He waves me off. “Take whatever you want. I can make you a proper dinner if you’re hungry, though.”
Tempting, but after today’s insane events I kind of just want to be on my own for a bit. “Thanks, but I’ve got some soup in the fridge upstairs so I’m good.”
He nods. “Okay, well I’m making up some pasta for when Owen gets home from his shift, so if you’re hungry later just come down and grab some.”
“Great, thanks.”
I take my snack upstairs to my ‘suite,’ still marveling at how my brother’s house features what basically amounts to a studio apartment on its top floor.
I settle on the sofa and flick on the TV, scrolling through the streaming apps and looking for something easy and distracting to watch.
But my efforts to distract myself from the insane events of today don’t last very long. I feel my phone buzz in my pocket, and as soon as I see the text, everything comes screaming back.
Jazz Grimsay
I know what you did dirty boy
Naughty Damon. So hard up you couldn’t even wait to get home to jerk off
I know he doesn’t actually know with a hundred per cent certainty what I did in the bathroom, but he’s made an educated guess based on the state he left me in, and of course he’s guessed right.
Even so, I’m not about to give him the satisfaction.
Me
You don’t know shit
Jazz Grimsay
I know lots
I know you’re usually a pretty easy going guy. You’re comfortable in your own skin. Don’t get rattled easily. You probably get embarrassed from time to time—everyone does. But humiliation isn’t an emotion you’re all that familiar with
I know all it took was one look from me to rattle you to your bones.
And I know you liked it. You like being made to squirm. Being pushed out of your comfort zone. Feeling your whole body run hot. Those prickles and tingles you get…it’s like a drug. And you’ve been hooked from day one.
I knew it turned you on. And now you do too
So now we both know you’re a dirty slut who touches himself at work
We both know you’re a messy boy who gets cum all over his jeans when he rubs it out
And we both know you’re hard as stone right now
Fuck. I groan and toss my head back against the couch, using a cushion to cover my crotch as though hiding my raging boner from the zero other people in the room might make his words untrue.
The seemingly endless stream of texts appears to have stopped but I honestly have no idea what I’m supposed to say to all that.
Nothing.I should say absolutely nothing. I shouldnotbe engaging in this. Butfuck, how the hell does he know all this?
And why—why—is this happening to me?
It’s true that I don’t usually rattle easily, but that doesn’t explain why it’shimhaving this effect on me. Or why it’s fucking turning me on. Who the hell gets turned on by being shamed and humiliated and pushed miles beyond their comfort zone?
Jazz Grimsay
I’m assuming the lack of response is because your hands are busy flogging that monstrous dick of yours
