Male Review (12 page)

The room looked the way Sam had left it. His dumbbells sat in the corner. A towel hung over the back of the reclining chair he loved to have sex in, with her or alone, although she hoped with her was more fun. Inhaling deeply, she smelt the warm spicy musk of his cologne. She could only really tell he had gone when she opened the closet and saw most of his clothes missing and her mother’s hanging in their place. A check of his bedside table revealed he’d left his half empty box of condoms behind. Did that mean he didn’t think he would need them? One way or another she’d have Sam. They’d need to be more devious about setting up a rendezvous in a place where no one would disturb them. She rescued one of his T-shirts from the bottom drawer. After rubbing the brushed cotton material against her cheek she stripped naked and tugged the garment over her head. Sam probably expected her to pull on something sexy, but the smell of Sam was far more erotic than the sensation of lace or silk touching her skin and anyway, he’d have no idea what she was actually wearing.

She made herself comfortable, propped up on a pile of pillows on Sam’s bed, and then called his number. The phone barely rang before his deep rumble echoed down the line

“Hey, sexy. Are you ready to play?”

A sigh escaped her lips and she snuggled deeper into the cushions. If Sam were in bed she knew half a dozen games that would be on the menu, but until he told her what the plan was her best guess was phone sex. Would he want her to talk dirty to him whilst he pleasured himself? The thought of hearing him grunt his release with a deeply felt yee-haw made her insides tense with need. However, if this was a chance for her to get him off over the phone why did he want her to change her clothes?

“What are we playing, and why am I nearly naked?”

“You’ll find out. Now you need to go into my bottom desk drawer.”

Meg climbed off the bed and pulled the drawer open. Did he keep sex toys in there? And if he did, she needed to hide them. What would her mother have done if she found them? “What am I looking for?”

“My netbook. Once you have it, climb back on the bed and switch it on.”

Meg did as he asked, and then lifted the phone to her ear. “Now what?”

“Now you can log into Messenger and switch the Webcam on. I want to watch you.”

“Watch me what?” Her heart was racing and her mouth felt dry.

“Watch you having a good time for me.”

“What will you be doing?”

“Log in and you’ll see.”

She logged into Messenger and clicked on Sam’s ID. Her breath caught in her throat and she turned her head sideways. Dear God, where on earth did he have his laptop positioned, and surely an erection that big must hurt like hell. She’d heard horror stories in the news about what perverts got up to with webcams, but Sam wasn’t a pervert. She giggled. Much. Besides, the police wouldn’t be able to see them, would they?

“Oh my, you’re hard and … hard.” She swallowed loudly. “Will anyone else be watching?”

“Not unless you invite them to join our conversation. Now you’ve seen mine, I need to see yours. Put the netbook on the bed and lie back for me, baby. Let me see you get hot and wet.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

There would be no getting, she was there already. Seeing Sam’s Ted at attention made her hot, bothered, no matter where they were. His dick was the world’s greatest aphrodisiac. Nervous and very self-conscious, she followed his instructions. Sam got her to pull her knees up and move the screen to the correct angle so the camera got the picture he wanted. Meg had never looked at herself from Sam’s point of view and she was kind of grateful she wasn’t watching from his point of view now. However, she had no complaints about the vision of erect manliness currently filling her screen.

Sam ran his fist the length of his steely rod, pulling back his foreskin, and Meg moaned her appreciation. That was the sight that first got her hooked on Sam, all that brimming testosterone and masculinity on show, just for her. God, she ached with need.

“Meg?”

She barely squeaked out, “What?”

“I kinda hoped this would be a mutual show of love and appreciation. You know I enjoy jacking off as much as the next man, actually maybe more than the next man, but it would be far more erotic if you played along.”

Meg twirled a curl of hair around her fingers, feeling shy and very unsure about the whole thing now. She might make a complete prat of herself. The only time she masturbated was when she was alone and strictly in the dark. No one had ever watched, and she wasn’t sure her efforts would be a big turn on for someone else.

Sam continued to stroke his dick using a slow sensual rhythm. He whispered, “Lie back against the pillows and relax. Now watch me. You see me?”

Her voice was barely audible. “I see.”

He chuckled. “Good, baby. Okay, slide your hand between your legs and touch yourself gently. Let me watch you. Show me what you like.”

Pressing the phone close to her ear she slipped her right hand between her widespread thighs and ran a finger the length of her slit.

His moan of, “Good, Meg. Oh real good,” gave her the confidence to be a little more adventurous. She swirled her fingers in the moisture pooling at her entrance and ran them up and over her already engorged clit. Sam’s dick seemed to fill even more of the screen as he pummeled harder.

With a deep sensual voice, Sam whispered, “I wish my tongue was your finger. I’d bury my face between your legs and lap you like sweet honey, suck your clit between my lips, then tongue fuck you until you begged for mercy. Can you feel it? Can you sense my hot tongue on your body? Can you imagine me kissing your pussy, sucking, nibbling, teasing?”

Meg’s eyes rolled back in her head and she panted out Sam’s name at the thought. His slow sensual chuckle made her squirm inside and out.

Her focus returned to the one man porn show currently playing just for her. She met him stroke for stroke as he worked at reaching climax. Her pussy ached with a fierce need for something to fill it. Every muscle in her body was tense, every nerve overly sensitized; even her nipples were hard and throbbed in time with the warm pulse building deep in her abdomen.

“Meg, baby, oh baby. You’re so beautiful. Your pussy is so wet I want to bury myself inside you and ride you until you scream my name.”

She whimpered at the thought. Staring at the red engorged head of his penis, currently weeping with desire, she licked her lips as she imagined tonguing him and taking him deep in her mouth. She whispered, “I wish you were here so I could suck you off. Suck you so hard you couldn’t stop yourself from letting go and yelling yee-haw, then I’d suck you some more until you got hard, and screw you until you begged me to stop. God I want your cock inside me.”

A low moan of, “Oh Jesus, Meg,” was his only response before he went into a jack off frenzy. Eyes firmly fixed on the screen she dropped the phone to the bed and plunged the fingers of her other hand deep inside her as she massaged her hard nub. Just when she thought she would die if she didn’t get off, Sam’s hand jerked and a jet of spunk shot out of his dick, the vision sent her tumbling over the edge. Her pussy convulsed around her fingers as her body arched and twitched with each wave of her orgasm. His yell of “yee-haw” floated up from the discarded phone mingling with the deep throaty moan of “Sam” that escaped her. She rolled onto her side, panting for air as the last jolts of fulfillment echoed through her.

“Meg? Meg?”

She searched the bed with her hand, too exhausted to move much more of her body. Finding the phone, she lifted it to her ear.

“I’m here.”

“Look at me.”

She rolled over and looked at the screen. Sam replaced his erection with his smiling face. Meg couldn’t help but smile back.

“I love you, Meg.”

She let out a sigh of contentment. “Love you too. That was amazing … but…”

“But?”

“I still miss the real thing.”

“I know. Me too. Maybe we can work something out when you come to collect me later.” He blew her a kiss. “I better go and get cleaned up before someone comes to investigate the noise.”

“Sam?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you covered in spunk?”

He chuckled. “Pretty much.”

“I wish I could lick it off for you.”

“Oh God, don’t say that. I’ll never get my bike shorts back on.”

She giggled at the thought of him wrestling an erection into the Lycra garment. A sigh escaped her. She wanted to curl up and sleep, preferably with Sam, but she had her orders. “I had better go and pick Mum and Maud up. I’ll see you later.”

“You bet ya. Bye.”

He hung up and signed off, and she flopped onto her back with another loud sigh. She really wasn’t in the mood for her mother’s histrionics. She needed to talk to her dad and find out how much longer the long game would take.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Showered, refreshed, and ready to handle anything, Meg maneuvered her car into the bar’s car park and pulled in next to a black Porsche with the license plate HARD ON. Obviously Maud hadn’t managed to scare Michael away, yet.

Deep bass music boomed from the building and she wondered just what could be going on inside. Her mother would never put up with listening to ‘trash’ like that. Perhaps she’d come to her senses, caught a cab and gone back to her tastefully decorated three bedroom home in what she considered one of the more salubrious suburbs. Meg pushed the door open and stood on the threshold, her mouth gaping at the scene inside. Apparently, she wasn’t as ready for anything as she’d thought.

Along the wall to her left, Michael and Chad appeared to be going through their paces for the big opening night act. They both wore skintight, black, leather stripper pants. Chad had on a black full face mask, only his height and build gave his identity away. Michael, on the other hand, seemed to want to be recognized. The mask of Zorro only covered enough of his face to tantalize, not to hide who he was. However, the two male strippers currently cracking whips and striding like a couple of peacocks to the booming raunchy guitar riff wasn’t what had rendered her speechless. She wasn’t even fazed that Maud, clad in some slinky silver leotard number, stood tied to what looked to be a torture device set up between the two hunks. The old lady writhed in time to the beat. Bondage was probably right up her alley, even better if she had male company. What halted Meg on the threshold to the bar was the vision of her mother apparently passed out face down on a table halfway across the room, a bottle of something still clasped in her hand.

Meg let the door bang behind her and marched into the bar. Laura stood up from behind the counter.

“What have you done to my mother?”

Laura frowned. “Nothing.” She pointed to where her mother sat. “She’s right there.”

Meg clenched her fists. Her mother didn’t drink. Well, not much more than the occasional sherry, and then only on special occasions. The Queen’s birthday, Royal Weddings, etc. She didn’t drink what appeared to be rum, straight from the bottle.

“Not what I meant. Did you ply her with drink?”

“Vivienne’s a grown woman and this is a bar. If she wants a drink, who am I to stop her? Leave her be. What harm will it do if she learns to let her hair down a little? You’re always saying she’s too uptight.”

“Letting go a little and getting roaring drunk are not the same thing. She’ll be mortified when she sobers up.”

Laura grinned. “If she sobers up.”

Meg glanced back just in time to see her lift the bottle to her mouth and take a large glug before coughing and spluttering.

The music continued to rattle the room as she crossed to her mother’s table and removed the bottle from her hand before she had a chance to take another swig. Her mother looked up at her and grinned. “Meg, Meggie, my darling, my little girl. You wanna drink?”

Meg pulled out a seat and slid into it. She’d seen many sides to her mother over the years, but never drunk, never with her hat at a jaunty angle, and absolutely
never
with her skirt halfway up her thighs.

“No I don’t, and neither do you. What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

After a great deal of concentration she slurred out, “Did you know your dad’s got another woman?”

“What?”

Her mother waggled a finger in the air. “I saw that brazen hussy, Milly Sanders, coming out of my house wearing my bathrobe and he stood there on the doorstep seeing her off in nothing but one of my fully imported Egyptian cotton towels. I’ll be a complete laughingstock.” At that her mother buried her face in her hands and burst into tears.

Oh God
. What was her dad playing at? Surely not? And not with Milly. She had to be at least fifteen years younger than him, and rumor had it she had a very high sex drive to go along with her manmade boobs. Meg refused to jump to conclusions. Her dad would have a reasonable explanation as to why the vamp had been in his house, naked, or near naked. Any explanation would be better than buying into what her mother clearly believed was going on. He loved her mother, and from the way she was wailing loud enough to drown out the music, it seemed the feeling was mutual, unless she was only concerned about her reputation.

Meg wrapped her arms around her mother and held on until the sobbing subsided.

She only realized the music had stopped when she felt a hand on her shoulder. “I made your ma a cup of coffee.”

A glance behind her revealed an all but naked Michael Monaghan with a steaming mug in hand. He placed it on the table and reached out to push a lock of errant curls behind Meg’s ear. The boy had a rock hard body, and enough to fill his costume and then some. She refused to drop her gaze below his face. The glimpse of posing pouch she’d seen left nothing to the imagination. Not that she needed an imagination; Michael had gladly dropped his pants to show off his tackle when he mistakenly thought she’d been the one hiring male prostitutes rather than Laura. She couldn’t help but wonder if the deep red garment was made to measure for it to be so snug.

“Can I get you something? You look like you could use a massage.” He raised an eyebrow seductively and any thoughts Meg might have been harboring about how sweet it was of him to care about her mother quickly disappeared. The man always played the game, and this was just another angle to try and get into her knickers. How many times did she have to refuse him, and why was she such a big attraction to the male of the species all of a sudden? She had all the man she needed in Sam. The thought of Sam made her sigh. Thanks to her dad’s errant ways, her mother seemed less, not more, likely to go home any day soon. Perhaps she should just kidnap Sam and run away with him.