We connected again. Taylor showed up on camera as if nothing had happened last time. Not a word about what I’d seen. Smiling, laid-back, hair messy, chest under a fresh T-shirt. I pretended to be calm too, but inside I felt the tension rush back instantly.
“Dude, look at this,” he said and moved his laptop away to show his whole body. He raised his arm, flexing his biceps. “Today's pump.”
His biceps glistened in the light, and the muscle on his chest twitched as he changed position. I liked it, but I kept up a playful tone.
“Okay, okay, I get it. You're a walking gym poster.”
He laughed, running his hand down his neck as if to emphasize the lines of his muscles.
“No, seriously, look,” he said, pulling his shirt back to reveal his stomach. A six-pack like in those damn supplement ads. “What do you think?”
I pretended to be cool. “Looks good. But you're sucking in your stomach, right?” I said half-jokingly to break the tension.
He burst out laughing and flexed his muscles even more. “No, fuck. It's all hard work.”
And I sat there, staring at the screen, spellbound. The same arms, the same chest that had been in my dreams for the last few nights. I wanted to believe that everything was back to normal, that it was just a mistake, but I felt like we were pretending. That underneath all the jokes and “show off” there was something we both remembered very well.
Every move he made reminded me of that moment when he looked at the camera and jerked off, and I sat with my dick in my hand on the other side. And now again... I felt that familiar tingling in my stomach.
But I sat up straight, pretending it was just a normal conversation. Just a normal webcam chat. Two friends. Except that neither of us had forgotten.
Taylor suddenly looked straight at the screen and smiled that overly confident smile of his. “Okay, now it's your turn.” He raised his eyebrows as if it were obvious.
“Show me what you’ve been working on.”
I froze. My heart started beating faster, but I pretended it was a joke. “What, you want me to do a bodybuilding show?”
“Exactly.” He nodded and flexed his biceps again. “I showed you mine, now you have to show me yours.”
I sat there in silence for a moment. Damn it. Everything in me was screaming to say no, but the other part... the part that remembered his cock on the screen, was already showing me images of me undressing in front of him. I sighed, unzipped my sweatshirt, and pulled off my T-shirt.
“Come on, don't be shy,” he said when he saw me in just my boxers.
I raised my arm, flexed my biceps, then ran my hand over my stomach, showing off my abs. The light fell in such a way that the shadows highlighted every muscle.
“Not bad, man,” he said with a smile.
I tried to play it cool, but I felt the heat rising on my neck. I was standing there in just my boxers, and he looked at me like I was at some kind of audition. His gaze slid down to my hips.
“Turn around,” he suddenly said. “Your ass looks pretty good.”
I froze, staring at the screen. — “No way…”
“You’ve got nothing to be shy about with me. I’ll judge you like a coach, tell you if there’s anything to fix.”
I felt my stomach tighten. My hands went to the elastic waistband of my boxers. My heart was pounding. “Fuck, am I really doing this?”
I stood there for a moment, my hands on the elastic of my boxers. Every breath sounded too loud, as if a microphone was about to reveal that my heart was pounding in my chest like crazy. Taylor waited. He didn't rush me or pressure me, he just looked at the screen and smiled.
Slowly, almost in disbelief, I pulled my boxers down halfway, then all the way down until they fell to my feet. I turned sideways, then backwards. I stood naked, the light highlighting every contour.
For a moment there was silence. Then I heard Taylor’s low laugh.
“Fuck…” he muttered under his breath. “Man, it’s perfect.” He continued, his tone seemingly playful, but there was something heavier, more intimate in his words.
“No fat, smooth, firm... perfect shape. Seriously, you don't need to touch anything.”
I felt the skin on the back of my neck burning. I stood stiffly, pretending to be cool, but my body betrayed me: my buttocks were tense, my back was shivering, my cock was getting harder and harder, drooping down between my legs. I was aware that I was showing him everything. And that he had control over me.
“You can turn around now,” he said after a moment, still with that damn smile. “But seriously, man... wow.”
I lifted my boxers and quickly pulled them up to my hips, as if that would erase what he had just seen.
We said goodbye as if nothing had happened, a few words about training, that we'd talk tomorrow. But I sat there in front of the screen, knowing neither of us would be able to pretend things were normal for much longer.
The screen dimmed as if the conversation was over. I stayed silent, but I didn't close my laptop. Something stopped me. And then I noticed that the camera was still on. The image flickered and returned, Taylor was still in the room. He was standing sideways, as if he had forgotten that I could still see him.
He slowly pulled down his boxers. His cock popped out immediately, already hard and throbbing. I swallowed hard, unable to take my eyes off him. He reached under the bed and took out something I didn't expect to see, a fake ass. He placed it on the bed, grabbed a bottle of lube, and poured it generously over his cock. The sound of the gel being smeared was so clear that it sent shivers down my spine.
“Fuck...” I whispered to myself.
Taylor grabbed the fake ass with both hands and drove into it with one hard thrust. His hips pounded in rhythm, his body tightening with every move. And then I suddenly heard him growl loudly:
“Matt...”
I froze. “Taylor, the camera's on!” I blurted out in panic.
But he just looked straight into the lens and smiled the same smile he had when he was jerking off in front of me. And he didn't stop. He fucked the fake ass harder, louder, panting and repeating my name between thrusts.
I couldn't hold back any longer. My boxers were wet with pre-cum, so I pulled them down and grabbed my cock. A few quick strokes were enough. My whole body tensed, and I shot with such force that cum flew onto the keyboard, my hand, and the desk. I moaned loudly, but I didn't even try to stifle it.
On the screen, Taylor was close too. He clenched his hands on the fake ass and instead of pulling away, he pushed deeper, moaning heavily. He came inside, holding his hips tightly pressed against it, as if he really wanted to fill it. After a moment, he pulled out slowly, his breath ragged. And then the image faded.
He left me sweaty, weak, my hands still trembling. I was about to close my laptop when a notification popped up. A message from him.
“Did you like it? Because all I can think about is what it would be like to fuck your ass.”
My heart jumped to my throat. This wasn’t an accident anymore. This was a game. And I was in it, all the way.
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