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JP: Come on. Live a little.
JP: I'll be quiet, I promise.
JP: Make me cum, Coach.
I stare at the phone, frozen, for I don't know how long. My cock is throbbing with the possibilities of what I can do to him without even touching him.
He coughs audibly when I turn the plug on.
BN: …
JP: My bad, you caught me off guard.
JP: Fuck, it feels good, Coach.
JP: More, please.
I turn up the intensity just a tad and set it to a slow, intermittent pulse. My eyes glance over the seats at him. He's sitting sideways in the seat with his head resting back against the window, covertly biting his fist in a way that looks casual, but I know better.
BN: What does it feel like?
JP: Good. Pressure. I'm fucking hard as a rock.
BN: Show me.
A moment later, a picture appears on my screen. The lighting of the flash under the darkness of the blanket makes his cock look pale, but even bigger than usual. He sends me another picture of his hand wrapped around the head of his cock, liquid seeping from the slit. My mouth waters. I change the pattern of the pulse, three short bursts and then a longer burst.
JP: Fuck.
BN: You like that?
JP: Not as much as I like your fat cock inside me.
I nearly groan out loud, and reposition myself so I'm leaning back in the corner, with my knee up on the seat to hide my movements. I have to at least reposition my cock before I blow a load in my pants. I turn up the intensity on the plug.
JP: Fuck, I'm going to cum.
Shit, me too. Fuck. What am I going to do with this?
I glance back at him again, and aside from the pained look and sheen of sweat on his face, it looks like he could be sleeping. The bus is quiet. The few that are still awake are focused on the screens in front of them, or their phones. The bathroom door opens, and Grant Gipson walks out. He doesn't look around at all, heading right back to his seat, leaning back, and pulling his hat down over his eyes.
I'm so stupid.
Pulling my impossibly hard cock against my stomach, I hike my waistband up higher to keep it contained and yank my hoodie down to cover the unmistakable bulge. With a crushing grip on my phone, I stand and make my way, slowly and cautiously, to the back of the bus.
Not one person so much as looks up to acknowledge me on my way back towards the bathroom, nor does anyone notice that I bypass the bathroom and stop in front of Jack's seat. Standing casually with my back to the rest of the bus, I lean on the seat and pull out my dick at the same time that Jack pulls the blanket away, showing me his trembling, leaking cock. With one hand, I turn up the intensity of the butt plug to high, while my other hand aims my cock, directing the spray of my cum onto Jack's lap. With a choked gasp, his cock erupts at the same time, splashing against his stomach and lap.
I watch him while I play with the control, moving the intensity up and down while he jerks his cock and pants. I’m certain that if anyone looked back here, they'd either think Jack was hurt or they would definitely guess what's really happening. But I can't take my eyes off him, fascinated by the way he keeps going, spasming even after he's run out of cum.
"God. Please. Stop," he chokes out. I take pity on him, but only because of the likelihood of him drawing attention.
"You should know better than to play with me," I say, tucking my cock back in my pants before closing myself into the tiny bathroom. My head is spinning, like I might have an anxiety attack.
What the fuck am I doing?
I don't look back at Jack when I leave the restroom to walk back to my seat. Sleep comes easily after the intense release, and I nap the rest of the drive.
CHAPTER 23
