If you had asked me before I left, I would have told you the nights would be the hardest. But at night I'm at a club or an opening, or better yet, in my studio, and I usually come home so exhilirated and exhausted by the city and all it has to offer that I fall asleep without a thought.
Instead, it's the mornings and waking up alone, that make it hard to remember why I'm here.
In my dreams, I can feel his cock pressing inside me, but when I wake up I'm hard and empty.
But then he's here, in my ear, telling me how he'd fill my hole up with his tongue and his fingers and his cock. How he'd fuck me the way I need to be fucked. When I come, it's with my hand on my cock and my fingers filling up my hole. My fingers, not his.
But my body jerks hard and my come stripes my belly and for a few seconds I can pretend he's here. I wiggle my fingers in my ass and an intense aftershock shoots up my spine and makes my cock spurt out one last drop.
One hand still working my ass gently, I use the other to run through the mess on my stomach, smearing some up to my lips. I tell Brian every detail. How it feels to be momentarily satisfied. My own warm, wet come on my skin and in my mouth and my fingers in my ass still stretching and stroking.
He pauses to make sure I hear him, drawing me in. But it doesn't matter, because I know exactly what he's going to say.
"Justin... get the plug."
I reach into the drawer and start feeling around.
"The big one, Justin."
I was hoping he'd say that.
I haven't responded yet, but he knows I'm doing exactly what he wants because it's exactly what I want.
"Do you have it?"
"Get it really wet, it's four hours today, you can call me in four hours."
The longest I've ever made it is two.
"And I'm going to wait with you."
Jesus. I know how hard and wet his cock is right now. Thinking of him trying to to tame it enough to get it into his suit pants and then walking around all morning aching, the way I'm aching... well I might have found a new incentive to make it the whole four hours. Or I might come the second I push the plug in.
He listens to me while I press the plug inside and I make a point of putting on a show, moaning and panting.
I can imagine the way the precome is beading up on the tip of his dick and all I want it to do is lick it off, feel it slick on my tongue.
I tell him to taste it for me. He moans when his thumb swipes over the head of his cock and again when he tastes himself. I rock against the plug until he breaks the spell.
"You've made me very wet... and very late."
Fifteen minutes later, I drag myself out of bed. Every step reminds me that I have three hours and forty-five minutes left of this throbbing torture. But I shower imagining Brian as desperate as I am, more so maybe, not having come yet at all this morning, and I manage to soap, rinse, dry and dress myself without breaking down.
The walk to my studio with my ass plugged is always my favorite part.
On a normal day I walk down these streets and I feel like I'm a part of it all, like I'm really doing it, and I'm so proud of myself I can't stop smiling. But on days when I'm plugged, I feel like I'm floating above it all.
I paint and the morning goes by. I find myself rocking against the stool I normally only sit on when I've been painting all day and I'm not ready to stop but my feet need a break. I look up at the clock and it's been almost three hours. A new personal record.
I dial Brian and when he answers, I start rocking again.
"I can't wait anymore."
"Well you're going to have to because I'm meeting with Ted right now."
I moan and it should be from disappointment, but it's mostly pleasure.
"Twenty minutes. I'll call in twenty minutes. Wait for me."
I look at the clock and grip my paintbrush a little tighter.
When he calls, I'm naked on the futon Brian insisted I get for my studio for just this purpose.
"You didn't come without me did you?"
"No, but the way I feel, you're lucky I didn't come answering the phone."
"It's just big and it's been stretching and filling me... fucking rubbing me for hours."
"Press on it."
And then I'm lost. I don't even know what the fuck he's saying anymore, it's just the thick silicone plug pressing against my prostate, my hand on my cock and his voice in my ear.