Page 33 of Spencer's Satisfaction
“Oh, sweetheart, I wish it was me. But, for now, we’re going to keep pretending, okay?”
“Mmm, okay.”
Having his smooth, perfect voice in my ears is somehow both so familiar and also brand new. I’m used to listening to him like this through his narration, but to have a direct line to the real thing, to be able to interact with him and be part of the scene is more exciting than I can describe.
“So, lie back on your pillows, close your eyes and imagine I’m there.”
I do as I’m told, finding it easier than expected to do just that. Maybe it’s having his voice so close, as though he is actually behind me, leaning down to whisper into my ear. With my eyes closed, I can imagine his warm, firm chest at my back and his breath on my neck. “Mmm,” I murmur again, already settling deeply into the fantasy.
“Good boy,” he says again, his voice turning slightly gravelly. “Now, take your hands and pretend they’re mine. Firstly, I trail my hands down over your chest slowly. I pause to tease your nipples through the fabric of your onesie.”
I gasp when I do as instructed, my hips lifting from the mattress in search of friction. I get a little from the inside of my diaper and I can feel myself begin to throb with need.
“You like that, don’t you? I can tell.” His breathing is a bit more labored, and I can hear rustling over the phone line. I get even more excited at the thought of him jerking off while he talks me into my orgasm. “I love your nipples, baby. They’re so sensitive.”
“Uh huh…”
He chuckles. “So then I pinch one.”
“Ohhh…”
Who knew my nipples were directly connected to my cock? Because hot damn; I’m pretty sure the jolt of pure pleasure I felt just now went straight from one to the other.
“That’s it, that’s my responsive angel,” Spencer pants into my ear. “I enjoyed that so much, I pinch the other one. A bit harder.”
“D-daddy,” I mewl as I comply, thrusting my hips up in earnest now. I’m still getting a little stimulation from the diaper, but nowhere near what my body craves.
“Very good…” he groans. “I could play with your gorgeous little nubs forever, Tony.” I let out a wordless complaint and his resulting chuckle is equal parts devious and fond. “I won’t though. Not tonight. No, tonight I don’t have the patience. That’s your fault, you know. You look so good dressed up in Little clothes. Does it feel good?”
“So…sogood,” I answer honestly.
Right now, even though I’m in the same outfit as earlier, I don’t feel cute or little. Instead, I’m definitely big, and I feel sexier and more powerful and in control of my sexual identity than I’ve ever felt before. It’s an intoxicating feeling, but I’m too horny to manage the words.
“God, that’s such a turn on, Tony. I’m so hard for you right now.”
That image makes me impossibly harder. “Sp-spencer, please. I need…”
“I’ll get you there. I promise.”
I nod and throw my head back. “You always do.” Am I talking about the few sexual encounters we’ve shared together, or the number of times I’ve jerked off to his narration? I honestly don’t know. I don’t think I care. He certainly doesn’t question me.
“Mmm,” he sounds a little distracted, and I can imagine his long fingers wrapped around his even longer cock, stroking himself while he talks to me. “I do love watching you come undone. Speaking of which: your dick is probably feeling neglected right now, isn’t it? You haven’t moved your hands without me telling the story, have you?”
My head thrashes from side to side against the pillows. “No. No, I’ve been good. Please, Daddy. Please…”
“Good boy,” this time it’s a purr and I’m almost certain I’m leaking pre-cum into the absorbent padding surrounding my cock. “So, as a reward, I drag my hands down your body some more. Can you guess what I find when I reach your crotch?”
“Ungh!” After having nothing touching it for so long, the pressure of my hands over the top of my onesie is a blissful relief to my cock.
“Answer me, Anthony.”
“M-my erection,” I stammer, holding my hands still, but pressing down and doing my best not to buck up, “p-please, Spencer. Daddy. Please. I need to come. Please.”
His breathing hitches. “You’re still wearing your onesie and your diaper, aren’t you?”
I nod.
He can’t see me.
