Mandy
Got kidnapped by some hot strangers, but I’m not complaining ;)
The winking face makes me roll my eyes, and I send her back an eye-rolling emoji. This is the glamorous part of the job. Players and clients love to wine and dine you if they think it’ll help land them a deal or even be considered for one, and I can’t say I haven’t enjoyed the same perks. Though as much fun as it is, I can’t lie and say it’s the best thing ever. It’s highly stressful, actually, walking that kind of fine line.
I set the phone down, shaking my head as another chime comes through. Of course, I text her and she takes hours to get back to me, but the second she texts me, if I don’t respond right away…
Except when I open my phone, I see the text isn’t from Mandy. It’s from Hudson.
Hudson
Sorry if I’m being weird.
The light from the phone reflects onto me, and I let out a sigh. It’s like all the stress I’ve been chewing on leaves my damn body.
My fingers hover over the text thread and a strange sense of melancholy hits me. I want to tell him it’s okay, that he’s not being weird. We’re different people now, clearly, and it’s normal to feel out of place when you see a bunch of people you haven’t seen in years. But something tells me it’s more than that. It’s not just an apology; it’s an admission. A confession of some sort, though I’m not quite sure to what. I stare at the text. I am sure he’s in bed, if not already asleep, and I should head to bed soon. But before I do, I need to take care of myself, like I’d promised.
Maybe I’ve spent so much time on display, worrying about the guys and my image and enjoying this respite of a vacation, that I haven’t really spent much time unwinding and beingmyself.Not unless you count the other night with Hudson or earlier tonight, when we were hanging out in the bookstore.
I sigh as I set the phone down and undress myself, the cool air kissing my skin. I suppose now is as good a time as ever, and once I come I’ll be too tired to fight sleep, so I unzip the front pocket of my suitcase to grab my travel-size lube. I toss it on the bed and make my way over, sliding off my briefs just before I settle on top of the covers. I stare at the ceiling, a mixture of guilt and sadness hitting me, as it always does when I do this.
Because the scenery might change, but the truth never does.
The truth that even in the moments I’ve been lucky enough to have someone else touch my dick, it never lasts. It always disappears, slipping through my fingers like sand in an hourglass. The momentary bliss of ecstasy is short-lived and has been for too long now.
This… this is the onlysureway I will be satisfied and I hate that truth. It makes me feel broken. Like something inside of me doesn’t work right anymore because I used to enjoy sex with other people, but nowadays, it feels like I’m trying to fill a void, and no matter how many women I sleep with—not that there have been a lot, but enough to know—the void just gets bigger.
Normally, I’d order room service, put on porn, and go to town, but I don’t know if it’s this weekend, or this weird melancholy bug that’s got me out of sorts, but I decide to focus on the moment itself. I grab my lube and work to slather it into my hands, taking slow breaths as I do so. In the absence of company, it helps me ground myself to the moment so I can focus on the buildup rather than the pay off. It’s the little things I try to pay attention to—the way the liquid warms in my hand, the beat of my heart. The first touch as I wrap my hand around my dick. The relief.
I settle into the soft pillows and let out a long breath. I close my eyes and start to slowly tug and pull my dick, letting my muscles relax. I don’t do this sort of thing often because the more noise, the more color, the more I can focus on something—or someone—else, the less I have to think about things. But tonight, I want to focus. I want to feel it.
I want toenjoyit, even if it is just a ploy to get me to go to sleep.
So that’s exactly what I do. I build my rhythm slowly but surely and focus on my breathing. In. Out. In. Out.
It doesn’t take long for my dick to get hard as my pace quickens. I let my mind wander. With my eyes closed, I can pretend the hand around my dick isn’tmine.That it belongs to someone else, someone who knows just how to touch me in all the right places, make me feel all the right things.
My thumb runs over my weeping slit, gathering the precum that’s collected there, and I can’t help but groan. I spread it along my head and thrust my hips upward. I squeeze my cock while stroking, rocking my hips until my heart starts to quicken its pace.
I keep my eyes closed, fucking my fist as I chase the pleasure that is on the horizon. My mind eases, knowing the relief that awaits.
My grip is harsh, and the closer I get, the rougher my movements. I chase and chase and chase my impending orgasm, grasping at it as it eludes me.
But I won’t let it get away. Not tonight, not now. I’ll take my pleasure because it’smine to take.
My mind wanders down unfamiliar roads as I try to focus on my pleasure and not this crazy whirlwind of a weekend. But the thought of cozy bookstores and warm bodies in my space and rainwater fills my psyche and my dick jumps a little, so I don’t fight it. I let myself imagine the idea of myself being in that bookstore again, beingtouchedbehind those stacks. My thumb falls over my slit again, and a fresh bout of precum spills to the top.
Okay, so this is new—a bookstore fetish? Public discovery? I don’t know, but whatever it is, it’s got me feeling pretty good. So I let my mind continue its new path—I imagine being pushed up against the shelves, books falling around me like Hudson’s spilled over onto the floor.
Hudson…
My mind latches onto him for some reason, and I tense, not wanting to lose my erection or my focus, but I can’t help it. I remember those books falling to the floor, those amber eyes sparkling with excitement as I grabbed his books, our fingers brushing against one another, the damn twitch of my cock…
I remember the brief look of panic, but also something else I can’t quite place. Remember being so close I could smell his damn cologne, feel the heat from his skin, take in the sharpness of his facial features. I think about the way his eyes glazed over, how he lookedupat me like I’d just granted his greatest wish, and…
My orgasm hits me out of nowhere, and my entire body seizes up. I barely have time to hold my hand over my cockhead, and instead, my eyes flash open as my dick erupts like a fucking volcano.
Ropes of white hot cum land on my chest as I groan. My dick throbs as I keep coming, and my eyelids feel heavy. I slowly stroke my dick, draining the remaining bits of cum.
