pulling on the waistband of my sweatpants and ends with me throwing my boxers onto the floor to reveal my straining hard-on. Through it all, whatever inhibitions I might have started the dance with melt away, thanks to Hannah’s enthusiastic hooting, clapping, and cheering.

“You want to see my dick doing its impression of Cirque Du Soleil?” I shout to Hannah.

She laughs. “More than I want to breathe.”

I begin chaotically jumping up and down on the bed, which causes my hard-on to do all manner of acrobatics, and Hannah guffaws. Am I making a fool of myself? Probably. Should I feel embarrassed she’s basically laughing at my dick? Maybe. But I don’t care, because there’s a method to my madness. A higher purpose to my silliness. Shyness is rooted in a fear of being embarrassed or feeling shame, so I’m hoping by me being willing to thoroughly embarrass myself, I’ll put Hannah at ease. Make her realize this is a safe space where we can both let it all hang out. Perhaps there’s a smoother, cooler way to get Hannah in the mood to have virtual sex with me, but whatever that is, it’s simply not my style.

As the song ends, I stop jumping around and pose in the middle of the bed like a naked superhero, my chest heaving with my exertion, my hands on my hips, and my erection at full mast. “This hard-on’s for you, baby! Because I’m imagining putting it inside you!”

Whooping, Hannah barrels toward her computer, her lips puckered, and when she reaches it, she begins furiously kissing what I’m presuming is every inch of my naked body on her screen. To my delight, when she straightens up, she steps back and begins peeling off her pajamas without me even needing to ask—first, her top, and then her bottoms and panties.

“Oh, God, Hannah,” I say, my eyes drinking in her naked body. “I’ve missed seeing you like this. You look so fucking good.” I get off the mattress, grab my computer, and bring it back to bed with me. “I can’t wait to kiss you. Touch you. Lick you.”

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