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David: you're playing dirty...

David: answer when I call

 

 

David flung open the stall door furthest from the sinks and propped his phone on the back of the toilet, the screen facing him so he could watch. His elbow slid the door latch shut with a satisfying click as his hands frantically worked to unzip his pants and pull out his throbbing cock. A few slow strokes eased his neediness as he tapped Patrick's name in his contacts, initiating a FaceTime call. 

David waited for his husband to answer as he stroked himself, the rhythm of his hand synced with the bass beat of the club. 

 

thrum bum 

Long thick fingers grazed his shaft...

thrum bum 

...thumb swiped across the tip...

thrum bum

...wetness slicked his cock as he imagined Patrick's strong hand giving him pleasure. 

 

The music seeped into his spine and the door supported his weight. He groaned, the sinful sound echoing on the cold tile walls. 

Patrick's voice crackled through the phone speaker, "Jesus christ, David... couldn't even wait until I answered the phone?"

"Hi, baby." David winked, watching Patrick's expressions morph from amused to aroused. He widened his stance and used the leverage to snap his hips forward into his tight fist. He needed the squeeze, an almost painful pressure but it wasn't going to be enough. He watched Patrick watching him through the phone and gave him a greatest hits tour of everything Patrick loved to see. Cheeks flushed and a fire rising in his belly, David's eyes locked with Patrick's as he fucked his hand at an unrelenting tempo, other hand massaging and tugging at his balls heavy between his taut thighs. The song had changed and now it was too quiet, he needed something more.

"Patrick, talk to me?" A reedy whine escaped David's lips. He could almost come on his own, but it would be so much better if Patrick would just-"

The simple plea spurred Patrick into speaking. "Fuck… so hot for me baby, tried to get me all worked up over text while I'm gone…"

Goddammit, he had.

"Did it backfire, David? Couldn't wait till you got home to stroke your fat cock? Got so hot thinking about touching me you had to hide in the bathroom and jerk off? Look at you, so gorgeous, baby… dripping wet just at the thought of me." 

He was so fucking smug. David hated it as much as it turned him on. 

David's lips tingled from holding back his needy whimpers as his husband's filthy narrative floated over him. He lost himself in the merciless rhythm of his right hand, his whole world narrowed to Patrick's gaze and his cock until his thighs seized and he came with Patrick's name falling from his lips.

His orgasm took him by surprise, come dripping over his fingers, spurting onto the closed toilet seat in front of him, and one fat splat landed ambitiously far away on his phone screen. 

The last bit of energy left him with a shiver and a hiss as David slumped against the side wall of the stall, still fully exposed, but still blessedly alone except for Patrick. The come that had landed on his phone was slowly dripping in-between Screen Patrick's wide eyes. A giggle escaped from David's throat that evolved into a full-blown snort of laughter as Patrick's face went from aroused and stunned to confused and amused. 

"You came on my face didn't you?"

David couldn't speak, but nodded emphatically with his eyes closed, a grin spreading from cheek to dimple. 

"Even when I'm not in the same city you still manage to hit my face without aiming. I am suitably impressed,  David." The smirk that crept across Patrick's face broadcasted his pride at such an inconsequential thing. 

David tucked himself back in his pants, grabbed the phone, and used several squares of toilet paper to wipe the offending splooge off his screen. This just made Patrick laugh even more, David eventually chiming in at the ridiculousness of the whole situation. 

"So…" David peered at his screen. 

"Welp…" Patrick offered unhelpfully, his grin never faltering. 

"I'm just going to…" David pointed his thumb over his shoulder before unlocking the stall door and heading towards the sinks. He held Patrick up so they both faced the mirror and the matching looks of satisfaction made the whole tawdry bathroom masturbation show worth it. 

"Your flight gets in at 1:15 pm tomorrow? Want me to meet you inside?"

"Only if you meet me with a sign. I expect nothing less than something bedazzled!"

"I will wait for you in the parking lot." David straightened his sweater while his husband laughed.

"Call me when you get home?" Patrick's voice went soft. David knew he was missed. "And this time," Patrick's face effortlessly slid from soft to predatory. "I'll let you watch me fuck my hotel pillow pretending it’s you."

Dammit. David could still be rocked to his core by Patrick's incongruously filthy mouth. He didn't even have a chance to reply, his mouth agape and devoid of a fitting enough retort. 

"Love you, baby." Patrick's lips pursed as he kissed his own screen in lieu of David's absent lips, and his face disappeared as the call ended. 

"Unbelievable." David's head rolled back and he grinned at the ceiling before stuffing his phone back in his pocket. Seconds later, with hands washed and hair readjusted, he swept through the restroom door with purpose, nearly taking out a cluster of kids barely old enough to be drinking in the first place. He pushed past without a second look, searching for Stevie so they could head out. He had a hot date with a very sexy business major as soon as he got home and he was not going to be late.