Page 10 of Screens Apart

We were fuck buddies—friends-with-benefits if you wanted to be polite about it—and nothing more. Whisking your fuck buddy away on an exotic luxury holiday so we could have sex under the stars was not something people did.

Even if there was a small voice in my head that traitorously suggested that it might be nice to havemore. After all, Simon was the sweetest person I’d ever met, and his self-deprecation and self-consciousness made me want to wrap him up and protect him from the world… and himself. I wanted to tell him over and over just how gorgeous and amazing he was until he believed me.

No.

I was not going there.

I was not a relationship person. Not now, not ever.

Whatever I was feeling for Simon was nothing more than a crush, and if I buried it for long enough, it would go away, and I could go back to my everyday life.

Okay, so that probably wasn’t going to happen. But I was going to live in denial for as long as physically and mentally possible, and then deal with the inevitable heartbreak in the only way I knew how—sarcasm, bad sex, and alcohol.

The key turned easily in the lock, and I saw Simon’s dark brogues neatly placed by the hall table, indicating he was home. I smiled to myself as I placed the whiskey in the kitchen, my brain already conjuring up a thousand dirty fantasies and suggestions for how the evening could go.

I really hoped Simon was up for sex tonight because I needed to let off some steam, and it had been too long since I’d had him underneath me.

“Hi, Simon,” I called, hoping that he’d emerge from wherever he was. I couldn’t hear the shower running, and he wasn’t in the living room, so I assumed he was in his room… or mine.

Shit, what if he was waiting for me? Face down and ass up on my bed, lubed and stretched, just waiting for me to slide inside him and fill him with cum. We might have been using condoms, but the fantasy was hot as fuck. The idea of my cum leaking from his hole and trickling down his thighs had my cock dribbling precum into my boxers and pressing uncomfortably against the confines of my trousers.

“Hey,” Simon called, his voice muffled from behind his bedroom door.

Damn, no fantasy for me. Maybe next time.

“Can I come in?” I asked, leaning against the door frame and looking at my phone. There was nothing interesting there, just a message from my friend Connor.

“Two minutes.” I smirked to myself, trying to imagine what Simon was up to. Maybe he’d been jerking off and playing with his toys while he waited. I knew he had toys, because that’s how this whole thing had started, but he hadn’t shown me any of them yet.

Not that we’d really needed them. We’d had plenty of fun without them.

I pulled open the Pornblr app while I waited, casually checking whether my favourite blogger had uploaded anything new and delicious for me.

I’d discovered Thick Boy in Lace about six months ago while I’d been perusing Pornblr. I’d been bored and horny when one of his pictures had popped up on my feed, reblogged by someone I followed. I’d then spent the next two hours staring at every single picture he’d posted while I jacked off until I was an oversensitive, sticky mess. In my defence though, the photos had been scorchingly hot. I’d always had a weakness for big guys, and another one for guys in lingerie, but a big guy in panties? That was my ultimate kryptonite, especially if said man had a submissive side.

I idly wondered if Simon would ever consider wearing panties for me. He had the same type of body as Thick Boy in Lace, and I knew he’d look fucking amazing with bright lace or soft satin stretched across his ass, his hard cock peeking out the top and soaking the front with precum. I just wasn’t sure how to go about suggesting it.

The door clicked open, and Simon’s face appeared, a slight flush on his cheeks. I slid my phone into my pocket, a smile curling across my lips.

“You’re, um, you’re home early,” he said, trying to act casual as I slowly scanned what I could see of his body.

“It’s Friday. I normally get to escape early,” I said. “Is there a reason why your t-shirt is on inside out?”

“Oh, shit, um, no?” Simon’s face went from slightly flushed to almost beetroot, and I couldn’t help but chuckle. He was so fucking adorable when he was flustered.

“What have you been doing, Simon?” I raised my eyebrow at him. “Have you been a naughty boy? Have you been playing with all your toys again?”

Simon whimpered, biting his lip in an attempt to keep quiet.

“We have the flat to ourselves this weekend,” I said, gently putting my hand on the door.

“We do?” Simon asked, stepping back and letting me in, closing the door behind us. “Why?”

“Olivia’s housemates are away so Steve is staying there,” I said, looking around Simon’s room. I hadn’t been in here much as we tended to hook up in my room, since it was farther away from Steve’s and my bed was both bigger and comfier according to Simon.

His bedroom was neat and tidy, the double bed carefully made with a few books piled on the floor next to it, but everything else seemed to be hidden in the large built in wardrobes that filled one wall. The bedsheets were suspiciously straight, which gave me the distinct impression that he’d tidied up quickly while I was waiting, especially considering his own rumpled appearance.

“Oh.” Simon looked down at me through his long, dark lashes. “That’ll be fun.”

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