“And why do you need to know what it looks like?” he asks, his pretty hazel eyes narrowing. He has really long eyelashes. Sometimes when he closes them, they cast shadows on his cheeks. I want to brush my fingertips across them, run my thumbs down those defined cheekbones, then slide one into his mouth, and watch him suck on it.
“No reason.”
“There has to be a reason, Sem. You’re calling me at eleven at night to see my dick,” he says, and I shake my head before just hanging up on him. Because I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing. I’ve been wandering around in perpetual confusion for the past six months. I’m fucking exhausted.
My phone rings a second later, and I debatenotanswering it, but I do because I’m helpless when it comes to him. I press the green button and see Maggie’s pretty face appear on the screen.
Why the hell is he so cute? He’s pint-sized, petite, and feminine. The clothes he wears are slightly ridiculous. Those suspenders, silly bowties, and midriff shirts that show off too much of his flat, smooth stomach drive me crazy. And Jesus, his belly button is really small. I want to lick into it. And don’t get me started on how he paints his nails and sometimes wears tinted ChapStick to make those lips even redder. Makes me want to eat his mouth.
And there’s no hair on his body. Anywhere. What the fuck is up with that?
“Why did you hang up?” he asks.
I shrug and lie, “I had nothing else to say.”
“You’re a weird guy, you know that? You have to say goodbye. You can’t just hang up without warning. It’s rude.”
I examine his face, my mind capturing each expression he wears. Then suddenly, the phone drops, and I hear a rustling, and then Maggie’s face is back on the screen.
“Okay, I don’t know why you need to see this, or why on god’s green earth I’m even doing this, but I drank too much earlier, and I’m obviously not thinking clearly. You have one minute.”
And then he’s holding his phone over his dick, and I exhale shakily. Oh fuck. He’s…he’s….
I adjust myself and let my eyes take him in.
All of him.
“Why you hard?” I ask, my voice rough.
“None of your business,” he says, and I bite down on my lip, remembering how good he looked on my lap earlier. Like a fucking dream. No, not a dream. I couldn’t even dream that up.
“Have you seen enough?” he asks, and I shake my head before remembering that I need to actually speak.
“Nah, can you show me your…balls.”
Maggie laughs nervously before spreading his legs and angling the phone, so I can get a good look at them. He rolls them in his palm, offering them up for my consumption, and I blink several times, snapping mental frames of him. As soon as we hang up, I’ll be sketching this.
Memorializing it.
“Good?” he breathes, and I grunt out a strangled,yeah,and then Maggie’s face appears on the screen.
“Will I get to know what that was all about? Because, not to kink shame, but it was a little random.”
I lick my lips and shrug. “Maybe. One day.”
His eyes narrow. “You got secrets, big guy? What are they?”
“No secrets,” I lie and then reach down and squeeze my hard dick. Gotta keep it together. Just a few more minutes.
Maggie hums on the other end of the phone and then sighs. “Fine, well, I guess I’ll have to be satisfied with finding out eventually. I’ve got to go to bed now. Work tomorrow.”
He meets my gaze and smiles softly at me.
“See ya, Maggie,” I say, my chest aching.
“Night, Sem.”
The tender way he says my name does things to my insides. When we hang up, I set my phone down and cradle my head in my hands and breathe deeply for a few seconds before getting back to work.