Really good.
Like “fuck, why didn’t I have any lube?” kind of good.
Okay, there was lube in my bedroom but I wasn’t getting up to go and find it. Not when I was already so fucking close to coming. And I was in no mood to draw this out and turn it into something sensual, whatever that meant.
“S-Shit, that… mmm.” I groaned as I teased my hole, letting the tip of one finger slowly start to press inside. It burned a bit, but it wasn’t really painful.
Then again, maybe I had a fucked-up idea of pain since I played rugby union for a living, and I’d once popped my own knee back in after a bad tackle had dislocated it. If you wanted pain, that was a good place to start. Closely followed by ripping off sports tape. That shit fucking stung.
Or maybe… maybe fingering your arse wasn’t supposed to be painful? I mean, yeah, it would probably hurt if I shoved a fucking dildo up there un-lubed, without any kind of stuff beforehand, but I wasn’t going to do that. And maybe it wasn’t for everyone, but given what I’d heard guys in the changing room say, then it had to feel good for some people.
Perhaps I was one of them.
I wasn’t going to think about what that might mean.
Especially not when I was trying to get off.
Instead I dove head first into my fantasies of Ezra, imagining him watching me from the armchair with one leg crossed over the other and a drink in hand. One of those cocktails he’d been drinking. Fantasy Ezra had a phone setup too, clipped into the middle of a ring light with the remote in hand.
I told you I’d get you in front of a camera again, Fantasy Ezra said in that sexy, low voice of his.It suits you. Mmm, you’re such a pretty slut, aren’t you, Danny? I bet it gets you hard knowing I’ll be able to watch you get off whenever I want. Even when you’re not with me, you’re still being a good boy. Don’t look at me, slut. Look at the camera. That’s it… make yourself come for me. And if you do a good job, next time I’ll even help you.
I gasped, my chest heaving as my orgasm slammed into me, cum splattering across my skin and catching me completely by surprise. My fingertip was still just inside my arse, and my whole body felt like someone had set off fireworks in every single nerve ending.
Fantasy Ezra disappeared with a blink, leaving my head spinning while my body floated away without me.
Holy fucking shit.
What the hell had happened?
Did I have some sort of fucking praise kink?
No. That wasn’t it. At least, I didn’t think so?
No… it was more like… No, I didn’t know. I was sure there was a word for it; I just wasn’t sure what it was. Especially not right now when my brain seemed to have completely peaced out and left the building.
All I knew was I was completely out of my fucking depth.
And somehow, I wanted to go deeper.
Wiping my hand on my T-shirt, I reached into the pocket of my shorts, my fingers fumbling for my phone. It wasn’t there and for a second I panicked, because what if I’d left it somewhere, until I glanced down and saw it on the floor, the edge half under the sofa.
Huh, I hadn’t watched porn while I jerked off. I’d used my imagination instead. That was, well, it wasn’t new, but it was something I hadn’t done in a while. Usually, I was all for some visual or audio accompaniment, mostly to get me out of my own damn head, but apparently my brain had decided to supply its own material for once.
It had been really hot too.
And now I had to add that to the list of shit I was going to have to deal with at some point.
But not now.
Definitely not now.
Instead, I continued to make shit worse by opening Instagram and immediately searching for Ezra. Normally, I’d have gone for something like Snapchat, but Ezra was, like, I didn’t know, forty? I doubted he used Snap regularly. And I knew he didn’t have a personal TikTok because I’d heard him telling Leigh, who also did socials for the club, that he hated it. I didn’t have Facebook, because I wasn’t that old. So Instagram it was.
He was surprisingly difficult to find, but eventually I managed to track him down by combing through the likes on some of the Knights posts. He had a private profile and theusername was only part of his name, but the profile picture made it clear it was him.
I hit the request to follow button and wondered how long it would be before he accepted me.
It didn’t cross my mind that he’d say no, because why would he? I was hot and he’d smirked at me, so he could at least do me the courtesy of letting me look through his grid. And maybe answer a few questions. Like had he been flirting with me? Or was I wildly misinterpreting the situation? Because this was me, it could easily go either way.
