Kip: mornin’ sweetheart. thx 4 last nite. i wanted to keep sleeping w/ u, but had to get to work early
I smile down at the text Kip sent me after he left this morning. When I first woke, I was disappointed to find the bed empty and cold, but this text settled my nerves. I can’t help the way my heart flutters when Kip calls me baby or sweetheart. I’ll never admit it out loud, to anyone, but I live for it. It makes me feel precious. Like I’m not just some grumpy emo asshole who people only tolerate when they have to. I feel like Kip sees beyond the walls I erect to protect myself. Shit, my friends don’t even see the gooey side of me that I give to Kip. It’s only for him. Ugh, when did I become such a sap? Have I been body snatched?
Charlie: No problem. Have a good day at work :)
Look at that, I even used an emoji in a text. Me, using an emoji?! And, the emoji is even a smiley face. It’s like I’m a whole new person. Kip’s sunshine is rubbing off on me, in more ways than one. I’m thinking back to last night when we…ooof, is it getting hot in here? Images flash through my mind of Kip kissing me, sucking me, and then fucking marking me with his cum. Goddamnnnn, hottest night of my life, hands down.
My cock responds to the images floating through my head, throbbing in my boxer briefs. I groan, pushing my palm against it to try and relieve some pressure. I have to be at work in an hour…surely that’s enough time for a quick jerk? I mean, I can’t just leave it hard like this.
The shower spray hits me, relaxing my muscles, but doing nothing for my straining erection that points straight out from my body. Pumping soap into my palm, I wrap it around my cock and leisurely stroke. Fuuuccccckkkk…I wish Kip was here to help me with this. I imagine his abs flexing while he was straddling me, pumping his own thick cock through his fist. His hot cum jetting out all over my stomach, coating me. Mmmmmm.
Soon I’m gasping, my hand movements faltering as the orgasm rips through me like lightning. My cum splatters the wall tiles, dripping down to the floor. Fuck.
Too late, I think that I should’ve taken a dirty picture for Kip. Would he have liked that? Next time.
At lunch, I’m scrolling through my phone, but I can’t help but peak at my text thread with Kip every now and again to see if there’s a new message. I know that it would send a notification, but what if it didn’t? What if I missed it?
My last text to him sits on delivered, and unpleasantness swirls in my gut. It reminds me too much of when he disappeared on me earlier this week. He promised he wouldn’t ghost me again though. Kip is probably busy at work. He probably doesn’t even keep his phone on him while he’s with clients. I mean, where would he put it in his tight workout shorts?
And I know they’re tight, because of pictures he’s posted on Instagram. Tiny, tight little shorts that cling to his thick, muscular thighs androck-hard ass. Damnit, Charlie. Stop thinking about Kip’s little shorts! You cannot get a boner at work.
Charlie: I don’t want to sound needy or clingy but…do you want to hang out again tonight?
I’m not like this, I swear. I don’t chase people. I hate people. I let the people come to me if they want to be around me, which honestly, is a select few people. Mainly, my three friends. And I’m hoping Kip. He seemed sincere and into it last night. And he called me sweetheart in his text this morning. Shit, I’m not usually this insecure. I’m not saying I’m super confident, but usually I just don’t care what others think of me. Or at least, I don’t let other people know that I care. But not only do I care what Kip thinks about me, I also want him to be thinking about me all the time like I’m thinking about him.
I sigh, tucking my phone back in my pocket to head back to my desk since my lunch break is over. I need to focus on something besides Kip, otherwise I think I’ll go crazy waiting for him to text me back.
“Charlie, buddy! Look at you, grinning like a fool.” Jim, one of the accountants, peeks around my cubical. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you smile, buddy. Must be a good day, huh?”
The grin I was apparently wearing, still thinking about last night with Kip, falls off my face. Yeah, it was a good day, until you started talking to me Jimbo. Ugh, I hate small talk. I hate people making comments about me. And I hate working here. I need to get a remote job somewhere. I need to work from home, at a job where I never have to interact with the outside world.
“Yep.” I reply tersely.
“Anyway, bud, I was hoping to get your help on logging into my email. I think someone changed my password while I was away at lunch, because it worked just fine before I left but now it won’t let me in.”
Ten bucks says that Jim is typing in his password wrong. I reallywant to tell him that no one changed his password, seeing as I’m the only one who can reset it. And no, I don’t spend my time randomly changing people’s passwords, because that would just create more work for me and I’m not about that life.
I follow Jim over to his office, and have him type in his passwordextraslow. And what do you know, it immediately goes through and logs him into email.
“I swear that’s exactly what I put in the last two times I tried!” Jim chuckles and shrugs.
“Maybe it changed itself back while you were coming to get my help.” I deadpan.
“You’re probably right on that! Technology is wild, bud.”
It is wild, but not in the way Jimbo is thinking.
Throughout the rest of the afternoon, I try, and I mean really try, to concentrate on work. But, there’s nothing reallythaturgent that needs to be done, and my brain is too focused on thinking about Kip to worry about setting up this laptop for a new staff person starting next week.
My texts still sit on delivered. Kip had texted me a little before seven this morning, and it’s now four in the afternoon. Technically, if he works a typical work day, he should have gotten off work already.
I debate my options. Is it super clingy to call Pump Palace and ask for him?
Yes, it is. I did that before when he disappeared on me, and maybe because of that whole ‘ghosting’ experience, I’m on edge. But it hasn’t even really been that long since I heard from him.
I need to chill. I can totally be chill.
I can’t be chill. There is not a chill cell in my entire fucking body. And the non-chill cells are screaming at me to swing by Pump Palace after work to check on Kip. He’ll understand, right? I mean, he hurt me before by disappearing on me, and he’ll have to understand that I’m having some trust issues because of that.
