“Ugh, I can’t wait for our player to come out. I wish it wasn’t a big deal, but I know it will be. You’re right though. We don’t want to start speculation about the wrong person, especially when we’re about to have an actual announcement.”
“Don’t sound so surprised that I know what I’m talking about,” I tease.
“Dinner’s ready,” someone calls from upstairs, and everyone immediately stands, forgetting all about our conversation in favor of food. The Caldwells have a huge spread every year, and I am dying to get to dessert. Their chef always makes my very favorite fudge, and they serve it with chocolate ice cream. It’s one of my top five desserts of all time.
Dinner is amazing as always, but I’m distracted. I wonder what food would be Hudson’s favorite, if hischef made him something special for today, or if I should bring home any leftovers for him to try. I even catch my mind wandering to imagine a future Thanksgiving with Hudson in his new house, sitting around a table with a couple of kids saying what they’re thankful for, surrounded by tasteful yet fun fall decor.
I might even put myself at the table.
But hey, it’s my fantasy, so I can do what I want.
By the time everyone finishes eating and visiting, it’s been dark for hours. I drove all my friends, so as much as I would have loved to leave and catch Hudson before he’s asleep for the night, I’m not surprised that my place is dark when I finally get home.
It’s been a long day, and I’m a little more sluggish than usual as I put away the leftovers Beck’s grandparents insisted I bring home with me. I want to fall into bed and stay there for days. I typically have an elaborate nighttime skin-care routine, but there’s no way that’s happening tonight.
I shuffle into my room, eyes already half closed, manage to ditch the cashmere sweater I’d been wearing, and change into my silk sleep shorts when I hear it.
A moan.
A very loud moan. My pulse skyrockets and all my blood rushes south because that wasnota sound of pain.
I spin to look at my door, suddenly very awake as I confirm that I didn’t shut it all the way like I normally do before bed. Was Hudson’s door closed? Are both of our doors open while he’s making the most sexual noises I’ve ever heard in person?
I should close my door… right?
For a moment, I panic that I’ve interrupted an actual hookup, that he invited someone over, so I pull out my phone to quickly scan today’s footage from my video doorbell app. I don’t want to be a stalker, but if there’s a woman in his room, I’m immediately shutting the door and running into the bathroom where I canattempt to drown out the noises of my dream man with someone else.
There’s no one on the video though. The only motion, aside from me, is when Hudson went on a run this morning. He’s been home alone ever since. And he was alone last night when we were watching TV; it’s not like someone spent the night and is still here.
Which means he’s the only one in his room, on the other side of my wall, with both of our doors open and jerking off.
He probably has no idea he isn’t alone in the house. I thought he was already asleep, so I was quiet and didn’t turn the hall lights on.
“Ohhhh fuuuuck,” he clearly groans, and any thoughts of shutting the door are gone as my cock jerks in response to the sound.
He might hear the door if I close it, and then he’d realize I heard him.
It would be awkward, and I don’t need to risk putting either of us through that.
I do, however, desperately need to get off.
I’m not strong enough to ignore the free audio performance he’s providing. I ditch my shorts and grab my lube as quickly as I can. The sounds Hudson is making, combined with the taboo fact that I’m an unknown audience member for his show, that he doesn’t know I can hear what he’s doing as I settle onto my bed and wrap my hand around my cock, have me immediately hard as fucking stone.
My dick is already leaking, and I spread the precum around the head before I add lube. I picture Hudson’s full lips hanging open as another obnoxious moan escapes his throat. I image telling him to be quiet, that I have neighbors and he needs to learn to control his moans, as much as I fucking love them, or I’ll need to step in and shut him up withmy cock.
In my fantasy he eagerly agrees, wrapping those perfect lips around me and sucking me into his warm mouth as deep as he can. The idea of such a stereotypically masculine man, this professional athlete with his big muscles and a full beard, submitting so easily to my pleasure has me fighting a moan of my own. Unlike him, though, I actually need to remain quiet so he never finds out I’m jerking off to the sound of him doing the same thing on the other side of the wall.
He lets out a higher noise, almost a whimper, and I adjust my fantasy. I don’t want to be discouraging those sounds: I want to be the one causing them. Now he’s on his hands and knees with his ass out, begging me to fuck him. I imagine taking my time stretching him open, using my mouth and tongue to really show him how amazing I can make him feel as I get him ready for my cock.
I increase the pressure of my hand as I continue to stroke myself, picturing my dick slowly sinking into Hudson’s hole, so fucking tight as it practically sucks me into him as if every part of him wants us to be joined in this new way. My hips are thrusting without my permission, desperate for more, for the fantasy to be real, for the release I’m chasing, more of everything.
I must be completely delusional as pleasure consumes me, and my orgasm overwhelms my senses, because for a moment, as my eyes practically roll into the back of my head, I almost think the deep moan Hudson draws out sounds like my name.
If only.
19
HUDSON
