“What kind of distraction did you have in mind?” I ask, my voice coming out husky as fuck. Across the screen, Jacob's thumb is brushing against his lower lip and it has my cock thickening.
“The kind where you tell me what you're looking at,” Jacob murmurs, his eyes dark and fixed on the camera. “The kind where you tell me what you want me to do while you look.”
“Mmm,” I groan, sitting up straighter to look him over. “I’m looking at the way the light catches the sweat on your skin. I’m thinking about how it would taste.”
A slow, triumphant smile spread across Jacob's face. "Is that right? Tell me more, Griff.”
The air in my room suddenly feels so fucking thick. My dick is so hard in my sweats that they are tented obscenely.
“I’m imagining running my hands down from your shoulders,” I begin, my voice gaining confidence as I paint the picture with words. “Following that trail of dark hair until my fingers find your waistband.”
On screen, Jacob's breath hitched, a sharp intake that was clearly audible through the speaker. The hand not holding the phone slowly glides along his pecks and stops at his nipples. He takes his time running the tip of his index finger over the tightened bud.
“And then?” he prompts, his own hand drifting down to rest just above the waistband of his low-slung sweatpants.
“Then I'd hook my thumbs there,” I continue, the fantasy taking on a life of its own. “I’d pull everything down, slow, just to watch your cock slide free for me.”
A soft groan escapes Jacob, and he lets his head fall back against the wall behind his bed, exposing the long line of his throat.
“God, Griff,” he breathes out. “Don't stop.”
I hum under my breath, “Slide your sweats down for me, baby.”
Jacob smirks at me and scrambles to remove his sweats. When he settles back, his phone tilts down and gives me a view of his hard cock. The head is red and swollen with pre-cum already dribbling out.
“I want to hear you,” I whisper. “I want to know what it sounds like when you touch yourself, thinking of me.”
Jacob's eyes snap open, dark and glittering with a challenge.
“You first,” he counters, his voice rough. “Tell me what you're doing right now.”
The demand has me sliding my hand down and beneath my sweats so I can grip myself.
“I wish it was your hand,” I groan, squeezing the head harder just to stay away from the edge.
Jacob's breath stuttered in response.
“My hand where?” he moans, his own fist moving over his cock slow and leisurely.
“Wrapped around my cock,” I growl out, eyes glued to his moving fist.
“Fuck, Griff,” Jacob rasps. "I would. I'd touch every part of you until you couldn't stand it.”
The image is so vivid my head spins.
“I wouldn’t stop at touching you,” I say, needing to get him going. “I would drag my lips over your chest and down to yourhips. I would kiss and suck and bite at your thighs until you trembled and begged for me.”
“Oh fuck, yes please,” Jacob moans.
“Then I would suck you down my fucking throat so hard that you bowed off the bed,” I continue. “You want that, baby?”
Jacob nods jerkily as he continues to stroke himself, faster than before. I can tell he is getting close and I know that the second he starts to come I will be right there with him.
“You know what I want? I want to slide a hand between your cheeks and slide a finger into that tight virgin hole. I want to finger fuck you while I suck the cum right out of you,” I groan. My fist is flying at the fucking thought of it.
“Oh God, yes. I’m going to come,” he admits, his voice breaking slightly.
"Show me.” The two words are a command, stripped of all pretense.
