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Me: Could I call you?
He’s silent for a bit, and I have to squeeze my throbbing erection and massage my heavy balls as they ache for release. Fuck, he’s right. I should just hop in one of the showers and milk the horniness right out of myself.
I don’t want to, though.
I want B to touch me.
I want Blair to touch me.
Fuck, what have I done?
B: Give me five minutes to get somewhere without prying ears.
Me: I don’t think it’s going anywhere.
B: And I’m the smartass?
While I wait, I go ahead and head over to the shower cubicles. None of them seem to be occupied, so I pick one furthest away from either of the doors and pull the curtain closed. I figure I’ll wait to turn the water on until B’s ready, but I drop the towel the instant I’m alone and grip my shaft in a tight fist.
God, it feels so good. There’s so much fucking precum I could start my own lube factory, and thank fuck there’s no one to overhear the whimper that falls from my lips as I give a slow pump and drag my thumb over the smooth, slick head.
I’ve never been this needy to be touched.
Never been this desperate for an orgasm.
This could be over in less than a minute, but I want it to be B’s voice talking me through this.
My phone buzzes on the little shelf just above the showerhead, and I let go of my dick to check it.
B: Call me.
I don’t hesitate to hit the button, and it barely rings once before he answers.
“Hello?” His voice is hushed and a little raspy, and the sound goes straight to my dick. “A?”
“I’m here,” I gasp, holding the phone with one hand and reaching for the shower knob with the other.
The sound of water on tile fills the quiet space, and my own shakey exhales expel from my chest.
“B,” I whine, unable to keep the need out of my voice. “I’m a horrible fucking person. He barely touched me, and I feel like I’m coming apart.”
I wish I could put the phone on speaker, so I could close my eyes and pretend he’s here for whatever it is he’s going to say, but I can’t risk anyone overhearing what I hope is going to happen.
“He affects you that much?” B’s voice is hesitant, whispered and slightly echoed like he’s hiding somewhere. He could be; I have no idea what I interrupted by asking for this.
“I think it’s us,” I say, breathing heavily through my nose. “Our thought experiments. Thinking about him when I’m with you. My body is confused. But I wanted to kiss him so goddamn bad. I wanted to kiss you.”
My free hand strays back down to my cock, turning an angry red and making me cry out as soon as my hand circles around it.
“B.”
“I’ve got you, A. Are you thinking about him?”
I close my fist over the tip and shut my eyes, head thumping back on the shower wall.
“Yes. I’m thinking about him. I’m thinking about us. B, I need to come so bad. Wish you were here to touch me.”
I hear his sharp intake of breath in my ear followed by a muffled pleasured noise.
