The little bolt of happiness that shot through me when Fun’s message appeared in our thread was disconcerting.
We hadn’t messaged since our last session, and I’d figured he was over his little experiment with a dude. I’d been waiting for him to either unmatch me or block me. He hadn’t done either. And my relief was confusing.
I used Kinksters to avoid the hassle of dealing with people. My life was a clusterfuck of work and school, and I didn’t have the time or the motivation to go out and pick someone up.
Phone sex was impersonal, but an orgasm was an orgasm. And since getting people off with only my voice was a major kink of mine, it didn’t feel like anything was missing from my sex life. At least, it hadn’t until Fun.
The problem was I liked the guy. I enjoyed getting him off, but talking to him after had been almost as nice as the shared orgasms.
The smart thing would be to block him now before I got any more attached. Too bad I never did the smart thing.
I’d gone online a few times this last week looking for a new sexting partner, but none of the profiles I’d matched with had sparked even the slightest bit of interest. Instead, I’d compulsively checked to see if Fun had messaged me or was online, and scrolled through his pictures.
Shoving those thoughts aside, I opened our message thread, a smile on my lips, and settled back on my pillow.
FunTimes: hey
MrWrong: hey
MrWrong: it’s been a while
MrWrong: everything okay?
Why did I type that? I should have gone right into sexting. Engaging in conversation was going to make cutting ties with him harder.
I knew that but found it hard to care. The little dots appeared in the thread.
FunTimes: are you asking cause you want to know
FunTimes: or because you’re being polite
MrWrong: any time I ask a question is because I want to know the answer
The dots appeared, disappeared, and reappeared.
FunTimes: not really
MrWrong: you want to switch to voice?
The phone icon lit up, and I grabbed my headphones off my bedside table.
“Just getting my headphones connected,” I answered his call.
“Giving the old guy next door a break from all the screaming?”
The app distorted people’s voices, but he sounded different. Something was off.
“He’s had a break for a while,” I said. “I’m pretty sure he’s wondering if I’m still alive with all the silence.”
“Not bringing screamers home lately?”
His words were casual, but something in his tone made me pause.
“No. Not in a long time.”
“Oh.” He let out a heavy-sounding sigh.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
“I’m just… nothing. You didn’t sign up to listen to my problems.”
“Maybe not, but I did ask. You can talk to me. I know we’re strangers who listen to each other come, but sometimes that kind of anonymity is a good thing. If you need to talk, I’m here to listen.”
“It’s all stupid stuff. My best friend doesn’t have time for me anymore.”
“What do you mean?”
“Remember I told you about my roommates who’re fucking? One of them was my best friend.”
“Was?”
“Yeah.” He sighed. “I sound like such a baby when I say this, but I miss him. We used to do everything together, talk about everything. He was my person, you know? And now I barely see him.”
I waited. Would he keep talking?
He didn’t.
“That’s rough.”
“Yeah. I mean, I get it. He’s in love, and he’s happy. I’m happy for him. I really am, but it hurts. He lied to me for weeks when he and his boyfriend got together. I knew about them. I mean, come on, my room is under his. I heard them. The whole house did. But they walked around pretending they weren’t even friends, and every time I talked to B-my buddy, he lied.”
“Did he eventually tell you the truth?”
“Only after I told him I knew. I thought maybe that would make things go back to the way they were. That he’d stop avoiding me. Now he’s just busy.”
“It sounds like there’s something else there. Something beyond just missing him.”
“I… I don’t have a lot of friends.”
His voice cracked.
“I know a shit ton of people, but they’re not friends, you know? Like right now, I feel like I’m going crazy, but I don’t have anyone I can talk to about it now that my buddy is so busy. He used to be the person who talked me down when I was spiraling, who reined me in when my stupid brain would go rogue and make me do dumb shit. I know it’s not healthy, but he kept me in check. Now I don’t have that, and it’s like my brain won’t shut off.
“And I understand why he’s like that. He has this big, loving family, and they’re super close. He has his boyfriend. He gets his emotional needs met elsewhere. But I don’t have that.”
“Family?”
“No, not really.” A pause. “I have one relative who gives a shit about me, but that’s it. Everyone always gets sick of me. I thought things with my buddy would be different, but he’s moving on, and I’m alone again.”
“Who’s the relative who cares?” I asked gently.
“My grandmother. She took me in when my parents got sick of me.”
“What do you mean?”
“My parents are… not good people. They’re con artists.”
“Wow. I didn’t see that coming.”
He snorted. “Yeah. It’s not something I advertise for obvious reasons. My parents are social climbers. Mom is a cliché. The small-town girl who moved to the big city to be a model and make it big. She’s been trying to reclaim her glory days since they ended twenty years ago. Dad is a chameleon and always chasing an easy buck. He was a televangelist when I was little.”
“Seriously?”
“Yup.” He laughed sardonically. “He was one of those assholes who could convince his followers to send him their life savings because it was God’s Will.” The inflection in his voice told me exactly what he thought about that.
“And the really fucked-up part was it was all an act. He preached brimstone and fire and all that crap, but he didn’t believe any of it. It was all about the money.”
I kept quiet and let him talk it out. I had a feeling he’d been holding this in for a long-ass time and it was more a stream of consciousness than a conversation.
“But when I was thirteen, they fucked up. They got caught up in some bad investments. Then it got out that they’d gambled, drank, and snorted their way through the millions they’d managed to scam from their followers. They were arrested and charged with a bunch of shit, and I was sent to live with my grandma.”
Silence stretched.
“Where are your parents now?” I asked.
“Mom is… somewhere. Last I heard, she was trying to find a new sugar daddy to take care of her. Dad’s in prison.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Not your fault I have a shitty family.”
“No, but I’m still sorry you had to deal with that.”
“What about you? Perfect family with the picket fence and yearly family vacations?”
I snort-laughed. “Not even close.”
He kept quiet.
I didn’t talk to people about personal shit. But Fun had opened up and shared with me. The least I could do was reciprocate.
“My sob story isn’t anything new or interesting.” I toyed with the hem of my shirt. “Mom got pregnant with me young. My dad bailed, and my grandparents kicked her out. She raised me alone.”
“Was she a good mom?” he asked.
“Yeah. A great one.”
“Oh.” His defeated tone sent a rush of sympathy through me.
I might not have had an easy childhood, but my mother loved me, and I’d never once questioned how much. Fun might have had everything money could buy, but he hadn’t had the kind of emotional stability I had.
“We struggled.” Why was I going into more detail when he hadn’t asked? “We never had enough of anything. It got easier when I was older and could work to help her out, but she’s still struggling.” I bit my lip. “She deserved better. She’s smart, and she had dreams. But she gave up everything for me. To have me.”
I sighed. Now that I’d started, I wasn’t able to shut my stupid mouth up.
“She wanted more for me. She always encouraged me to be the best version of myself I could be. A lot of the guys I went to school with didn’t have that. They’re happy being stuck here, working dead-end jobs, and having families they can’t support. It’s what they’ve always known.”
“It sounds like you’re on your way to changing the cycle,” Fun said softly.
“I am. It’s not easy, but I’m determined and stubborn as fuck. I’m getting out of this town, and I’m going to give my mom the life she deserves.”
“You’re a good person, Wrong.”
“Don’t tell anyone,” I joked. “I have a rep as an asshole to maintain.”
He laughed. “Promise.”
Thud. Thud. Thud.
I looked up at the ceiling and chuckled.
“What?” he asked.
“My upstairs neighbors are going at it again.”
“Oh yeah?” His voice took on a sexy undertone. “You like listening to them?”
“Hell, yeah. They’re freaky, loud, and hot as fuck.”
He snorted. “Maybe they’ll invite you in as a third.”
“I wish. These guys aren’t that kind of couple. They’re so into each other it’s like the rest of the world fades away.”
“That sounds like my buddy and his guy.”
“Want to try something different today?”
“What did you have in mind?”
“I have an idea that might help you get out of your head for a while.”
“Yeah? I like the sound of that.”
“But for it to work, you’ll have to do what I say with no pushback.”
“I can do that. Or at least I’ll try.”
“How quiet do you have to be?”
“Pretty quiet. It’s a full house tonight.”
“I can work with that. You ready?”
“Ready.”
“I want you to get naked for me. When you are, get under the covers. I want you nice and warm and comfortable.”
“Okay.” The rustling of fabric filled the line. “They’re off.”
“Lie back and close your eyes.” I waited for a few counts to give him the chance to obey.
“Now I want you to focus on your breathing. Just on your breathing. Deep breaths in, and deep breaths out. Breathe for me, Fun. Let your body relax.” I listened as he obeyed. “Good. Now focus on my voice. Keep breathing for me, but put your focus on me. Can you do that?”
“Yes,” he whispered.
“Very good. Now picture me in your room. I’m standing next to your bed. I’m looking down at you. Can you see me? Can you see the desire in my eyes as I check you out?”
“I can.”
“Good. I’m kneeling next to the bed. My hand is on your stomach. I slide it down and cup your dick. You’re hard for me. Can you feel it?”
“Yes.”
“Put your hand on your dick. Just hold it and pretend it’s mine.”
His answering sigh sent a rush of possession through me.
“That’s it. You’re doing good,” I purred, smiling when he made a happy little sound. “I’m stroking you. You’re so hard for me. Do that, okay? Slowly stroke your dick for me.”
“Okay.”
“So good. Now I want you to picture me leaning over you. I’m sucking your dick into my mouth. You feel so good, taste so good. Can you feel it? Can you feel my mouth wrapped around your dick as I suck you?”
“Yes.” His breathing picked up.
“Pretend your hand is my mouth teasing you. I want you to enjoy this, but I’m not ready to let you come. Not yet. I’m using my tongue, licking your head, pressing it into your slit. Your hands are in my hair. You’re holding me tight. I like it. You try to move your hips, but I hold you down. It’s my show. Do you relax for me?”
“I do.”
“Good. Now spread your legs.”
He moaned, the sound low and needy.
“Fuck, you’re so hot, all spread out for me. Do you want my tongue? Do you want me to tease your hole while I get you ready for my dick?”
“Please,” he said softly, a tiny whine creeping into his tone.
Goddamn, he was responsive. “Use the tip of your finger to tease your hole for me, okay? Pretend it’s my tongue. I love rimming. I’d take my time with you. Let you get used to it. Then I’d go faster, harder. I’m circling your hole, dipping the tip of my tongue inside. Can you feel it? Can you feel me fucking you with my tongue?”
“Fuck, yeah, I feel it.” He groaned. “It’s so good.”
“It is. Keep teasing yourself. Stroke your dick while you play with your hole. But don’t come, okay? It’s not time yet.”
“Okay.” His voice was determined; he was still with me.
“I’m so hard, Fun. I want to fuck you so bad. Do you want that? You want me to fuck you?”
“So bad.”
“First I need to get you ready. I’m sliding one finger inside you. You’re so tight, so hot and perfect. Do you want two?”
“Yes.”
“I’m sliding in another, but I’m staying away from your spot. You’re so tight around me. Are you ready for three?”
“So ready.”
“Good. Now I’ve got three fingers inside you. You’re perfect, so fucking perfect as you take them. I’m so hard it hurts. I want nothing more than to slide my dick inside your perfect ass. Are you ready for that? You want me to fuck you?”
“Yes. Gimme your cock.”
I drew in a shaky breath and pressed the heel of my hand against my dick. I was already right there on the edge, and I hadn’t even touched myself. “Fuck. You’re so hot like this. I’m between your legs. You’re spreading them wide for me. I’m sliding into you as I stroke your dick. You’re looking up at me. You want me.”
“I want you,” he repeated, his tone full of wonder and awe. “I want you.”
“I’m all the way inside you now. You feel so good. I’m holding your wrists, pinning them to the bed.”
He gasped.
“You wrap your legs around my waist. I’ve got you, Fun. All you need to do is let go and let me take care of you. Can you do that? Can you let go and just feel while I fuck you?”
He moaned loudly. “Yes.”
“Good. I’m moving now. Fucking you nice and slow. You don’t need to think about anything other than how good I make you feel. I’m in charge. I decide when and if you can come.”
He whimpered.
“Are you close?”
“So close.” He panted.
“Good. I want you to keep stroking. Picture me on top of you, holding you down as I fuck you exactly how you need.”
“It feels so good,” he whispered through heavy breaths. “You feel so good.”
“Fuck,” I muttered, reaching into my sweats and grabbing my neglected cock. “I’m stroking with you. I’m pretending my hand is your ass. It feels so good.” I gritted my teeth and thrust up into my hand, my shaft already wet with precum. “You’re going to make me come so hard. Do you want it? Do you want me to fill you up?”
“Please.”
“Keep stroking. Tell me when you’re about to come.”
Moans and sighs and bitten-off words filled my ear as I stroked in earnest, not bothering to hold back.
“I’m close,” he whimpered. “So close.”
“Come for me,” I murmured. “Come on my cock and let me see it.”
A strangled cry came over the line, and I was done. My orgasm hit hard and fast. I cried out, bucking my hips up as I fucked my fist.
“Holy shit,” he mumbled dreamily.
“That was so hot.” I shook my head to clear it. “Are you still under the covers?”
“Yeah.” His answer was barely audible.
“That’s good. Now keep your eyes closed and think about how good it felt to let me take control. Enjoy the afterglow. I’m right here with you.”
I continued talking to him, telling him how good he was, how hard he’d made me come.
“I really liked that,” he said in a blissed-out tone. He was still deep in it.
“I did too.”
“I like you,” he whispered. “I didn’t want to, but I do.”
“I like you too.”
My throat tightened. I was getting attached. Fun might not even be aware of what he was saying, but I was in full control of my faculties. I liked him, and that was dangerous.
A moment later, he let out a happy-sounding sigh. Then silence.
“You with me?” I asked.
“I think so.”
“Did that help?” Had I been able to get him out of his head?
“Yeah.” He cleared his throat. “It worked.”
“Have you ever tried bondage?” Hopefully he had enough brainpower to have a conversation. I wasn’t ready to hang up yet.
“A few times.”
“Have you done it where you’re the one who’s tied up?”
“No.”
“Have you wanted to?”
A pause. “Yes.”
“What about sensory deprivation?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Like blindfolds, headphones, that kind of thing.”
“No. And before you ask, I’ve wanted to. Just never found someone I trusted enough to let them have that kind of control over me.”
I hummed.
“Why?”
“Just wondering.”
“I bet you’ve done it a lot.”
“Not a lot, but I have done some of that before.”
“Shit. One second.” A pause. “I have to go. Phone call.”
“Have a good night.”
“You too.”
The line went dead, and I looked down at my stomach. I needed to take a shower.
The thumping from upstairs was frantic now. Muffled voices filtered through the ceiling, and the bed rhythmically slammed into the wall. Smirking, I sat up. I wasn’t ashamed to admit I’d jerked off more than once while listening to Ash and Jules fuck each other’s brains out.
But after that orgasm with Fun, my dick was down for the count. Time to shower and get back to studying.
I swung my legs over the side of the bed and stood, then grabbed a clean pair of sweats out of my drawer and headed to the bathroom. I’d have time to think about how stupid my attachment to Fun was later. Right now, I had shit to do.
