Screens Apart
The Complete Collection
Charlie Novak
Copyright © Charlie Novak 2020
Cover by Natasha Snow
Editorial by Susie Selva
Beta Reading by K. Waite
All rights reserved. Charlie Novak asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Contents
Screens Apart
Dedication
Author’s Note
Part One: Batteries
Part Two: Lace
Part Three: Toys
Part Four: Ice Cream
Part Five: Love
Part Six: Mr. Smith
Part Seven: Mine
Bonus Art of Simon
Follow Charlie
Also By Charlie Novak
Charlie Novak
This one is for Kirk, who cheered me on every month.
Thank you x
Author’s Note
Simon and Taylor’s story was originally published as a six-part serial for my newsletter subscribers from September 2019-March 2020.
To fit with that, I’ve kept the original part structure, rather than attempting to divide it up into shorter chapters. I’ve also added a bonus epilogue that I hope you’ll enjoy, whether you’re familiar with Simon and Taylor or not.
Part One: Batteries
Simon
The prostate massager buried firmly in my ass gave a last half-hearted buzz and died as the batteries finally went flat, and the orgasm that had been barreling through my body receded so quickly I actually went lightheaded.
“Fuck,” I whined as a pathetic ribbon of cum dribbled from my cock.
An expertly ruined orgasm: a skill many Doms have spent their time trying to perfect, and I managed to unintentionally do it to myself.
“Fuck.” I sighed, flopping back onto my pillows and looking at the pile of toys next to me on the bed, each one as flat as a fucking pancake because apparently today was the day the batteries ran out in every single one of them. I seriously needed to get an ordinary dildo that wasn’t going to die on me halfway through my alone time. I could probably just jerk off without one, but I loved having something in my ass when I came.
I carefully removed the dead massager, throwing it on the pile before grabbing a tissue from the box on my bedside table and cleaning up the mess on my stomach. I needed a shower and to clean some of my toys before my roommates returned, and I really didn’t need them to see just how many vibrating massagers and dildos I owned.
It probably wouldn’t bother Taylor, since I got the feeling he probably had a collection that was just as big as mine, but Steve would bitch about me washing them in the sink that he and I shared.
That couldn’t really be helped though. I mean, they needed cleaning and neither of us had an en-suite bathroom. When the three of us had moved in here, Taylor had managed to nab the one room with its own tiny bathroom and that was because he was the only one who could fit in the shower.
I grabbed my phone off the duvet where I’d abandoned it earlier, the porn I’d been watching still paused on the screen. I closed the window, and thumbed through Twitter and Facebook idly, passing time until I could be bothered to move. When I’d finished scrolling, I pulled up Pornblr to check in on my blog and see if I had any new messages. Specifically, any new messages from my charismatic online crush, Mr. Smith. I was hoping he might be around to distract me, but since his last message had been about going into a meeting with his boss, I figured he was still busy.
“Come on,” I muttered to myself, finally giving in and hauling my ass off the mattress before throwing on an old pair of jogging bottoms and a t-shirt to make the quick walk to the bathroom. I knew it was stupid to get dressed for literally a minute, but I’d always been a little shy about my body, which was difficult because I’m hardly unnoticeable.
I’m six foot three and built like a tank. One of my previous boyfriends once described me as a solid wall of muscle, and even though it was meant as a compliment, it had made my heart sink.
I’ve always been a naturally big guy, just like everyone else in my family. But unlike them, I’d never been comfortable wandering around shirtless, and even on the hottest days I’d always worn a t-shirt and jeans. Unless I was in the privacy of my own room, then things were different.
Very different.
It had started a couple of years ago when I’d discovered Pornblr, an adult blogging site that was basically a very, very kinky, porn-filled version of Tumblr.
Ever since I’d realised I was gay and then discovered porn, I’d had a fascination with men in panties and lingerie. It just looked so pretty and soft, and I’d always fantasised about what it would feel like to slide something so delicate over my thighs. But I’d always thought it wouldn’t look right on me. Then I’d found a couple of Pornblr blogs that featured thick, muscular guys in lingerie, and I’d been hooked. They’d all looked amazing, and in a moment of courage I’d ordered my first few pairs of panties online after agonizing over the website’s size-guides.
As soon as I’d pulled them on, I’d known I’d found something I loved. The feel of the soft satin on my dick, the bold colour of the bright blue against my skin, and the way the panties clung to the curves of my ass made me feel more incredible than I had in my whole life.
One month and a lot of spending later, my blog, Thick Boy in Lace, was born. I wasn’t overly fond of the name if I was being honest, but it was one that was actually available. And I hadn’t been able to think of anything better.
I wasn’t quite sure why I’d created my blog, but I had. And since I could do it anonymously without anyone seeing my face, it was the perfect way to showcase my dirty little secret.
Maybe it was because I loved guys commenting about how sexy I was, how much they loved my ass, and how much they wanted to fuck me. It was everything I didn’t get from dating, and I loved it.
“Shit,” I muttered, checking the time on my phone. I grabbed the toys that needed washing and dug the little bottle of toy cleaner out of my bedside table drawer before heading to the bathroom. The flat was still quiet, which meant that Taylor and Steve weren’t back from work yet.
There were definitely benefits to starting work earlier in the morning, because it meant I always finished at least an hour earlier than either of my roommates.
Even so, I still washed everything quickly and hurried through a shower. The water pressure was horrible here so there was no point in taking a long shower anyway, but somehow Steve always managed to hog the bathroom for close to an hour every morning, even though he didn’t have to leave for work until at least an hour after I did. I assumed it was because he was obsessed with making sure his hair was perfect, but why he couldn’t just buy a mirror and do it in his room was beyond me.
I was just shoving all my toys back into their drawer and making a mental note to order some new batteries when I heard the familiar bang of the front door and Taylor calling out.
“Hey,” I called back, sticking my head around the door. “You okay?”
“Rough day,” Taylor said as his face appeared around the kitchen door, a brand-new and expensive looking bottle of whiskey in his outstretched hand. “Come drink with me. Please?”
“Fine, let me just get dressed.”
“Ooooh are you naked? Let me see!” Taylor laughed and wiggled his eyebrows. I just rolled my eyes and shut the door, pulling on my comfy clothes again, but I could feel my cheeks burning.
Ta
ylor was a natural flirt, always joking about how sexy he found my muscles and how strong I was. Once he’d even wolf-whistled at me when I’d been wearing a t-shirt that was a little too tight across my chest. It had felt like my whole body had blushed then, but at the same time, I’d also been a tiny bit pleased. Even though Taylor was my friend and my housemate, I couldn’t help harbouring a tiny crush on him.
Okay, forget tiny crush. Try gigantic.
It was difficult not to though. Taylor was sweet and funny with a ridiculously sharp sense of humour that I’d seen him use to cut men twice his size in half. And he was gorgeous too, all blond hair and blue eyes and a slim body I tried hard not to fantasise about because that was a road that led to nowhere but trouble.
“Are you coming? I have whiskey and a dire need to bitch and whine before ordering copious amounts of pizza.”
I grabbed my phone, shaking my head and chuckling as I checked my notifications just in case I had any new messages. Still nothing.
Sliding my phone into my pocket, I pulled the door open and made my way along the little corridor from my bedroom to our living room where Taylor was already curled up on the sofa. He hadn’t changed out of his work clothes—slim, dark trousers and a pale pink shirt that made him look like he’d just stepped out of a fashion editorial. He was ridiculously edible.
I could feel my dick chubbing up in my joggers and cursed myself for not putting underwear back on. I was pretty sure it was horribly obvious I’d gotten an erection just from looking at him. Fuck. This was what I got for not having a proper orgasm earlier.
There were two glasses of whiskey on ice on the coffee table, and he handed one to me as soon as I flopped onto the other end of the sofa, trying to arrange my legs so my dick wasn’t noticeable.
“I’m so glad you’re here to drink with me,” Taylor said, taking a sip from his glass. “It’ll make me feel less guilty when I inevitably drink far more than I should on a school night.”
Taylor worked for a small, rather select company that provided private tutors for either homeschooling or extra educational support. Most of his clients were ordinary, if rather wealthy, families who wanted to give their kids a leg up or a bit of extra help because they were struggling. Sometimes, the parents were members of the super-rich or celebrity elite, but most of the time they weren’t too bad either. Largely because Taylor dealt with a member of their staff instead.
But just occasionally, the parents were the living embodiment of hell spawn.
“That bad?” I shot him a wry smile before lifting the glass to my lips and feeling the familiar burn as the alcohol slipped down my throat.
“The absolute fucking worst! First, Ethan told me that I have to organise the next client-slash-tutor party, which by the way, is not in my fucking job description at all. Then I had a mother get super fucking pissy on the phone because the tutor she usually uses for her darling daughter has had to take a sabbatical because his mother has cancer, and apparently, that just isn’t a good enough reason for him to not be teaching her fucking child. Usually I’d just hand her over to Bethany to deal with, but she was out sick today because she ate some dodgy takeout and has honest to fucking god food poisoning.” Taylor took a deep breath, looking about ready to murder someone. “And that was all before lunch. I am so fucking done with today. I just want to get drunk, eat pizza, and watch porn until I pass out.”
“And it’s only Tuesday,” I said with a laugh, trying not to focus on the very last part of what Taylor had said. I didn’t need the mental images of him naked on his bed, fingers wrapped around his dick as he watched two guys fucking deep and hard on his laptop.
Nope. Not going there.
“How was your day?” Taylor asked, dragging my thoughts back from the dirty precipice they were teetering on.
“Fine.” I shrugged. “Nothing unusual, nothing exciting. Just orders and purchasing.”
I worked in one of the finance offices for Imperial College London and spent most of my day dealing with scientists and academics who wanted to order things for their various lab projects and research. It wasn’t the most exciting job in the world, but I liked working with numbers and enjoyed the regularity of it all.
“You’re so lucky.” Taylor rolled his eyes and gave me a smile that sent shivers down my spine. “I wish my days could be summed up so simply.”
“You know you could just find another job?”
Taylor laughed. “Fuck no, that would mean I’d have to deal with a whole new bunch of people, and I’ve only just gotten this office trained properly.”
“Then you can’t complain,” I said.
“Fine, fine.” Taylor sighed, draining the last of his glass. “But I’m still going to because it’s fun. I’m going to get another drink, then how about we order pizza?”
Taylor disappeared into the kitchen, taking both of our glasses. I could hear him rummaging through the freezer as he attempted to find more ice.
While I waited, I pulled my phone out of my pocket, my stomach doing a little flutter when I saw the new message notification on the Pornblr app.
mr. smith Sorry, I was stuck in a meeting and had a fucking awful day
mr. smith Did you do anything fun?
thick boy in lace I tried jerking off and playing with my toys but the batteries died
thick boy in lace So no fun for me =(
mr. smith Naughty boy! Fuck I love the idea of you playing with toys. Bet you look so good with a dildo buried in your ass
mr. smith I’d love to use some toys on you – tease you until you’re begging for it
mr. smith Then I’d fuck you so hard you’d feel it for days
Shit. I tried to stifle a groan because I wanted that so badly.
I didn’t even know who this man was but every time we talked like this, he managed to reduce me to a puddle within seconds.
We’d started chatting about six months ago when he’d messaged me on my blog to tell me how much he loved my pictures. Unlike most of the other guys who messaged me, he hadn’t started with a dick pic or some creepy message about how I should just get on my knees for him. He’d been friendly and funny, and we’d quickly become friends. Well, as much as we could be without sharing too much personal information.
But we hadn’t started sexting until a couple of months ago when he’d sent me a message about the latest photo I’d posted, asking if I knew what that did to him. I’d been horny and bored, so I’d flirted with him a little, telling him I had no idea and prompting him to tell me.
That had led to an intense and scorching series of messages and two fantastic orgasms.
Ever since then flirting and sexting had become part of our friendship. He’d even sent me the occasional pic, although it wasn’t ever much more than a shot of his hard cock. It wasn’t ever going to lead anywhere, I mean, I didn’t even know where he lived. But it was fun and made me feel so good about myself.
I’d never felt this wanted by anyone in my life.
mr. smith Would you like that?
thick boy in lace Fuck yes. Want that so badly
thick boy in lace Want to feel you inside me
I heard footsteps behind me and quickly locked my phone as Taylor appeared, holding two glasses.
“I was going to get a meat feast and some garlic bread, is that okay? Do you think we need two pizzas?”
“Um, one should be fine,” I said, trying to turn my attention back to pizza instead of my dick. Fuck, this was so wrong, I was sitting two feet away from my crush while sending sexy messages to my online fuck buddy. “I mean, it should be if you get a large.”
Taylor nodded, giving me a slightly raised eyebrow before pulling his phone out to start ordering. “A large it is then.”
thick boy in lace Ugh I’m sorry I’m getting dinner with a friend. Can we pick this up later?
mr. smith Of course. Have fun with your friend
mr. smith I’ll be waiting
I shoved my phone back into my pocket, drained
half my glass of whiskey, and tried to think of as many unsexy things as possible, starting with that serial killer documentary Steve and I had watched last week. The whiskey burned my throat, nearly making me choke. That, combined with remembering that one of the guys on this documentary had liked to peel people’s faces off, was enough to convince my overenthusiastic dick to calm down.
“Do you wanna watch some TV?” I asked, trying to change the subject.
“Sure,” Taylor said. “As long as it’s not any more of those horrible things you and Steve watch.” He shuddered, and I couldn’t help laughing.
“They’re interesting.”
“They’re disgusting and you know it. Why the fuck would you want to watch a program about someone who eats people’s faces? That’s not normal.”
“And watching Love Island is? They’re the most vapid people I’ve ever seen.”
“Eh.” Taylor shrugged. “The guys are hot, and they spend most of their time in very little. A man can dream.”
I snorted into my glass. “Okay, so no serial killers and no Love Island. There’s that new crime drama? Final Cause. The lead guy in that is pretty hot, I think. And I’m pretty sure he’s shirtless at one point.”
I wasn’t going to point out that I’d seen the gif of the lead detective emerging from a swimming pool, rivers of water dripping off his perfect abs, a million times on Pornblr in the past week.
“Sounds perfect,” Taylor said, giving me one of his soft, sweet smiles that made my insides melt.
We ended up watching three episodes in total, polishing off all the food and half the bottle of whiskey. The show was great, but it was made even better by Taylor’s running commentary and occasional snorts of derision.
“I don’t think it works like that,” he said, raising an eyebrow as the lead detective seduced one of the women he was supposed to be getting information from. “I think that’d get him fired.”
Screens Apart Page 1
