Page 15 of Freddie

Sometimes when inquiries came in for the club, they could border on creepy or overly intrusive. It was something I never thought would happen, but like anywhere you work or community you join, there’s a small percentage who lack respect and privacy. With Nyctra being so exclusive, there was no way I would have let the interview continue if it had gone that way.

A part of me wanted to tell my old friend about my new infatuation with the interviewer, but I knew Freddie kept his online presence separate from his life away from work, and I wanted to respect that. So, for now, Freddie would be my secret.

“I knew you wouldn’t let me down. I’ll send them a thank-you gift for a great interview! Have you got plans before heading home? You could use some fun in your life, friend.”

God, don’t I know it. But I sigh knowing that the only fun I was having tonight would be with my left hand.

“There’s an afterparty for the expo, why don’t you stop by,” Burt says when I don’t reply.

“Yeah, maybe. I have some grading tomorrow so I might just go for an early night,” I lie.

I hear his own sigh at my indignation, and he resigns his push for me to get laid and tells me a little of his adventure home, his mother, and when he intends to be back for work. We say our goodbyes, and I look down at my pathetic warm drink as I promise him to have fun soon.

Chapter 17

Simmons

I check out early the next morning. No point in staying longer than I have to; plus, I have a coffee date with Arnie to drop off the toys he asked me to get him while at the expo. His collection for his attic room is bordering on addiction, but who am I to judge with the wardrobe of latex I have at home?

I reach the queue at the desk to see two gorgeous desk staff giggling and speaking in hushed tones. As I catch their eyes, they both turn red, as if they’ve been caught doing something they shouldn’t. I narrow my eyes to where they stand, looking at a black box on the desk. It’s glossy, square, and decorated with a tartan bow. Whatever it is, it must be expensive. The staff look at me once more, then rush off behind a black curtain, still whispering.

When it’s my turn to check out, the woman tells me to wait a moment, and as I watch her leave her seat, I realise that she’s bringing the fancy box back over with her.

“This arrived for you late last night. I had security check it over, but it seems it’s just a gift from someone who didn’t want to disturb your sleep last night. Like I said, it was very late that they had it dropped off.”

I stare at it, then at her, before a burst of laughter I didn’t realise was begging for release erupts from me. Good god. That has to be from Freddie. Who knew what it was, but given the men who went red when they saw me, it had to be something from the expo.

As embarrassed as I should be, I’m just not. I don’t need to answer to anyone about my kinks or sex life. Providing answers to nosy staff is definitely not something I need to do. I thank the woman, lifting the box before heading out the glass doors of the hotel. Home, then I’d deal with whatever this brat has sent me that’s caused such a fuss.

I chuckle as I take my keys from the valet. God, I wanted his presence so badly. My body aches in ways it never has for the attention of someone who I know next to nothing about. I make a promise to myself as I drive home to send him a message thanking him. If only he knew the impact of what he’s done. A fire had been sparking in my body, and it had extinguished so long ago that I had forgotten its feeling.

When I park outside, I see Gerard and knowing that I’ll be stuck talking about car parts for eternity, I duck out the car and leave my overnight bag as I grab the gift box and leg it to the front door with just a wave to him.

Flicking on the lights, I go around and open some windows as I head up to my room. Going straight for my bed, I relax into my mattress, my head against the headboard. Nothing beats getting home and getting into your own bed with your own stuff. I check the time and see I have about an hour before I need to meet Arnie. Carefully, I take the box from my side table and remove the small card placed beneath the ribbon.

S, I hope you won’t forget about me, F

This note seems more serious than the playful one from last night. Wondering if there was the possibility that he was feeling the same as I was, I pull apart the ribbon, lifting the lid of the glossy box and peeking inside. It’s filled with that fancy black tissue paper that takes up almost all the box. Deciding to tip the whole thing onto the bed instead, I rifle through it to get to the gift.

A plastic package with a very obvious dildo shape sits facing me. He got me a dildo. Most people, when they meet me, hook up with me, or see me in the club with a sub, automatically assume I only top. That Freddie didn’t assume that about me makes me ache to kiss him again. Looking over the package, I notice it’s from one of the vendors that had on a couple of events over the weekend.

I try to think back to what the event was, but I can’t remember. Maybe the vendors handed out dildos as goodies. But then, why the expensive box and bow?

Jumping off the bed, I taking the stairs two at a time to grab my rucksack from the car. Back in my room, I unzip the pouch at the front to find the map of the expo and events. Scanning it with a quickness that was sure to hurt my old eyes later, I find the business name and the events they had put on.

Jesus fucking Christ.

I nearly fall as I try to knee-walk from the bag to the gift on the bed. It’s his dick. It’s his fucking dick. Pulling open the plastic, I grab it out of its mould and take in the most absurd treasure I have ever been gifted. Gripping the girthy piece, I turn it over to reveal the business name on the base and another gift message.

Property of Big Bear

Oh, fuck. Hard as steel, I somehow get to my ensuite and wash it, then grab lube. I strip as I turn on the shower, slamming the dick onto the wall by the suctioned bottom at the right height and getting in once the water is just perfect. Lubing up two fingers, I plunge them into my hole; the burn feels as good as it always does. It doesn’t take much to prep me, something I’m more than grateful for in this moment.

Feeling light-headed, like I’m drunk, I fall to my knees first, looking at the replica up close. He has such a gorgeous cock. I’ve never seen one so veiny before, like obscenely so. It’s about 3 and a half inches in size with a perfect curve that I know is going to have me shooting in no time. Despite having given him a hand job, it was under his kilt, and I regretted it immensely that I didn’t rip it off him to see him bare. But knowing that this is what my fingers touched? Good enough now.

I poke my tongue out and flick the silicone tip. Something about knowing it’s Freddie’s sets me off, and I have it swallowed whole before I can stop myself. God, I wish it were the real thing. Even as a dominant, I enjoy sucking my sub’s cock. I want to be able to feast on it whenever I want. To keep it locked up, only letting it out when it’s my time to pet, suck, and fuck with it. I finger myself more and I tug at my own length between my legs before standing.

Leaning back, I slide it inside to the hilt. Good god. I shamelessly let my moans be heard. I love it. Sex. Passion. Need. So natural, yet so much shame is found in it. Not for me, though.