Chapter 102
Lust spikes through Lee. Suddenly his sweatpants feel too tight across the crotch. Jesus.
Then the image disappears, replaced with:
JoTho: u like?
Maullory: how do i know that’s really u?
JoTho: o that’s me, alright. all 8 inches. u want it?
Maullory: prove it
He waits, thinking he’s called the guy’s bluff. A dick that perfect can only be an image grabbed off a porn site somewhere. But just as he thinks JoTho isn’t going to come through, a new attachment appears.
Lee opens it.
He sees the same legs, the same dick, only this time there’s a handheld phone in the picture, too. A hand holds it up so the screen faces Lee, and he can easily read today’s date and the current time on it. So the photo’s real—Lee thinks the phone’s shadow on the guy’s thighs is probably not a detail someone would think of to fake.
Adrenaline surges through him, making his hands tremble and his cock stiffen. Still, he plays coy.
Maullory: nah bro i’m an ass man myself
JoTho: one sec
Lee waits an indeterminable moment, not sure what to expect. Then a third picture comes in, and Lee opens it to see a man’s sweet buttocks, high and tight and dimpled. The cheeks are clenched so tightly, Lee can almost hear the muscles hum. Sweet Lord above.
JoTho: now u like?
Maullory: oh yeah
JoTho: so show me urs
The request isn’t unreasonable. Suddenly Lee’s no longer thinking of getting in a few rounds of Ownedtonight, or the possibility he’s being played. Grabbing the waistband of his sweats, he leans back and pulls them down. He always goes commando in his quarters after hours, nothing on but a pair of sweatpants he takes off before heading to bed. He likes to sleep in the nude. Now he tucks the sweats beneath his balls and his dick flicks up at attention, ready to rumble. Lee snaps a photo with his tablet, then sends it to JoTho.
Maullory: think u can handle this?
JoTho: fuck yeah man tell me when & where
The evening just got a lotmore interesting.
* * * *
Lee stays logged into the game server, but he sets his status to Busyand blocks all fight requests. He doesn’t know if JoTho has done the same, or if he’s chatting to a couple other people in addition to Lee, or joining in a fight here and there, or what. At first his replies seem delayed, but as the private chat gets hot and heavy, Lee’s pretty sure his attention is right where it should be.
On Lee.
Maullory: so what’s ur name?
JoTho: call me joe
Maullory: is that ur name?
JoTho: it’s my username. what’s urs?
Maullory: lee what’s ur squad?
Instead of replying, Joe sends another photo. Lee leans back in his chair, tablet on the desk, one lotioned hand stroking his dick and the other tapping out responses in hunt and peck fashion. He grips his cock tight as JoTho’s latest image opens, then pinches the sensitive tip when a close-up shot of a tightly puckered asshole fills his screen.
A thin foam of precum bubbles out of Lee’s slit. Jesus, he’s tight.
Still, just to make sure…
Maullory: how do I know that’s still you?
JoTho: look at the freckle in my crack, same as my other pic
Lee sees the perfectly round black dot at the tip of Joe’s tailbone, like a north star above his hole. One-handed, he taps through the open images to find the other one Joe sent; as each photo flickers open, Lee takes a moment to stroke his dick, his circled fist sliding up smoothly from the root to tweak the tip in one long motion. Then he strums down his length and squeezes again, hard, at the base. God, he’s hard. He should take the tablet into the bathroom and sit in the shower stall, make cleanup a little easier.
Then he finds the ass pic Joe sent earlier and thumbs the flared head of his cock as the image fills his tablet screen. Now he sees it, a tiny mole above the round globes of firm ass Joe presented to the camera.
JoTho: c it?
Maullory: yea ok
JoTho: do u like it?
Maullory: damn u have a fine ass
JoTho: tell me what u’d do 2 it
Lee hesitates. He isn’t one for dirty talk—at least, not outside the bedroom. But technically I’m inmy bedroom, he reasons. Dick in hand, even. I’ll be ready to shoot my load in another couple minutes. What’ll it hurt?
But whatever he types will be written down, easily saved and accessible later. In a chat room, at that—a private one, sure, but still. A few choice screenshots and he could be demoted all the way down to ensign if he isn’t careful.