Page 123 of Full Body Hit, Part 1

You’re gonna get what’s coming to you. You know that, right?

Charlie responded with a heart emoji.

These were the times when it hurt not to be face-to-face the most because Auston would paint Charlie’s ass red if he could, and they’d both enjoy every second of it.

The pictures were relentless. Throughout the mingling portion, the dinner, the stupid fucking auction—he was going to have some sort of cardiac disorder by the end of this with how his heart jumped every time his phone buzzed.

Charlie sent him the most torturous striptease of Auston’s life. Photos of his fingers digging under his stocking, pulling the edges tight. Of his palm on his trapped cock. Of his nipples being pinched or throat being stroked.

It was the last one that really did Auston in.

He gripped his phone, hand aching, as the message came through.

Charlie had his ass to the camera, perfectly round and pale and smooth, ripe for smacking. Honestly, that alone would have had Auston hard at the best of times.

But then there was the fact that Charlie had replaced his panties with a goddamn jockstrap.

It framed his cheeks perfectly, accentuating the plug peeking out from his hole.

“What the fuck,” Auston hissed. He hadn’t gotten Charlie that jockstrap, the little devil.

Auston was supposed to stay a little while longer at the gala, but he truly did not give a fuck. He didn’t even say goodbye, going straight to coat check and then giving the valet his number while typing one-handed.

Aunix

Do NOT come

I’m on my way home

Charlie

Hurry daddy please I’m so hard I don’t know if I can wait

Aunix

Yes you can.

The responsible thing would be to wait until he was home to talk to Charlie. Instead, Auston called the moment he got into the driver’s seat.

“Daddy,” Charlie’s voice whined in greeting, and Jesus Christ if that didn’t go straight to his cock. He’d suspected that the pictures were live, but now he knew—his baby wasn’t a good enough actor to fake the desperation in his voice.

“Charlie,” Auston replied, voice almost as rough.

“Please, Daddy. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have teased you but it was hard for me too. I need—please let me come. Please, please—”

“Hell no,” Auston barked. “You started this. You wait for me.”

Charlie whined, and all Auston could do about it was curse every red light he had to stop at. “I can’t…I’m using your dick, Daddy, I’m so fucking open…”

Auston had to concentrate not to crash the fucking car. He palmed his hard cock for a second to ease the ache, but it just made it worse. “You come and I’m buying you a cock cage you’ll have to wear for the next six fucking months,” he growled.

Auston wasn’t usually one to make obviously empty threats—at most, he’d make Charlie wear it for a month—but he was so fucking riled up, his head was spinning.

It was a goddamn shame he didn’t know where Charlie lived because spanking his ass purple would do wonders to calm him down.

Charlie continued to make pathetic little noises through the speakers of the car. Every time he went quiet, Auston made sure that he was still fucking himself—he didn’t have permission to stop until Auston told him to.

“D-Daddy,” Charlie cried, voice absolutely pitiful, but Auston felt zero remorse. Charlie had been edging for hours voluntarily. He’d been the one to unilaterally decide to distract Auston in what was a very important work event. Or, well, could have been an important work event as far as Charlie knew.