[ of course it's nice of him to do, essential in a world of gigging and local shows to keep people really wanting to come back, and Eddie does whatever he can to help Jolene's succeed.
he's about to reply with something when that question comes in, then there's a request that feels a lot more like a command given the nature of what they've already talked about.
he takes a picture from above, dark t-shirt showing, legs slightly spread, jeans still fastened and zipped up, outline of his erection tenting predominantly through black denim. pretty fucking turned on are words that float through his mind but don't make it to text. ]
Like that?
[ or, should be be showing more? he thinks about sending another photo, but he waits to see what kind of reply he'll get from just this. ]
[ wash would agree with the terminology pretty fucking turned on. from where he is just idling in his apartment, he examines that picture in quiet appreciation -- noting his build, his manner of dress. scanning through his crystal-clear memories of jolene's, other times he may have passed by or of that one night ( because wouldn't it be a hell of a thing if this eddie was someone he's already fucked ). nothing immediately comes to mind, the build looks right maybe for some people he saw from afar. ]
You're not here to tease. Show me all of it.
No touching yourself until I let you.
[ hope you're good at typing one-handed, eddie, it's about to come in handy. ]
[ Eddie's in one of the back rooms at Jolene's, which would be his primary excuse for not just yanking his jeans off and jacking off to this whole exchange. he's found that a bit of denying himself immediate contact, more friction, has been a turn-on too, so that's really probably most of it. he has all the privacy he needs, back there doing tasks that are not pressing.
he exhales at that, the ordering tone from a voice he hasn't heard now coming more brilliantly clear, without sound but the punch behind those words sure is loud. the second text sends his head spinning for a second, what a concept. never had anyone order him around quite like this before.
he sets his phone down to unfasten his jeans, standing up to let them drop further down before sitting back in an leather office chair, taking another photo from the same angle, leaning back a bit, pulling his shirt up, so his shaft is on display. it shouldn't be so difficult already to not touch himself, to not grab onto his dick like he's showing it off, but his hand not holding the phone is in the frame, resting on top of his leg. he's stiff, average enough in size, wisps of dark hair over his groin. ]
So you wanna see me touch myself huh?
[ sometimes it's better to say nothing at all, Eddie. ]
Edited (don't mind my typo of leaving out a two letter word) 2023-07-03 05:11 (UTC)
the instruction is clear, a command, but of course there's no real way to enforce it. wash isn't there, isn't his dominant, has no way of knowing if eddie cheats and touches himself outside of those pictures and no way of really doing anything about it if eddie took a picture of him jerking off in clear defiance. it's a quiet test, not necessarily one to pass or fail but one to let wash continue to get a better sense of who he's dealing with, and when the photo comes back featuring a cock rock hard and on display, he knows that eddie is listening to him anyway. ]
Good boy.
[ he studies him for a moment, lets that message linger for a few seconds before he follows it up. ]
Not until I tell you to. Lets just have a chat.
[ yes, he's just going to keep talking to you. and you aren't going to touch yourself at all the whole time. ]
What're you going to do when you go looking for me? What kind of guy do you think you're looking for, when you ask around and try to find out which of your new fans might be the right guy to bend you over their lap and make you beg for it?
[ Eddie knows he could cheat, lie, that any brush of his fingers or quick strokes for some relief couldn’t possibly be known to this man. he’s a sucker for engrossing in a fantasy though, so he’s obeying that command, letting the way it’s making his cock throb just wash over him.
there is a near miss when he’s called a good boy, a curse aloud, wanting so very much to start jerking off hard, the praise shooting sparks to his dick.
chat huh? well fuck, the direction this ‘chat’ goes is no surprise, and his hips give a little roll in place, aching but not touching. not yet. ]
I’ll look at all the faces there, see how quick different pairs of eyes wanna lock onto mine. It’d be too obvious if you were eager to look at me though, so I’d go up to who looked interested but aloof, whoever I thought you were, ask you flat out if you were there looking to fuck. See what people say. It’s Duplicity though, everyone’s always looking for some tail.
Someone with a confidence just oozing from them. Hot. Taller than me probably. Maybe has a bourbon neat or something like that.
Or maybe it would be more evident than I’m thinking, maybe whoever you are wouldn’t be able to not look at my crotch when it’s obvious I’m getting hard on stage and I could see that when I’m looking around.
[ speaking of hard: he’s making it more difficult on himself, pre-cum teasing the head of his dick, and he stares down at himself through languidly blinking eyes. ]
[ eddie's nice and descriptive and detailed, and he hums with quiet amusement as he paints a picture of who he expects him to be. he's turned on, too, his cock hard in his jeans, but he's not compelled to do anything about it yet, content to read eddie's incoming messages knowing just how much he must be straining to touch himself. ]
Interesting plan.
[ he will neither confirm nor deny. ]
Are you just gonna ask if they want to fuck? Seems like you might get some false positives. You probably have to be a little more specific to figure out if it's me.
Take another picture, and tell me what you want to call me.
[ you a sir or a daddy or a master type, or none of the above? ]
[ of course though, not a single iota of detail revealed to glean more from. ]
Sure, not wrong about that.
Could you keep straight if I asked right to your face if you were planning on fucking me against a wall before the end of the night? Cause I could just try that.
[ turns out it turns him on even more to be asked for more pictures, to get to take and send them. he holds the camera out in front of himself this time, direct facing shot of his dick, legs spread a bit more to get his balls in view. there’s a small patch of slick wetness on this stomach from how aroused he’s gotten, body hair twisting and sticky in the splotch.
is he usually this obedient? not unless there’s a dominant man interested in fucking him, and it’s clear from how hard he is that he’s aching.
names like those, he hasn’t used them before, though he’s in the midst of a daddy kink awakening with someone else in town. so, he opts for the other choice he’s read in these texts, usual creativity a touch muted with his horniness. ]
I’d try out sir Not really one for exactly following or respecting authority though… You think it would work out, that being the case?
[ it's not that often he gets to be a part of someone really figuring out all of this for themselves for the first time, and there's something nice about that. nice to help, but also nice to leave a bit of a mark on someone that they'll remember, a raw, possessive thrill -- eddie mentions trying out sir, and he'll only be supportive of that experimentation. ]
We'll try it out. You let me know if you want to try something different.
You are being a good boy for me so far. Cock getting wet just from our little chat?
[ following authority doesn't seem to be a problem when it's a strange man over the network telling him not to touch himself and to send him pictures. wash looks over the photo in quiet appreciation, starting to thumb idly at the front of his own jeans.
he doesn't comment on whether or not he could keep straight ( he could, an unnervingly good liar whenever he puts his mind to it ). ]
So you find your man who you think looks and feels the bill and you're gonna go right up to him and ask were you planning on fucking me against the wall tonight, Sir? And what happens if they aren't me but they're feeling a little opportunistic, Eddie? I'm not gonna be the only one who takes an interest in fucking the cute boy with the guitar.
[ ‘sir’ has usually been reserved for men who demand it as leverage. teachers, shitty fathers, people with fragile egos. Eddie would never use the formality of his own accord. it’s not customary in Indiana as in the south, his 1966 birth year and 1986 current timeline having some remnants of the past where that respect had been demanded.
he knows his usage of the term isn’t the same, can feel it in his bloodstream making him throb. still, they’ll see. he likes to communicate as best he knows how, willing to share what’s on his mind as it pops up.
he’s confident that he doesn’t follow authority well, that at the front of his mind even if he’s contradicting it.
fuck this guy really is making this difficult, the whole not touching himself. especially when he’s alone, wants to just strip his clothes the rest of the way off and pump his cock to completion. ]
Yeah. Doing my best, but it’s getting hard to keep my hands from doing what they should be doing.
[ who knows what he expects to get from that. permission? probably. ]
I mean, a hookup sounds like the easiest answer to that. More fucking?
Or do you wanna be the only one to fuck me throughout this little game?
[ there we go. wash would clearly never be so presumptive to suggest being so blatantly possessive over someone he hasn't really met, whom he doesn't even know has any interest in that kind of thing yet . . . but if they bring it up themselves, whether or not they're gently prompted into it. who is he to say no. ]
What if I do want that?
[ just a simple question, echoed back, because he will make eddie say it. that he wants that, too. ]
You're doing good, Eddie. Hang on a little longer for me. Take another one, too. Show me how good you're doing.
[ he might personally be switching a little between harder demands and more gentle encouragement. it's a little to get the sense of how eddie responds to both, though that's limited when he can't actually see him, but also mostly because while he does want to push him ( wash always wants to push people ) eddie so far registers as someone who needs and wants a guiding hand as much as a controlling one. wash can provide that.
but it sure isn't permission to touch himself yet. ]
Guess I'd have to keep my questioning a little more subtle then, if I was willing to wait for just you. Which I am, in this case. Would probably make me want it even more from you.
[ seems like a big ask, but he's following how his dick reacts to any new or specific idea.
there are little groans, maybe a whine when his balls start feeling tighter, a slide of his back down the chair as if this is exhausting, as if he couldn't just stroke himself whenever he pleases.
he's praised for doing good, though, and shit if that doesn't keep him maintaining composure to resist, to stay determined for this incredibly kinky, sexy stranger. ]
Ok, since you're asking so nicely.
[ shooting pictures off when requested sure must be an indication that he'd do it no matter how he's asked, but the softness in that text is thrilling too. he'd said he wanted to be called good, after all, and really, he's finding that he wants more of that.
planning isn't his forte, but details when he cares about something are, so he considers what angle to take another photo from. he props the camera up on a desk, standing sideways, shirt pulled up, a profile shot of his cock and ass, and it really does take everything in his power not to grab onto himself as the timer snaps the photo for him. the background is just a regular office room: clearly someone's not doing their work, thank goodness none of it's time sensitive. he sends it off, settling back into the chair. ]
Am I still being good enough? Sir?
[ if the heat spreading out into his thighs, the tight way his cock twitches, are any indication, saying that title's probably gonna work out. ]
[ starting to get a little more creative with his photos now. wash appreciates it, takes a few moments to look at the photo -- and the environment he's in, clearly supposed to be doing work. so much for that. he studies him for a few moments, idly popping open the front of his jeans, easing his fingers in to let his fingers graze over his cock as he eyes eddie's profile, following the curve of his ass.
again he lets that linger for a while, giving eddie a bit of silence before he taps out a reply. ]
Such a good boy for me.
You can touch yourself now. Nice and slow. As if I'm right there watching you, so put on a show, and listen to me carefully.
[ he could ask for video, or a live feed, but he's not going to. he's also not going to specify that he wants eddie to ask him before he comes: he wants him to reach that conclusion himself, if he does. ]
I don't want you to keep the questioning subtle.
You're going to ask them as crudely and directly as you can. And when you're wrong, you're going to have to tell them that they can't fuck you. You'll tell them that you're saving your ass for me, but as apology for getting them worked up, you can let them fuck your mouth, as long a they take a picture of you on your knees with your tongue out all covered in come, and they make sure you swallow it all after, like a good boy.
You can't touch your cock when you're sucking them off, either. You'll send me that picture first. And then I'll let you.
[ a very purposeful shift from i want you to do this to you will do this, though it might get lost in everything else he's saying. also purposeful. ]
[ the delay is an eternity that causes Eddie to shift in place, desperate for friction, hard through those moments that feel thick with intent. he's antsy, feet shifting in place as he stares uselessly at his phone for a reply.
when it comes, his toes curl in, cock twitching and flooding with a whole new batch of demand as he gets the green light to finally touch himself. his lip gets a hard bite, features creasing at the idea of going slow, but he obeys that too, staring at the head of his cock to catch wetness there, dragging his palm along it in a squeeze and moan of relief before he grips his shaft. steady and slow, focus somehow honed in and hard on reading rather than going to town.
the directions are pretty damn thorough, detailed and driving his hand a bit quicker, licking his lips as the imagery splashes up in mind. he always could picture any fantasy, sexual or otherwise, pretty well. he's too heady to consider if that's a blessing or a curse in this moment, palming over the tip of his dick again as he does his best to type one-handed.
the command is hot, this guy's tone clearly building on itself, swinging and hitting further intrigue in Eddie. ]
crystal clear, each detail. fuck if I could do subtle anyway
so you're gonna watch to see if that I'm doing it? going off to a dark corner or the bathroom with guys who get all worked up and take me up on delivering that kind of apology?
should I keep my jeans on until you tell me to take em off, too?
[ he's contemplating if he should be more descriptive about how he's feeling in the moment too, how close he'd be to coming if he could just stroke harder, but he leaves the texts there, clutching onto the phone with one hand in anticipation of another reply. ]
[ absolutely going to make you make a mess all over your jeans.
wash has settled himself on one side of his couch, one hand thumbing over his device, the other slowly working over his cock freed from his jeans. easy, languid strokes, just watching as eddie's replies come in, fast and eager. so willing to surrender so much to a complete stranger. he really should be more careful. he's lucky that wash's ill intentions are bent towards things they both enjoy. but wash can't help but find that endearing and attractive all at one, someone in over their head but ready to say yes to just about anything, and isn't it nice to get ahold of a sweet boy like that.
he's all too happy to keep playing into eddie's imagination. ]
Maybe. [ it would be a breach of their little game, but wash briefly considers pretending even if eddie did find him. just to see him explain that his ass belongs to someone else for now, actually, no he doesn't know who it is, but as long as you help him take a picture of it when you come all over his tongue he can let you fuck his mouth instead. ] Bet you'd make a pretty sight on that dirty bathroom floor, wouldn't you? On your knees with your mouth wide open and ready for cock and come.
Does it feel good jacking off to a stranger's words? Bet it feels real good, knowing that you're listening to everything I want you to do and you don't even know who I am, what I look like, what I sound like. You don't know anything about me and you're still gonna let me order you to swallow from even more strange men, still gonna let me make sure your ass is just mine, and I bet you're getting close just from reading this and imagining what I might sound like when I've got my cock inside you spreading you open and I'm telling you how good you are for me.
Are you being good for me? [ working his hand over himself at the same easy pace, even slowing slightly as some pre leaks from his slit, thumbing over his head with a small, pleased sound and lingering in that for a little bit before he sends the next line. ] Prove it.
Take another picture and ask me pretty please, and I'll give you a reward.
[ Eddie's track record for exploration has been solidly full of pros, having met kind and considerate people, even those with darker edges having has his pleasure and wishes in mind. he's only been in the city for a bit over two months, and everything's been coming up Munson. his initial pause as to if stepping into this fray with a stranger has long since vanished, his young man brain fueled by curious gut instincts.
he smiles at the jeans suiting him when he's all hard and ready to go, oblivious to the idea of making a mess in or on them. ]
we'll both have to wait to see :) hopefully whoever ends up in my mouth takes a good picture so we have evidence one way or the other
[ and not picking up on the possible twist of a breach, but his mouth will be eager for whoever ends up being part of this game too, so might be an intoxicating rush to lie through it, see where it goes, have Eddie be genuinely shocked when he finally sees that fucking face.
well he's not subtle about following instructions, is he? no teasing or defiance, not in this moment, swell of arousal consistent from heeding orders. every word of that has its intended effect, causing Eddie to breath harder, hips jerking up into his hand that's too slow as he reads, brain and body at odds, his choice to deprive himself of more drawing a whine.
of course he's being good. holy fuck, he's really listening to this guy. a formless, voiceless mass, just someone who strings words and ideas, promises, together to get him stiff. ]
ok
[ it's harder to type, but it's also more difficult to form a ton of words to think of to even type. he has to fumble around to find something to prop the phone where he wants it to be, another hands-off photo with a timer set, a couple of photos sent that are taken clearly in succession. it's of more of him, head and shoulders, middle of his body as he's sitting in the chair, one hand splayed just beside the base of his dick, fingers brushed up against it, the other stroking slowly. and there's Eddie's head, looking down at what he's doing, dark eyes cast down so his thick lashes are on display, tousled curls sweeping downward, plain dark t-shirt pulled up to his armpits.
it takes him several more seconds to regather his phone, almost mesmerized by his own cock, but then he's typing effortfully with one hand again. ]
[ he knows exactly what it means when all he gets is a clipped "ok" in response, and that's nice. wash does wish he could see him now, desperate and writhing in that office chair, and thankfully he did ask for a picture and gets a pretty snapshot of it. a bit haphazard but that only makes it more appealing for how obviously unposed it is compared to what eddie was sending before, clearly having better things to do and think about now. he can see more of him, his shirt pulled up most of the way over his body, his face, those curls -- wash recognizes him almost instantly, yes he had seen him at the concert. from afar, never up close, maybe a few times in passing when he's visited jolene's before. good to put a face to a name, a name to a face.
his eyes roam down the stretch of his belly, to his cock, clearly painfully hard, both hands on himself and stroking. he can tell from the picture that he's trying to go slowly, trying, how sweet and obedient of him, and he can feel that heat stirring in him, his eyes lidded as he considers the picture, pumping his hand slowly over his own cock. imagining just what it'll be like to push him against a wall, close a hand over his mouth, whisper into his ear.
this silence lasts a while, too. slightly on purpose, but also just to let himself admire that picture for a little bit. he doesn't keep pictures for long, paranoid enough to delete most things off of his device when he can remember things anyway, but maybe this one will stay for a little bit, just to show eddie later that he has it.
when eddie finally gets another reply: it's an image. wash's cock, thick and hard, framed between muscled thighs, the strength of him still noticeable even through the denim. there's a noticeable glob of precome drooling from the head. his hands aren't in the fame, just a bit of an arm as he holds the device to take a picture, and it's far from enough to identify him by but enough to get a sense of his size and bulk, wearing a plain black shirt riding up just slightly with the way he's sitting, enough to show a sliver of skin and a glimpse of the hardened muscle of his abdomen, a faint tracing of scars. ]
[ yes, the luxury of having a face, a name, a voice. but Eddie isn't remotely peeved about not having any of those important details, eager to wait on getting them in due time.
he really is in deep, the only guess he'd had as to what this reward might be having been just getting to go faster, to be allowed to come. because he's assumed he's supposed to wait, deducing from the other orders, so he groans aloud when he receives the photo, not expecting it. there's been a shroud over so much already, his mind reels from the uptick in sensations over seeing that cock.
there aren't identifiable markers, but again, not really what he's after. Eddie isn't searching, hasn't been pressing to be sly or coy or a wiseass for a good amount of minutes now. he's caught up in the back and forth, the pulls and shoves mingling with gentle encouragement and praise.
the guy is clearly strong, muscular and fit, and he's imagining what it'll feel like to have that thick cock driving into him when he finally goes back to read the words of the text, panting out in continuing relief because fuck he's not far off from coming at all.
naturally, there's no reply for a couple of minutes, long enough to start jerking his cock precisely in the manner he'd wanted to from the beginning, steady and quick strokes, knowing how to perfectly drive himself to climax quickly. given the permission to do so, it's what he needs, has to have. there's a loud guttural cry when come spurts out, shooting up high onto his shirt, streaming on his belly, fingers coating in the milky threads.
heaven forbid Juliette is anywhere nearby and hears him come, it's so loud.
his head throws back against the back of the chair, sighing and panting out through his release, lips pressing together, slick and smooth as he swallows, breathing out an 'ooo' of a huff from the entire endeavour.
and because it just seems like the right call, the proper thing to do, he thinks ahead, picks his device back up to angle down from just under his chin, showing the mess he's made, come-covered fingers still wrapped around his still somewhat hard cock.
that's it, he doesn't have any words to text, it's just the photo. ]
[ wash is patient. slowly, languidly jerking at his own cock, an almost idle gesture, not as immediately pressed for release -- he'll take his time for himself for this, and he appreciates that eddie didn't even give him any acnowledgement. just immediately obeyed, immediatey went to work, likely so pent up he hadn't been able to help himself.
he hadn't given eddie any further instructions. partially just to let him focus, partially just to see what he'd do, if he'd type out some staggered words later. but the reply is instead exactly what he would've asked for, another photo, eddie just after having come all over himself, barely settled down, his fingers slick and wet with it, stained everywhere.
mm. wash squeezes his hand over himself, watching for a few moments, before answering. ]
[ don't mind him finding...anything to clean the mess he'd made up, the inside of his shirt inevitably bearing that responsibility. better than letting any of it dry on his skin or in his body hair, and now he's shirtless, just letting it drape over his leg, pants still at his ankles while he comes down from the high.
if this keeps up, there's gonna be a round two for him, and really, he should probably consider just going home for the day. upset stomach or something. making up a little white lie to get out of work. Juliette would just roll her eyes probably, but fuck if this conversation doesn't continue to stay hot. ]
:)
Came hard from seeing it, so I would say, yes, I did. Thank you.
[ does receiving the photo require gratitude? it kinda just flies out across the buttons, and he hits send. ]
Gonna be real fucking hard waiting for that cock to fuck me, though. You did that on purpose, didn't you?
[ the thank you isn't unexpected but the tone of it is -- back to his more usual voice, earnest, bold. none of pleading, no sirs. not something he'll punish him for ( at least not something he'll punish him for from across the network ), but that means that thank you just came from eddie, in well-meaning earnestness. cute.
he hums in quiet amusement. thinking, considering, as he keeps pumping his land slowly over his cock. ]
[ he knows a great dick when he sees one, okay? it'll stay tucked away on his device too (along with any other photo he's ever taken or been sent, this boy and his technology know-how), and you better believe he'll be looking at it over the course of the following days. there's gonna be more jerking off to this same single photo, no doubt. ]
ha ha. cute. So. What're YOU doing now?
[ look he's trying to picture it, and you made him thirsty, what else is he supposed to do? not ask in his usual way of existing now that he's bounced back a little? ]
[ there is part of him that does, in fact, considering forcing eddie not change his way of existing -- and give him absolutely no answers, no responses other than a curt dismissal and a promise about their game beginning as soon as the next day. and maybe in a different time, he might. but even if eddie is clearly eager to dive into this with his whole being, wash is still easing him in, more or less, and he doesn't mind allowing him a little more.
with certain limits. eddie doesn't get to expect answers about what sir is doing -- and anything more that wash gives him will come with their additional caveats. ]
I was minding my own business before a stranger accosted me on the network, Eddie.
[ so rude. ]
Was there anything else you wanted?
[ it's not completely cold, enough playfulness in it even just in text. but if eddie wants anything more, he's gonna have to do better than just ask what he's doing. ]
[ it all started out with a damn misfire, and Eddie doesn't have the mental capacity to dissect how they'd gotten to this point. there are plenty of things he wants, mostly he's already dived in head first, and the next step, for him, is to keep talking to this guy. there's their little game afoot of course, but he craves connection too and after he's came, it falls on his shoulders that he wants to keep chatting with the guy.
he's about to say something like that he guesses he'll just wait until he's accosted then, smiley face and all, but then that question comes. he considers it, deciding to be honest rather than joke around or tease too bluntly. or, that's what he goes for, anyhow. ]
Maybe I just like talking to you.
But if you like being alone with a hardon like that, go nuts Guess I'll just have to think about it on my own time
[ the attitude. unbeknownst to eddie but certainly working to his advantage, while wash does appreciate well-behaved good boys he has a thing for the ones with attitude. a bit of pushback. a bit of bite. ]
I do like talking to you.
[ a little playful, gently encouraging. he's still here for this. just pushing, testing. ]
Like the sight of my cock enough that you're gonna look at it more in your own time, Eddie? Touch yourself to it even more? Finger yourself pretending it's my dick fucking you open and whimpering because you know it's not as good as how it'll really feel?
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
[ but that does give him an idea. and he is about to just say it, but instead, after a few moments of consideration: ]
How turned on are you just talking to me about this, Eddie?
Show me.
[ it isn't a suggestion. ]
no subject
he's about to reply with something when that question comes in, then there's a request that feels a lot more like a command given the nature of what they've already talked about.
he takes a picture from above, dark t-shirt showing, legs slightly spread, jeans still fastened and zipped up, outline of his erection tenting predominantly through black denim. pretty fucking turned on are words that float through his mind but don't make it to text. ]
Like that?
[ or, should be be showing more? he thinks about sending another photo, but he waits to see what kind of reply he'll get from just this. ]
no subject
You're not here to tease. Show me all of it.
No touching yourself until I let you.
[ hope you're good at typing one-handed, eddie, it's about to come in handy. ]
no subject
he exhales at that, the ordering tone from a voice he hasn't heard now coming more brilliantly clear, without sound but the punch behind those words sure is loud. the second text sends his head spinning for a second, what a concept. never had anyone order him around quite like this before.
he sets his phone down to unfasten his jeans, standing up to let them drop further down before sitting back in an leather office chair, taking another photo from the same angle, leaning back a bit, pulling his shirt up, so his shaft is on display. it shouldn't be so difficult already to not touch himself, to not grab onto his dick like he's showing it off, but his hand not holding the phone is in the frame, resting on top of his leg. he's stiff, average enough in size, wisps of dark hair over his groin. ]
So you wanna see me touch myself huh?
[ sometimes it's better to say nothing at all, Eddie. ]
no subject
the instruction is clear, a command, but of course there's no real way to enforce it. wash isn't there, isn't his dominant, has no way of knowing if eddie cheats and touches himself outside of those pictures and no way of really doing anything about it if eddie took a picture of him jerking off in clear defiance. it's a quiet test, not necessarily one to pass or fail but one to let wash continue to get a better sense of who he's dealing with, and when the photo comes back featuring a cock rock hard and on display, he knows that eddie is listening to him anyway. ]
Good boy.
[ he studies him for a moment, lets that message linger for a few seconds before he follows it up. ]
Not until I tell you to. Lets just have a chat.
[ yes, he's just going to keep talking to you. and you aren't going to touch yourself at all the whole time. ]
What're you going to do when you go looking for me? What kind of guy do you think you're looking for, when you ask around and try to find out which of your new fans might be the right guy to bend you over their lap and make you beg for it?
no subject
there is a near miss when he’s called a good boy, a curse aloud, wanting so very much to start jerking off hard, the praise shooting sparks to his dick.
chat huh? well fuck, the direction this ‘chat’ goes is no surprise, and his hips give a little roll in place, aching but not touching. not yet. ]
I’ll look at all the faces there, see how quick different pairs of eyes wanna lock onto mine. It’d be too obvious if you were eager to look at me though, so I’d go up to who looked interested but aloof, whoever I thought you were, ask you flat out if you were there looking to fuck. See what people say. It’s Duplicity though, everyone’s always looking for some tail.
Someone with a confidence just oozing from them. Hot. Taller than me probably. Maybe has a bourbon neat or something like that.
Or maybe it would be more evident than I’m thinking, maybe whoever you are wouldn’t be able to not look at my crotch when it’s obvious I’m getting hard on stage and I could see that when I’m looking around.
[ speaking of hard: he’s making it more difficult on himself, pre-cum teasing the head of his dick, and he stares down at himself through languidly blinking eyes. ]
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Interesting plan.
[ he will neither confirm nor deny. ]
Are you just gonna ask if they want to fuck? Seems like you might get some false positives. You probably have to be a little more specific to figure out if it's me.
Take another picture, and tell me what you want to call me.
[ you a sir or a daddy or a master type, or none of the above? ]
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Sure, not wrong about that.
Could you keep straight if I asked right to your face if you were planning on fucking me against a wall before the end of the night? Cause I could just try that.
[ turns out it turns him on even more to be asked for more pictures, to get to take and send them. he holds the camera out in front of himself this time, direct facing shot of his dick, legs spread a bit more to get his balls in view. there’s a small patch of slick wetness on this stomach from how aroused he’s gotten, body hair twisting and sticky in the splotch.
is he usually this obedient? not unless there’s a dominant man interested in fucking him, and it’s clear from how hard he is that he’s aching.
names like those, he hasn’t used them before, though he’s in the midst of a daddy kink awakening with someone else in town. so, he opts for the other choice he’s read in these texts, usual creativity a touch muted with his horniness. ]
I’d try out sir
Not really one for exactly following or respecting authority though…
You think it would work out, that being the case?
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We'll try it out. You let me know if you want to try something different.
You are being a good boy for me so far. Cock getting wet just from our little chat?
[ following authority doesn't seem to be a problem when it's a strange man over the network telling him not to touch himself and to send him pictures. wash looks over the photo in quiet appreciation, starting to thumb idly at the front of his own jeans.
he doesn't comment on whether or not he could keep straight ( he could, an unnervingly good liar whenever he puts his mind to it ). ]
So you find your man who you think looks and feels the bill and you're gonna go right up to him and ask were you planning on fucking me against the wall tonight, Sir? And what happens if they aren't me but they're feeling a little opportunistic, Eddie? I'm not gonna be the only one who takes an interest in fucking the cute boy with the guitar.
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[ ‘sir’ has usually been reserved for men who demand it as leverage. teachers, shitty fathers, people with fragile egos. Eddie would never use the formality of his own accord. it’s not customary in Indiana as in the south, his 1966 birth year and 1986 current timeline having some remnants of the past where that respect had been demanded.
he knows his usage of the term isn’t the same, can feel it in his bloodstream making him throb. still, they’ll see. he likes to communicate as best he knows how, willing to share what’s on his mind as it pops up.
he’s confident that he doesn’t follow authority well, that at the front of his mind even if he’s contradicting it.
fuck this guy really is making this difficult, the whole not touching himself. especially when he’s alone, wants to just strip his clothes the rest of the way off and pump his cock to completion. ]
Yeah. Doing my best, but it’s getting hard to keep my hands from doing what they should be doing.
[ who knows what he expects to get from that. permission? probably. ]
I mean, a hookup sounds like the easiest answer to that. More fucking?
Or do you wanna be the only one to fuck me throughout this little game?
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What if I do want that?
[ just a simple question, echoed back, because he will make eddie say it. that he wants that, too. ]
You're doing good, Eddie. Hang on a little longer for me. Take another one, too. Show me how good you're doing.
[ he might personally be switching a little between harder demands and more gentle encouragement. it's a little to get the sense of how eddie responds to both, though that's limited when he can't actually see him, but also mostly because while he does want to push him ( wash always wants to push people ) eddie so far registers as someone who needs and wants a guiding hand as much as a controlling one. wash can provide that.
but it sure isn't permission to touch himself yet. ]
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Which I am, in this case.
Would probably make me want it even more from you.
[ seems like a big ask, but he's following how his dick reacts to any new or specific idea.
there are little groans, maybe a whine when his balls start feeling tighter, a slide of his back down the chair as if this is exhausting, as if he couldn't just stroke himself whenever he pleases.
he's praised for doing good, though, and shit if that doesn't keep him maintaining composure to resist, to stay determined for this incredibly kinky, sexy stranger. ]
Ok, since you're asking so nicely.
[ shooting pictures off when requested sure must be an indication that he'd do it no matter how he's asked, but the softness in that text is thrilling too. he'd said he wanted to be called good, after all, and really, he's finding that he wants more of that.
planning isn't his forte, but details when he cares about something are, so he considers what angle to take another photo from. he props the camera up on a desk, standing sideways, shirt pulled up, a profile shot of his cock and ass, and it really does take everything in his power not to grab onto himself as the timer snaps the photo for him. the background is just a regular office room: clearly someone's not doing their work, thank goodness none of it's time sensitive. he sends it off, settling back into the chair. ]
Am I still being good enough? Sir?
[ if the heat spreading out into his thighs, the tight way his cock twitches, are any indication, saying that title's probably gonna work out. ]
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again he lets that linger for a while, giving eddie a bit of silence before he taps out a reply. ]
Such a good boy for me.
You can touch yourself now. Nice and slow. As if I'm right there watching you, so put on a show, and listen to me carefully.
[ he could ask for video, or a live feed, but he's not going to. he's also not going to specify that he wants eddie to ask him before he comes: he wants him to reach that conclusion himself, if he does. ]
I don't want you to keep the questioning subtle.
You're going to ask them as crudely and directly as you can. And when you're wrong, you're going to have to tell them that they can't fuck you. You'll tell them that you're saving your ass for me, but as apology for getting them worked up, you can let them fuck your mouth, as long a they take a picture of you on your knees with your tongue out all covered in come, and they make sure you swallow it all after, like a good boy.
You can't touch your cock when you're sucking them off, either. You'll send me that picture first. And then I'll let you.
[ a very purposeful shift from i want you to do this to you will do this, though it might get lost in everything else he's saying. also purposeful. ]
Is that clear?
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when it comes, his toes curl in, cock twitching and flooding with a whole new batch of demand as he gets the green light to finally touch himself. his lip gets a hard bite, features creasing at the idea of going slow, but he obeys that too, staring at the head of his cock to catch wetness there, dragging his palm along it in a squeeze and moan of relief before he grips his shaft. steady and slow, focus somehow honed in and hard on reading rather than going to town.
the directions are pretty damn thorough, detailed and driving his hand a bit quicker, licking his lips as the imagery splashes up in mind. he always could picture any fantasy, sexual or otherwise, pretty well. he's too heady to consider if that's a blessing or a curse in this moment, palming over the tip of his dick again as he does his best to type one-handed.
the command is hot, this guy's tone clearly building on itself, swinging and hitting further intrigue in Eddie. ]
crystal clear, each detail. fuck if I could do subtle anyway
so you're gonna watch to see if that I'm doing it? going off to a dark corner or the bathroom with guys who get all worked up and take me up on delivering that kind of apology?
should I keep my jeans on until you tell me to take em off, too?
[ he's contemplating if he should be more descriptive about how he's feeling in the moment too, how close he'd be to coming if he could just stroke harder, but he leaves the texts there, clutching onto the phone with one hand in anticipation of another reply. ]
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[ absolutely going to make you make a mess all over your jeans.
wash has settled himself on one side of his couch, one hand thumbing over his device, the other slowly working over his cock freed from his jeans. easy, languid strokes, just watching as eddie's replies come in, fast and eager. so willing to surrender so much to a complete stranger. he really should be more careful. he's lucky that wash's ill intentions are bent towards things they both enjoy. but wash can't help but find that endearing and attractive all at one, someone in over their head but ready to say yes to just about anything, and isn't it nice to get ahold of a sweet boy like that.
he's all too happy to keep playing into eddie's imagination. ]
Maybe. [ it would be a breach of their little game, but wash briefly considers pretending even if eddie did find him. just to see him explain that his ass belongs to someone else for now, actually, no he doesn't know who it is, but as long as you help him take a picture of it when you come all over his tongue he can let you fuck his mouth instead. ] Bet you'd make a pretty sight on that dirty bathroom floor, wouldn't you? On your knees with your mouth wide open and ready for cock and come.
Does it feel good jacking off to a stranger's words? Bet it feels real good, knowing that you're listening to everything I want you to do and you don't even know who I am, what I look like, what I sound like. You don't know anything about me and you're still gonna let me order you to swallow from even more strange men, still gonna let me make sure your ass is just mine, and I bet you're getting close just from reading this and imagining what I might sound like when I've got my cock inside you spreading you open and I'm telling you how good you are for me.
Are you being good for me? [ working his hand over himself at the same easy pace, even slowing slightly as some pre leaks from his slit, thumbing over his head with a small, pleased sound and lingering in that for a little bit before he sends the next line. ] Prove it.
Take another picture and ask me pretty please, and I'll give you a reward.
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he smiles at the jeans suiting him when he's all hard and ready to go, oblivious to the idea of making a mess in or on them. ]
we'll both have to wait to see :)
hopefully whoever ends up in my mouth takes a good picture so we have evidence one way or the other
[ and not picking up on the possible twist of a breach, but his mouth will be eager for whoever ends up being part of this game too, so might be an intoxicating rush to lie through it, see where it goes, have Eddie be genuinely shocked when he finally sees that fucking face.
well he's not subtle about following instructions, is he? no teasing or defiance, not in this moment, swell of arousal consistent from heeding orders. every word of that has its intended effect, causing Eddie to breath harder, hips jerking up into his hand that's too slow as he reads, brain and body at odds, his choice to deprive himself of more drawing a whine.
of course he's being good. holy fuck, he's really listening to this guy. a formless, voiceless mass, just someone who strings words and ideas, promises, together to get him stiff. ]
ok
[ it's harder to type, but it's also more difficult to form a ton of words to think of to even type. he has to fumble around to find something to prop the phone where he wants it to be, another hands-off photo with a timer set, a couple of photos sent that are taken clearly in succession. it's of more of him, head and shoulders, middle of his body as he's sitting in the chair, one hand splayed just beside the base of his dick, fingers brushed up against it, the other stroking slowly. and there's Eddie's head, looking down at what he's doing, dark eyes cast down so his thick lashes are on display, tousled curls sweeping downward, plain dark t-shirt pulled up to his armpits.
it takes him several more seconds to regather his phone, almost mesmerized by his own cock, but then he's typing effortfully with one hand again. ]
pretty please, I'd like that reward
sir
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his eyes roam down the stretch of his belly, to his cock, clearly painfully hard, both hands on himself and stroking. he can tell from the picture that he's trying to go slowly, trying, how sweet and obedient of him, and he can feel that heat stirring in him, his eyes lidded as he considers the picture, pumping his hand slowly over his own cock. imagining just what it'll be like to push him against a wall, close a hand over his mouth, whisper into his ear.
this silence lasts a while, too. slightly on purpose, but also just to let himself admire that picture for a little bit. he doesn't keep pictures for long, paranoid enough to delete most things off of his device when he can remember things anyway, but maybe this one will stay for a little bit, just to show eddie later that he has it.
when eddie finally gets another reply: it's an image. wash's cock, thick and hard, framed between muscled thighs, the strength of him still noticeable even through the denim. there's a noticeable glob of precome drooling from the head. his hands aren't in the fame, just a bit of an arm as he holds the device to take a picture, and it's far from enough to identify him by but enough to get a sense of his size and bulk, wearing a plain black shirt riding up just slightly with the way he's sitting, enough to show a sliver of skin and a glimpse of the hardened muscle of his abdomen, a faint tracing of scars. ]
Hard as you want, now.
Come for me.
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he really is in deep, the only guess he'd had as to what this reward might be having been just getting to go faster, to be allowed to come. because he's assumed he's supposed to wait, deducing from the other orders, so he groans aloud when he receives the photo, not expecting it. there's been a shroud over so much already, his mind reels from the uptick in sensations over seeing that cock.
there aren't identifiable markers, but again, not really what he's after. Eddie isn't searching, hasn't been pressing to be sly or coy or a wiseass for a good amount of minutes now. he's caught up in the back and forth, the pulls and shoves mingling with gentle encouragement and praise.
the guy is clearly strong, muscular and fit, and he's imagining what it'll feel like to have that thick cock driving into him when he finally goes back to read the words of the text, panting out in continuing relief because fuck he's not far off from coming at all.
naturally, there's no reply for a couple of minutes, long enough to start jerking his cock precisely in the manner he'd wanted to from the beginning, steady and quick strokes, knowing how to perfectly drive himself to climax quickly. given the permission to do so, it's what he needs, has to have. there's a loud guttural cry when come spurts out, shooting up high onto his shirt, streaming on his belly, fingers coating in the milky threads.
heaven forbid Juliette is anywhere nearby and hears him come, it's so loud.
his head throws back against the back of the chair, sighing and panting out through his release, lips pressing together, slick and smooth as he swallows, breathing out an 'ooo' of a huff from the entire endeavour.
and because it just seems like the right call, the proper thing to do, he thinks ahead, picks his device back up to angle down from just under his chin, showing the mess he's made, come-covered fingers still wrapped around his still somewhat hard cock.
that's it, he doesn't have any words to text, it's just the photo. ]
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he hadn't given eddie any further instructions. partially just to let him focus, partially just to see what he'd do, if he'd type out some staggered words later. but the reply is instead exactly what he would've asked for, another photo, eddie just after having come all over himself, barely settled down, his fingers slick and wet with it, stained everywhere.
mm. wash squeezes his hand over himself, watching for a few moments, before answering. ]
Good boy.
Did you like your reward?
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if this keeps up, there's gonna be a round two for him, and really, he should probably consider just going home for the day. upset stomach or something. making up a little white lie to get out of work. Juliette would just roll her eyes probably, but fuck if this conversation doesn't continue to stay hot. ]
:)
Came hard from seeing it, so I would say, yes, I did.
Thank you.
[ does receiving the photo require gratitude? it kinda just flies out across the buttons, and he hits send. ]
Gonna be real fucking hard waiting for that cock to fuck me, though.
You did that on purpose, didn't you?
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he hums in quiet amusement. thinking, considering, as he keeps pumping his land slowly over his cock. ]
Did what on purpose?
[ :') ]
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ha ha. cute.
So. What're YOU doing now?
[ look he's trying to picture it, and you made him thirsty, what else is he supposed to do? not ask in his usual way of existing now that he's bounced back a little? ]
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with certain limits. eddie doesn't get to expect answers about what sir is doing -- and anything more that wash gives him will come with their additional caveats. ]
I was minding my own business before a stranger accosted me on the network, Eddie.
[ so rude. ]
Was there anything else you wanted?
[ it's not completely cold, enough playfulness in it even just in text. but if eddie wants anything more, he's gonna have to do better than just ask what he's doing. ]
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he's about to say something like that he guesses he'll just wait until he's accosted then, smiley face and all, but then that question comes. he considers it, deciding to be honest rather than joke around or tease too bluntly. or, that's what he goes for, anyhow. ]
Maybe I just like talking to you.
But if you like being alone with a hardon like that, go nuts
Guess I'll just have to think about it on my own time
[ the attitude on this one. ]
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I do like talking to you.
[ a little playful, gently encouraging. he's still here for this. just pushing, testing. ]
Like the sight of my cock enough that you're gonna look at it more in your own time, Eddie? Touch yourself to it even more? Finger yourself pretending it's my dick fucking you open and whimpering because you know it's not as good as how it'll really feel?
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