Decisions, decisions.
I land on the latter. Porn it is.
My fingers slip as I try to bring up the browser in my phone, and the phone rings.
Shit!
I fumble to end the call so I don’t wake Cam, still hazy from my night of drinking, and queue up some porn.
Letting out a relieved sigh, I settle on a video I haven’t watched in a while. It’s one of a guy stroking his cock and unleashing his load all over his girlfriend’s ass. I don’t care for faces, so you can’t see anything except his thick hand around his dick, and her jiggly pale ass.
I waste no time slipping out of my drawers and wrapping my hand around my cock.
The relief that floods me is instant.
“Fuck, that’s so much better,” I breathe.
One of the best things about my apartment is having no roommates.
My apartment wasn’t cheap, but my parents insisted I get a place by myself to avoid “distractions.”
By distractions, they fully meant parties and the usual debauchery that comes with being away from your family for the first time ever.
Like I couldn’t justleavemy apartment and find the sin wherever I wanted to. Like a strip club on a Friday night with my boys, for example.
I don’t have to worry about being quiet, about anyone judging me. Here, I can be as loud as I want. I can say whatever I want.
The sound of heavy breathing fills the air, probably from the video. I don’t usually focus on the sounds, but something about the breathing is inherently masculine, and it makes me feel better. Like it’s guiding me.
“So fucking close,” I hiss as I watch the woman in the video jiggle her ass, clapping her cheeks together as the man takes his aim. I pump myself, hard and fast, slathering my precum over my engorged shaft. The sounds of wet slapping echoes in the room as I turn over on my stomach, fucking my fist with a deep groan.
The sight, the sound, the alcohol, the overall frayed nerves, and I am coming within seconds.
I let out a strangled moan, relief flooding me. I collapse onto my bed within seconds, my cock slipping into a puddle of cum as exhaustion hits.
I barely hear the click as I let the darkness pull me under.
Chapter Four
Cameron
My body is still as a statue, each muscle tight and tense. The one between my legs is especially hard and aching over what I’m hearing.
Blinking a few times, the numbers on my cell keep moving up as the timer tells me how long I’ve been on the phone. Barely five minutes.
When I saw Austen’s name pop up, I answered immediately, feeling bad for how we left things earlier. No matter how frustrated I get with him, I always let it go because he’s more important than some stupid fight. But when I answered the phone, I didn’t hear Austen. What was there sounded almost like a TV or a radio, but the heavy breathing and moans tell me it wasprobably his phone. And then the wet-skin sounds, the deeper moans… It took way too long for my brain to put two and two together.
Austen accidentally called me. He mustn’t have realized he did. He put on porn. He jerked off.
I just listened to my best friend get off, listened to him jerk his dick until he came.
So fucking close.
Fuck, those words are going to play on repeat in my brain for years to come. I’d never heard sexier words come out of his mouth. And it wasn’t just the words; it was how he said them.
All desperate and gravelly. Wound up and needy. Fucking hell.
I should have hung up the phone, I shouldn’t have listened to him do that. But I just… couldn’t. I’d wondered about this for years. About whether or not Austen jerks off regularly, and I know that’s a weird thing to think about, but whatever.
