Page 98 of Game Changer
But he had other plans.
“Okay. I’m ready,” Kip said. “What’s next?”
“Open the nightstand drawer. There’s a box at the back.”
“All right. I see it. I’ve got it.”
“Open it.”
He waited a moment. Then Kip said, “Christ. Yes.”
Scott knew the item well. A large black dildo that, for about a year now, had been his most reliable romantic partner.
“I want you to fuck yourself with that. Pretend it’s me. God, I wish it was me.”
“Me too. For the record, though, this is really fucking hot.”
“Yeah.” He blew out a breath, his heart racing like he’d just run a mile.
“You must be in agony,” Kip said. “How are you doing there?”
“Hard as a fucking rock. But don’t worry about me. Get that in you. When it’s all the way in, you can touch your dick.”
“Shit. Okay.”
Scott leaned back in his desk chair, legs spread wide, and closed his eyes as he listened to Kip work the toy inside himself. Every gasp and moan was going straight to Scott’s dick, but he still wouldn’t touch himself.
“How are you doing?” he asked.
“Good. It’s...it’s big.”
“I know. But you can take it.”
“Yeah...yeah,” Kip panted.
“You got it in?”
“Almost. Almost. Fuck.”
Scott wished he had a glass of water or something. His mouth was bone-dry and he felt dizzy, probably from all the blood rushing directly to his cock. He gripped the edge of the table with his free hand, determined not to give in to the temptation to jerk off to Kip’s moans.
“Okay. It’s in. It’s... Fuck, it’s so good, Scott.”
“Pull it out and push it back in. Fuck yourself.”
“I am. I’m—Oh wow. It really hits that spot, huh? Fuck.”
Scott knew exactly how well it hitthat spot. He remembered using it on himself not that long ago, back when Kip had just been a fantasy—when he had just been the cute guy working at the smoothie shop and Scott had never in a million years thought he would actually have him in his arms and in his bed. He’d fucked himself with the toy, imagining it was Kip who was penetrating him. And, god, the thrill of having Kip use the same toy on himself now was intoxicating.
“You can touch yourself whenever you want now,” Scott said, “but tell me what you’re doing.”
“Thank Christ. Okay, I’m—Ah! Mm. Finally. Fuck. I’m just gripping it. Running my thumb over the slit and—Fuck. I’m gushing over here.”
Scott groaned. This was fucking torture. “Get a rhythm. Pretend I’m fucking you.”
“I’m gonna go off fast, Scott.”
“I know. That’s okay. Just let me hear you.”
