Hey don’t disappear
I didn’t mean it like that
I definitely want to take it further but it kills me I won’t get it in person
I sighed. It was true. He wouldn’t. The idea of finding the dark curlies of his beard in my teeth was enough to cool my jets permanently. It wasn’t fair to ask him to use his sex on a stick voice to get me off.
Sorry. I shouldn’t have just hung up but it really was a dick move on my part.
Your parts make my dick move
HA! Good one Graham.
I like it when you call me Graham. No one does.
What do they call you? Beast?
The Beard.
Ohhhhhhh, riiiiiighhttttttt… I can’t believe your nickname is even The Beard.
It was so easy to forget when he wasn’t in front of me. I started to type again but I saw the telltale three little dots pop up from his incoming text.
Would The Beast be a better fit?
My brow crinkled for a second, I wasn’t quite sure where he was going with this. But then a picture popped up.
A picture of a big, beautiful, and incredibly hard dick popped up.
“Holy shit,” I exclaimed to my empty apartment.
I couldn’t stop staring. This was the kind of dick you found on Tumblr and sent to all your girlfriends just to get their reactions. The emojis alone would be worth it. There would be the shocked faces, purple devils, and at least a million eggplant emojis, all peppered with hallelujah hands. He was thick and long, a combination almost no one had in real life. His tip was perfectly shaped, so perfectly, in fact, that I salivated over the idea of it pushing into me.
And it was manscaped. Perfectly so. Not a single one of his dark hairs was anywhere in the picture, making him seem all the bigger, all the more delicious.
Livy…???
Oh shit.
Right.
Hi.
I got a little distracted looking at this fucking phenomenal dick pic I just got.
You like? ;)
Like? I might be all sorts of wet right now… Beast is good. Beast is way better.
I flipped back to the full screen photo and cursed the heavens. Why on earth would they give a man with that voice, this dick, and an insanely magnetic pull over me, a mother fucking beard? I wanted to scream. And rub one out. Then scream again but this time the good kind.
With you, Beast it is.
Remember how we established there really can’t be a “with me”?
He started typing a few times just to abandon it then start again.
How about a game of pool?
I thought about it for a while. Part of me liked the idea—the snappy banter was delicious in person and over the phone—but then I’d be face to face with be the beard and the reality of the two of us. I couldn’t go. I couldn’t hang out with him. But I didn’t want to end our conversation on such a sour note.
Without thinking too hard about the ramifications of my actions, I whipped my shirt up, made a kissy face, and took a perfectly framed pic of my tits and lips.
We can’t. How about I leave you with this instead?
I sent the photo immediately afterward and then shut my phone off all together.
I’d left the phone off while I was at work, leaving me disconnected for a good part of the day but now that I was home with sunset coming I figured I couldn’t avoid reality any longer. Honestly, I wanted to peek at the giant beast luring on my camera roll too.
The second the small little apple faded from the screen and the picture of Mandy and I in t-rex costumes boxing each other took over, a few more messages popped up and blurred the screen.
Leave me?
What?
Livy, where are you?
I got harder when you sent that pic.
There was another picture of his dick and it did look harder. His balls looked tighter and there was the smallest bead of liquid pooled at the head of his cock. I wanted to lick it from top to bottom and back again. I’d suck his balls too just for the opportunity to be between those thighs.
I flipped to the next message.
Until I got off using that pic.
There was another picture of his slightly soft dick resting against the washboard of his stomach framed by an abstract halo of cum splattered this way and that. I wanted to lick his stomach clean.
God, all the times Mandy calls me a dirty whore are pretty accurate.
I started texting Graham back but stopped short. What did I say after that?
Thanks? Glad I could help? I’d suck your semen off your stomach if you shaved? Nothing seemed quite right.
While I was deciding, his three dots started back up on the text screen.
I’ve been waiting.
Looks like you’ve been rather busy if you ask me.
You like?
I’d lick.
That can be arranged.
Graham…
My phone started ringing a second later, unknown flashing across the screen.
“Hello?” I answered.
“I was hoping you’d scream something about my dick now that we’ve put that on the table.” Graham’s warm carnal voice was enough to knock my knees out from under me and flatten me to the bed.
“If your dick was on the table, I think I’d be well fed for the next few weeks or so.” I laid back against my mattress.
“Oh come on, a few months at least. I mean, did you see it or do I need to send you a few more pictures.”
“I could handle pictures of your perfect dick all day.” I tried to match his lust-laced voice.
“Imagine how I feel about your tits.”
“You like ‘em?” I bit my lips.
“Good Christ yes. They’re perfect plump little peaches with rosy little nipples. I can picture fucking them.” Whatever sexiness dripped off his words, mirrored the drips between my thighs.
“Yeah?” I settled into the comforter and my hand automatically drifted up to my chest.
“Shove them together,” he commanded, “right now.”
“I have to put you on speaker.” My voice was getting breathy.
“Good. I want your hands free.”
I clicked speaker on the phone and plopped it next to my chin. As soon as my hands were available, I shoved my tits together until they were flush against each other.
“I don’t know that you’d fit.”
“Oh, I’d fit,” he growled. “I’d lick every inch of you, get you all nice and wet. Then I’d straddle you and palm them both up together and shove in.”
“Yum.” I smiled widely. “The picture of your abs over top of my tits is downright drool worthy.”
“I’ll drool all over you.”
“Would you play with my nipples?” I asked, my voice rough and coy.
“So much.” The pleasure was obvious in his voice. “Will you touch yourself?”
“If my arm could reach around your tree trunk legs.” I smiled at the image.
“No. Now.”
I swallowed hard, but before I could stop my little bastard fingers, they travelled down my body and pressed beneath the waistband of my shorts. I sucked in a deep breath when my finger hit my clit.
“Jesus, Livy,” he groaned. “Tell me about it.” His voice got low and needy.
“My pussy?” I gasped as my fingers kept working.
“Yes.”
“It’s wet. Really wet. I think it gets like that just at the sound of your voice.”
He groaned across the line.
“Graham, are you jerking off?” I asked with a breathy whisper.
“Fuck…yes…I am.” His words were a little more choppy. “Back to business.”
“Ummm, okay, yeah.” I could barely refocus. I was picturing his big hands wrapped around that horse-like cock and, mixed with my own teasing touches, my mind was as close to vacant as possible.
“Your pussy, Livy,” he encouraged.
“Likes it when it’s flicked but likes it more when it g
ets tiny circles.” My hips bucked against the rhythm of my hands.
“I’ll remember that.” He laughed. “Is that what you’re doing now?”
“That and teasing little pokes. There’s this spot on the front entrance of me that’s so sensitive as I slide in and out.”
“That’s your G-spot, Livy. I know how to work a G-spot,” he snarled.
“No, my G-spot is higher.” My fingers slid in deeper looking for the exact spot.
“I wanna feel your G-spot. I wanna feel you come when I stroke it. I wanna feel you splash on me.” I could tell Graham was speaking through gritted teeth.
“I got news for you, I don’t squirt.”
“I could make you.” His voice snapped and it was this yummy lusty thing.
I could picture the body that went with that voice. The flexing muscles, the writhing body. I wanted to be the one fisting up and down on his beastly cock. I wanted that beastly cock inside me. More than that, I wanted to squirt all over him like some porn star. With that voice commanding me, that body working me over, I would do anything on the planet he asked. Trashy porn star sluts of the world would go slack jawed with shame at the things I was imagining.
The film reel I’d conjured up had me coming. Hard. My skin was slick with my wetness as I ground on my own hand. I couldn’t stop moaning in time with the orgasmic waves wracking my body. It barely took a split-second for Graham to start moaning too. That sound on speakerphone was toe-curling and renewed the orgasm that consumed my body.
“Oh my God,” I groaned a few times.
“Send me a pic.” He barely got the words out through the sounds of his trembling voice. “It’s the closest I’ll ever get to being inside you.” This time it was more of a desperate plea.
I clicked off the phone and shoved off my shorts. I propped myself up on my elbows and angled the camera down at my pussy. It glistened and was a little red and swollen. For a second I thought about cleaning up but then I thought better of it. He’d want to know what he did to me every bit as much as I liked knowing what I’d done to him. I snapped the pic and sent it.
Goodnight Graham.
“What have you done to Graham?” JJ asked when I walked into Mandy’s apartment for dinner a few days later.
“I haven’t done anything to Graham.” I rolled my eyes.
“Oh yeah you have. He’s going insane. I’m debating whether to commit him.”
Something inside me twinged and not in the usual spot, this something was about a foot higher, right underneath my left breast.
“We’ve just been texting.” I couldn’t help but crease my brow.
“They’re not texting, they’re sexting,” Mandy added as she brought over wine.
“What? No…That’s not…Mandy.” I scowled at her even though I turned a furious shade of red.
I mean, she was right. The phone sex we’d had was just the start of some really filthy moments. Calling, texting, pictures, all were becoming an addiction. I found myself running to the bathroom at work to snap something or rub something out. We’d talked about whether Graham’s hand would fit inside me, whether I’d let him in my back door, sex on a pool table, and I’d given him a virtual blow job he was still talking about.
“I saw your phone. You should delete that shit after you send it.”
I almost choked on the rosé.
“Besides, I thought you were decidedly anti-beard. He’s kind of the definition of a beard guy.” She put her hand on her hip and arched an eyebrow at me.
“It’s just over the phone. It’s not in person.” I let my eyes fall to my glass, hoping they wouldn’t see all the times I’d gotten myself off to the sound of Grahams voice or his return videos reflected there.
“Livy, first and foremost, you’re like a sister to me. I don’t want your tits or…or…or…” JJ stammered, flustered, until he gave up. “…out there. With the team no less. What if they pass those around? What if I see your…your…your…”
“They pass me around?” I screeched.
“They’re passing your pussy around the locker room all imagining their beards latched onto it,” Mandy added with a wicked laugh, finding herself hilarious, while JJ turned a darker shade of red.
“And second…” He raised his voice trying to wrangle us back to the matter at hand. “…Graham doesn’t play well when he’s frustrated. He gets in his head and starts screwing things up.”
“You think I’m frustrating for him?” I asked and I cocked my head to the side.
“Not getting the thing you want desperately? Having said thing dangled in front of you every day? Isn’t that the definition of frustration?”
“He wants me desperately?” I couldn’t help but smile.
“This isn’t a game, it’s his livelihood, Livy. If he loses focus, his stats drop. If his stats drop, the team doesn’t do well. If the team loses and it’s on his shoulders, he doesn’t get resigned.”
Each offense he listed was dropping like a boulder in my stomach.
“I didn’t know that. He never said anything…”
“Well why would he? He’s gotta be hoping to, ya know…” JJ made a circle with one hand and then stuck his finger in it from the other.
“Get it in?” Mandy spoke for him. “Jeez JJ, you’re a doctor. It’s okay to say sex.”
“I’m in denial either of you have sex thank you very much.” He was a brilliant shade of red.
“We both have lots of dirty, filthy, animal sex. Sometimes with the players you treat.” Mandy stuck her finger in her mouth and then angled to give her brother a wet willy, tormenting him so thoroughly they started roughhousing. When Mandy spilled her wine, they pulled apart, breathlessly laughing and the whole room was light again.
“Look, Livy, all I’m saying is that a man’s not going to admit his short comings to someone that he likes. Keep in mind the power you have over him and use it wisely, okay? Graham’s a good guy, and I don’t want to see him get hurt any more than I want to see you to get hurt when this is done.”
I gulped and nodded before slugging back the rest of my wine.
The energy of the stadium didn’t fight me this time, it ebbed and flowed through me, as Mandy and I both stood and clapped in front of our seats.
“So is it different this time around?” Mandy asked when the roared response to Graham died down.
“Not really.” I shrugged.
“Oh come on.” She was a little too excited. “You’ve seen his dick!”
I almost choked on the beer I was drinking as every head in the neighboring two rows turned toward me. A few of the guys smiled, one even reached out his hand and introduced himself. Mandy shoved him away.
“And this is the day I murder you. Hope JJ has triage equipment,” I said under my breath as I flashed a giant, forced smile.
“Well it’s true.” She slapped me on my back. “It’s gotta change something. At the very least, are you watching his shorts rather than his feet?”
“I fucking hate you,” I mumbled.
“Jesus Christ Livy, get a sense of humor!” She screamed so loud that JJ and a few of the players turned around from the sidelines.
Of course, Graham was one of them. He put his hands on his hips and his eyes danced when he looked up at me. He jerked his chin and nodded an unmistakable hello in my direction.
“That’s whose dick you’ve seen?” a random girl asked from beside us.
Four cookie cutter girls, with perfectly ringed curls all leaned out to look at me. They all wore team scarves covering barely there midriff baring shirts. They all shot me daggers too.
I collapsed into the seat behind me and my white summer dress puffed out around my knees. I leaned back and pinched the bridge of my nose.
“Oh God, he must be desperate,” one said.
“Or really small,” added another.
“There’s no reason he’d be with a girl who wore Doc Martins.”
I thought about taking one off and chucking it at one of them.
Or all of them.
“Livy, stand up and watch that man play soccer. These jealous HAGS,” she shouted, “couldn’t land a soccer player if they were the last pussy on earth.”
I dramatically dropped my hand but I stayed draped across the stadium seat. Graham was watching me, his eyes still twinkly. I lifted my pointer finger and signaled for him to turn around. He arched his eyebrows then did as I asked only to start stretching in the most inappropriate ways. I vividly pictured smacking his ass when he bent over to stretch his hamstrings.
But then he stood up and stroked his face. His salty, scraggly, yak face. I almost choked on my own tongue.
This was going to be a long afternoon.
Graham played like shit and the Timbers lost. It made the girls behind us all the more relentless. By the end of it, I had a nickname, beard gag. The unoriginal take on a ball gag really made my temper flare. The heat of the Portland summer hadn’t helped my mood either.
We went to the same bar after the game and I was playing pool while Mandy and JJ talked about some family reunion. I was slamming balls into pockets far more forcefully than necessary. Once or twice, they even jumped out of their pockets and onto the floor.
“You look like you could use someone to play with.” Graham’s voice still sent shivers up my spine.
“If you want.” I handed him a cue.
“Why are you so upset? I’m the one that needs his wounds licked.” He slipped closer to me.
“Don’t ask,” I grumbled as I picked up one of the balls that had gone rogue across the floor.
“I liked having you at the game.”
