Daddy: What do you think?
BraveBoy: You’re naughty, Daddy.
He tacks on a little devil emoji, and I grin in relief.
Daddy: You mentioned that you’ve been struggling to have a satisfying solo workout. I thought this might help.
BraveBoy: I’ve never used one before, but I have this fantasy…
I groan, setting the bag of food down on my dining room table and palming my hardening cock through the soft fabric of my suit pants.
Daddy: I want to hear ALL about that. But first, did your dinner arrive?
A picture of open Styrofoam containers comes through in response. I frown, taking a second to unpack my own food and transfer it onto a plate, then I send a reply.
Daddy: This is a date. We may not be in the same place tonight, but we can make it nice by being civilized and putting our food on plates, at least.
I attach a picture of my own food to demonstrate. It takes a few minutes before a response comes through.
BraveBoy: You’re right. I’m sorry, Daddy.
A picture follows of the food now on a plate. I can see in the edge of the picture that he seems to have dressed up like I did, a pair of black slacks at the bottom of the frame.
Daddy: Show me what you wore for our first date.
An image comes through a minute later. He is dressed for our date in a pair of black slacks and a white button-up shirt. He looks petite, the kind of boy I could tuck under my arm, close to my chest, when we’re out at an event, or curl around tightly in bed at night. His neck is long and slim, begging for mouth-shaped bruises and maybe one day a collar? I know I’m getting ahead of myself.
I send through a picture as well so he can see we had the same idea of dressing up, even if we’re not in the same place. Although, I am more casual than I would be if we were out somewhere. I skipped the tie, and my top couple of buttons are open, tufts of auburn chest hair peeking out as well as the barest hint of a tattoo that I got during my wild, rebellious youth.
BraveBoy: You look better than dinner, Daddy.
Daddy: I was just thinking the same about you. If you were here, I’d plan to have you for dessert, spread out on the table and topped with whipped cream… Something to look forward to another time.
BraveBoy: Daddy…
I chuckle, hearing the groan even in the black and white words on the screen. I meant to tease him, but my cock is achingly hard at the image I just painted. Patience.
As much as I want to circle back to his comment about the fantasy, this is a date, and a little civilized conversation is called for while we eat. In perfect first date form, we end up discussing our childhoods. He tells me all about being raised by his grandfather, who recently passed, and I regale him with stories of my mild rebellions and the grief I gave my mother.
It’s easy to forget our entire date is taking place over text message, a relaxed smile on my lips the entire time. The biggest downside is how much I’m aching to reach out and touch him, find out if this connection we seem to have is real.
When our plates are clean, I get up to tidy up and then retire to my living room, my phone still close at hand. I settle myself on the couch, undoing a few more buttons on my shirt and running a hand over the half-hard bulge in the front of my pants, groaning at the twitch of my cock against my palm.
Daddy: So, about that fantasy you mentioned earlier…
It takes a few seconds for him to respond, and I wonder if I’m pushing too far, too fast. It’s one thing to flirt a bit; it’s another to explicitly discuss sex, especially in light of the present I sent for him.
BraveBoy: I’m blushing so hard right now.
I hum, imagining the pale skin on his chest pinked up with nervous arousal. If he were here with me right now, I’d pull him onto my lap and chase the heated path of his blush with my lips, playing with him until he’s so turned on he forgets his nerves and tells me exactly how I can make all of his fantasies come true.
BraveBoy: If we were in person, I’d never manage to say this aloud.
Daddy: If we were in person, I would make sure you forgot all about being anxious or embarrassed.
BraveBoy: How?
Daddy: I’d pull you onto my lap, and you’d feel how hard I already am for you. Then I’d kiss you and whisper sweet, dirty things into your ear until you’re horny and squirming, dying to tell me all your naughty fantasies and wet dreams.
BraveBoy: Ungh. I AM horny and squirming.
Groaning, I unbutton my pants and slide my hand inside to palm my hot, throbbing erection.
On impulse, I snap a picture, not of my cock, but of my tented pants, bulging with my hand inside, wrapped around my cock, my knuckles stretching the fabric and a messy tangle of fiery pubes peeking out.
I send the image to him, and the response is a long string of random letters and numbers, followed by a second, coherent text.
BraveBoy: Oh my god, I think you just broke my brain. That’s the hottest thing I’ve seen in my entire life. I wish I was kneeling between your legs right now, watching you touch yourself.
Daddy: Something to look forward to another time…
Daddy: Now, be a good boy and tell Daddy your fantasy about the toy I sent.
BraveBoy: In my fantasy, I have a vibrating plug like this in, nestled against my prostate, keeping me hard and horny while I’m at a party. But I lose the controller for it, and the man I have a crush on finds it. He follows me somewhere private and uses the controller to make me come over and over until I can’t take it anymore, forcing orgasm after orgasm, ringing me out until my cock is sensitive and my balls are throbbing and empty. Then, he scoops me up off the floor, where I’m breathless and drenched in my own cum, and kisses me all over, making me melt in his arms, all floaty and happy.
It’s all too easy to imagine the scenario he’s describing, the image of it sending desperate pulses through my cock. I tighten my grasp around my base, heat flaring in the pit of my stomach and dancing through me.
Daddy: Oh, you ARE a dirty boy.
BraveBoy: Sorry…
Daddy: It wasn’t a complaint, sweet boy.
I stroke my cock slowly for a minute, teasing myself while I contemplate whether what I’m about to say will be too much too fast. I suppose there’s only one way to find out.
Daddy: The one I sent you came with an app. All you would have to do is tell me the code inside the box, and I can sync my phone to it.
BraveBoy: Oh my god, Daddy. I’m so hard right now I’m literally dripping precum.
A few seconds later, a picture comes through to prove his point. His cock is a work of art, short and thick, the head deep red with a clear string of precum hanging off the tip. My mouth waters at the sight of it, another throbbing pulse ricocheting from my balls all the way to the tip of my cock.
Daddy: We can play, Brave Boy, but you’re going to need a safeword first.
Emerson
A low whine trembles out of my throat. A safeword? That makes this so much more real. I need a safeword because a Daddy wants to play with me. My Daddy? It’s starting to feel that way, but I don’t want to get ahead of myself.
My hand has been wrapped around my cock since we started dirty texting right after dinner. It was all I could do to put my used dishes in the sink and get back to the couch to shove my pants down and touch myself. I’ve been hard since I found the present on my doorstep when I got home from work. I’m not sure why I never thought to buy one for myself, considering the vivid fantasies I’ve had about using one, but it’s so much more special to know it came from him.
I take a moment to consider his request. This time we’re only texting, but I should choose a safeword I know I’ll be able to say reliably. A shiver of excitement runs through me at the thought of meeting him in person one day, playing with him in real life, and feeling his big, strong hands all over me.
BraveBoy: Unicorn
It takes longer than I would’ve expected for Daddy to respond. Did he change his mind a
bout playing?
Daddy: Unicorn it is.
I breathe a sigh of relief at his response.
Daddy: Now, why don’t you get your new toy out, and we can have some fun together.
I manage to pry my hand off my cock and grab the box to open it. I don’t know how Daddy knew, but it’s absolutely perfect: purple and sparkly, long enough that it will likely hit my prostate, and thin enough to be comfortable but still make me feel nice and full. My cock jerks and my balls tighten as I run my fingers along the smooth, rounded edge of the plug.
I was up late last night, shamelessly jerking off to Alton Brown on Iron Chef—don’t judge, we all have our guilty pleasures—so, luckily, I have a bottle of lube already handy here in the living room.
I text Daddy the code he needs to sync his app to my toy and then lube up my fingers to get myself ready. Something feels wrong about this though. Not wrong as in I don’t want to do it, but wrong as in it’s not enough. I want him to tell me what to do, to be in charge of every step, to be the one to make me come, even if it’s only my own hands on me this time. But I’m so trembly right now, there’s no way I’ll be able to avoid stuttering if I have to talk to him. I don’t want him to know…not yet. He thinks I’m so perfect right now; I’m not ready to ruin it by becoming someone he pities.
He did say he loves pleasing his boy, and right now, that’s me. Maybe I can just ask for what I want?
BraveBoy: I need something, Daddy.
Daddy: Tell me.
BraveBoy: I need your voice. I want to hear you telling me what to do, how to finger myself open and when to touch myself. But…I’m not ready to talk. Is that okay?
Daddy: Anything you need, I’ll give it to you. You want me to call and do all the talking?
BraveBoy: Yes.
The phone rings with a call almost immediately. I answer with my lube-free hand and make a small, needy noise so he knows I’m here.
“Hey there, my brave, sweet boy.” His voice is a deep, gravelly growl. Something about it is familiar, but I can’t put my finger on it exactly. It’s like I’ve heard it before, but maybe that was only in a dream. “Are you ready to play?”
“Mmhmm,” I hum, putting the phone on speaker and setting it down next to me on the couch so I can use both hands to reach between my legs, not touching anything fun yet since Daddy hasn’t told me to.
“I don’t want the plug to hurt your pretty little hole, so let’s get you nice and stretched first. I want you to slide two lubed fingers between your cheeks and tease your hole for me.”
I let out a breathy sound, propping my legs up on the coffee table and spreading them wide, and then gently teasing the rim of my hole with the slick tips of two fingers.
“I bet your hole is hot, isn’t it?” The question doesn’t seem to require an answer because he keeps talking without pause. “Your fingers probably fit so snug in there, making you shake and moan, desperate for something bigger to fill you.”
I press harder against my softening pucker, wanting to slip my fingers inside just like he’s describing, but he hasn’t told me to yet, so I continue to tease, petting and stroking myself until I’m soft and slick and so, so ready for more.
“Push those fingers inside, sweetheart. Open yourself up so Daddy can make you scream later.”
A shaky moan falls from my lips as I push both fingers inside easily, the burn of the stretch only lasting for a second before it’s not enough. My cock twitches against my belly, hard and still dripping precum, my balls tight and aching as I fuck myself slowly, spreading the lube inside and out. I can hear his panting breaths through the phone. I want to ask if he’s touching himself, but I’m too afraid to ruin the moment with my clumsy words.
I cant my hips, fucking myself with my fingers and making wild, desperate sounds until Daddy’s voice rumbles through the phone again.
“Stop.”
I still at his command, my fingers shoved deep inside, my last knuckle pressed hard against my rim.
“It sounds like it’s time for your plug. Go ahead and get it nice and slick, and then put just the tip inside yourself. No deeper than the tip, got it?”
“Mmhmm,” I hum again, reaching for the lube and the pretty plug to do as he says. Once it’s nice and slippery, I spread my legs wider and notch it against my relaxed, ready hole, easing just the tip inside. My inner muscles flutter and clench, desperate for more. If I were alone, I’d probably shove it all the way in at once, but I have to admit, the anticipation is making it a little more exciting. Daddies are so smart.
“Feels nice, doesn’t it?” he purrs again, not seeming to require an answer. “That first inch, that’s where most of your nerve endings are. Well, except for that sweet bundle deep inside, but we’ll get to that in due time. First…”
The toy vibrates to life, and I let out a startled sound that quickly turns into a moan, the sensation lighting up every one of the million nerve endings around my rim. My toes curl, and my balls squeeze tighter.
“Ungh,” I grunt as my cock spills another burst of precum onto my skin.
“Just another inch, nice and slow,” he instructs, and I push the toy a little deeper, careful not to let my horny greed get the best of me. I want to feel it all, every smooth, vibrating inch of it filling me. Even better, I wish it was his cock, hot and pulsing with arousal, filling me up.
I could’ve sworn the plug was only four or five inches long, but it seems to take an eternity to get it all the way inside with the way he insists I do it little by little. The vibrations are even more intense against the outside of my hole as the shape flares wider, stretching me as I ease it inside. My thighs tremble and sweat starts to bead on my skin. Every inch of my body feels electrified and sensitive, my cock so desperate for touch I can hardly keep myself from reaching for it.
“Oh, sweetheart, those desperate, raspy sounds you’re making are driving me out of my mind,” he rumbles. “I wish I could see how you look, trembling and horny, writhing for me.”
“Ungh,” I groan again, seating the plug fully into place and feeling the slow vibration against my prostate.
“Does it fit just right? Is it hitting that perfect bundle of nerves inside of you?” he asks, again not waiting for an answer. “Let’s find out.”
In the next breath, the vibrations intensify, going from slow and gentle to a faster pulse, bursts of sensation directly against my prostate, making my cock leak like a waterfall.
“Ahh,” I cry out, grabbing fistfuls of the couch cushions to keep from touching my cock, but unable to stop myself from humping up into the air.
“Sounds like it’s just right,” Daddy says, sounding satisfied. “There are so many different vibration patterns, we might just have to try them all out.”
The vibration changes again. This time each vibration lasts several seconds before stopping and then repeating. The short interval without vibration is almost more intense than the pulsing itself, my breath catching each time, my inner muscles clenching as I wait for the vibrations to start up again.
“How’s this one, sweet boy?” He tries another pattern, this one three quick pulses followed by a long one, and then nothing before starting over. My back arches involuntarily, noises I can’t even describe bursting out of my mouth as I shake from head to toe, thrashing and nearly sobbing. “I’ve never heard such beautiful sounds.” His voice sounds strained. Is he right on the edge too?
Heat starts to pool in the pit of my stomach, my balls so tight I know I’m going to come any second, even without touching my cock. “Daddy,” I grit out between clenched teeth.
“Come, naughty boy. Come for Daddy.”
I cry out in relief and ecstasy, his permission unleashing a wave that rushes through my body, sweeping me away as my inner muscles start to clench and throb around the toy, my cock giving another jerk against my belly before spilling hot, sticky ropes of my release all over my skin, shooting up to land on my chest, my throat, even my chin.
But he doesn’t
let up with the vibration. Even as my prostate and cock become sensitive, he increases the speed of the vibration, not giving me a second to rest. My muscles tense and relax, waves of aftershocks turning into a fresh crest of arousal, another orgasm hot on the heels of the first.
“Oh, oh, oh,” I pant.
“Give Daddy another one,” he growls, his voice tight and almost choked like he’s hanging on by a thin thread.
This time, my cum dribbles out, running down my over-sensitive cock and creating a cascade of sensations, the hot, wet feeling almost too much to bear. My blood is rushing so loudly in my ears I just barely hear an animalistic roar through the phone, the sound of Daddy getting off too. Somehow, that brings a fresh wave of rapture. Daddy’s pleasure is my pleasure, and it’s a fucking breathtaking thing.
“Such a good boy,” he groans. “Sweet, perfect boy.” He murmurs more nice things, but most of them get lost in the buzzing inside my ears.
As my second orgasm fades, the vibrations against my prostate are too much, bringing tears to my eyes and my safeword to my lips. But Daddy knows. Even miles and miles away, he knows it’s enough before I can even tell him.
The vibrations cease so suddenly it almost feels like I’m missing a step. I let out another shocked cry, my whole body sagging with relief.
Brave Boy (Perfect Boys Book 2) Page 6
