mr. smith Come for me
“Oh fuck. Fuck!” My orgasm crashed through me making stars burst behind my eyes as ropes of creamy cum shot onto the sheets beneath me.
I collapsed onto the mattress, pulling my hand from underneath me as I tried to catch my breath. I knew I was lying in the wet spot and that I’d probably need another shower at some point, but I was too worn out to care.
I smiled as I looked at the next message Mr. Smith had sent me, chuckling to myself as I typed out a response.
mr. smith Well?
mr. smith I don’t know about you but I’m a mess now
thick boy in lace That was really good ;)
thick boy in lace And yup, I’m lying in a wet patch
thick boy in lace I think I’m stuck to the sheets. Ick
We exchanged a few more messages before I finally said goodnight and rolled onto the drier side of the bed. I knew I should get up and shower again, but I figured I’d just wait until the morning and sneak in before Steve was awake.
Instead, I lost myself in thoughts of Taylor, replaying our conversations over and over in my mind until I drifted off to sleep.
The next day, after ordering a stupidly large package of batteries from Amazon, I tried to forget about the previous night.
Every time my brain tried to tempt me back to thoughts of Taylor by reminding me exactly what he’d said, I shut it down and forced myself to think about work. I spent the whole day focusing on orders and spreadsheets. By the time I finished, I almost had a headache from concentrating so hard. I still forced myself to go to the gym afterwards and spent nearly two hours lost in the rhythm of lifting weights.
Even though I wasn’t particularly fond of my body, or exercise, I found weightlifting calming. I could just focus on what I was doing instead of worrying about something else, and I almost liked the burn in my muscles that told me I’d done a good job.
I avoided my roommates when I got home, quickly making myself some pasta before spending the rest of the evening hiding in my room with Netflix and my blog. I told myself it was because I needed to edit some photos and queue a few up to post for the rest of the week, but even to me it sounded like a very forced lie.
By the day after, I’d thought I’d finally gotten a handle on my brain and my traitorous dick, but I didn’t realise how wrong I was until I got home from work.
The Amazon package with my batteries in it sat on the hall floor. I casually picked it up and slid it open as I headed for the kitchen, trying to work out what to make for dinner.
I’d ordered a pack of twenty-four Duracell batteries this time, forking out for something that I hoped would last a bit longer. The last ones I’d gotten had been from a pound shop because I’d figured that batteries were batteries and the brand really wouldn’t matter. But since they’d all lasted less than a month each, I knew this time I’d have to splash out for decent ones if I didn’t want to keep spending my very small amount of disposable income on fucking batteries.
I left them on the side as I rooted in the fridge, making a mental note to go shopping sooner rather than later. It wasn’t as if I didn’t have food to eat, I just didn’t have a lot of it left and it was starting to look like it might be pasta for dinner again.
I was so lost in my thoughts, I didn’t hear the door click open, and I didn’t realise I had company until I heard Taylor speaking behind me.
“That’s an awful lot of batteries,” he said, a note of amusement in his voice. I jumped, nearly banging my head on one of the fridge shelves as I spun around, my face flaming. “Got anything fun planned?” Taylor’s lips curled into a smirk that made a little shiver run down my spine.
Fuck! How could he reduce me to a speechless mess without even trying?
“I, um, I-I,” I stammered, no words coming out of my mouth. Shit, why couldn’t I just lie to him? Then again, what would I need twenty-four batteries for? It wasn’t as if I played a lot of video games and needed them for a controller.
“That’s a yes then,” Taylor said, stepping towards me. I froze. He picked up the pack and turned it over in his hands. “You must have some wonderful toys if you need this many,” he said. There was a dark glint in his eyes as he looked at me, and my dick twitched in my work trousers, precum leaking into my underwear.
My brain was suddenly supplying me with the filthiest fantasies it could dream up on the spot. All I could think about was Taylor spreading me out on his bed and using all my toys on me, making me come over and over until I was a spent, sated mess on the sheets.
Fuck, I wanted that so badly.
I wanted him so badly it hurt.
“You know, we could have a lot of fun together. And I know that I’ll be much better than your toys.” Taylor looked me up and down, raising one eyebrow as his gaze skimmed over my crotch. Apparently, it was very, very obvious how hard I was, and I wished the ground would open and swallow me up.
“Don’t be embarrassed,” Taylor said, his voice gentle, almost concerned. He stepped towards
