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Mark adjusted the camera, his face a little too close to the lens, pupils dilated, hair sticking out like he’d run his hands through it fifty times. “Okay, uh… you can see me, right?”
You smirked, sprawled out on your bed in an oversized hoodie that read “FBI: Female Body Inspector”, legs kicked up behind you, webcam tilted just off enough to make it artsy. “Crystal clear. You look like you're about to sell me car insurance, though.” You said longingly as you looked at the camera.
You were in your hotel all alone. Gone on a trip but the people you went with ditched you to go to some club that you had no interested in.
Mark flushed to himself sheepishly. “This is supposed to be hot. Like… you know, sexy?”
You widened your eyes and leaned forward, whispering theatrically in the best voice you could, “Are you going to invade me, Invincible?”
His eyes flicking to your lips, then your cleavage, then somewhere over your shoulder like he was begging the ceiling to save him. “C’mon, be serious,” he groaned, running a hand through his hair again. “We said we’d try this. Like for real.”
“Oh, I’m serious,” you purred, scooting closer to the cam until only your nose and eyes filled the frame. “I’ve never done this before, Mark. What if you corrupt me?” You wiggled your brows with exaggerated innocence, then suddenly pulled a banana into frame. “Teach me… Sensei.”
“Wha- why is there a banana?” Mark said in confusion.
“For anatomy class.” You peeled it dramatically, licking the side of it before you took a bite of it. “I heard potassium makes it taste better.”
Mark groaned, half-laughing, half-dying inside. “You’re impossible. And please.. don't ever do that to my dick.” He said, in reference to you chewing the banana.
You dropped the act for a second, tilting your head, watching his face go pink through the screen. “Oh, I don’t know… you seem pretty into it.” You zoomed in slowly with your phone camera like a terrible YouTube vlog. “Look at him, folks. He’s got that ‘about to nut in 720p’ face.” You said with a small, playful smirk on your face. Of course you weren't actually recording, you were just teasing Mark.
“Okay,” he said as he finally gave in. “You wanna play games?”
You raised a brow. “I am a certified FBI agent, sir. I play no games.”
He leaned back in his chair, his jaw tightened. His hand slid under the desk. “Then arrest me, officer.”
Oh. You blinked as you set your own banana down.
Mark’s tongue peeked out across his bottom lip, the first button of his shirt now undone. He was actually committing. He wasn't going to give up this time around.
Mark leaned back just enough to show you the top edge of his boxers peeking out from beneath his sweatpants, his hand already palming himself through the fabric. He had a grin on his face that was far to confident for a guy who never even so much as sexted before.
“You really think you’re the only one who knows how to tease?” he murmured, eyes locking with yours through the screen like he could tell that it was getting you undone.
You recovered fast. “Oh? Is that your game face, Grayson? I can do a lot better than that. You're too wholesome to do this.”
Mark chuckled, then, he grabbed the waistband of his sweats and slooowly dragged them down just enough to free himself. No flash, no awkward fumble, just one quick movement. His cock flopped out, already half-hard and getting thicker by the second in his fist.
“Still wholesome?” he asked, one brow quirked like a challenge.
You leaned forward, actually amazed that Mark was doing this and half laughing at the whole situation. “Hooooly shit. Is that your actual dick?” You teased him.
Mark grinned, hand gliding down his shaft with a little more pressure now. “You’re not taking this seriously at all.”
“Oh I am,” you teased, now shifting on your bed, legs crossing slowly as you propped your chin on your palm. “I just didn’t know my boyfriend turned into a cam boy when he gets horny and bored.”
“Only for you,” he said, voice a breath. He gave himself a firm stroke, hips twitching slightly. “So go ahead. Keep playing. But you’re gonna break before I do.”
You bit your lip. “Yeah? Am I? You're the one that whipped your dick out.”
Mark continued to watch the screen, trying to make eye contact with you but it was a little hard with the awkward positioning of the camera. He ran his thumb over the head of his cock with a low grunt, eyes fluttering for half a second before he locked on again. “Bet you’re already getting wet, huh?”
Your thighs squeezed together on reflex and Mark knew right away, a small smirk coming to his face.
“Oh, that’s how it is,” you muttered, reaching over to grab something off-screen. “Check this out.” You said with a grin as you showed Mark a plush dick that Mark for sure would be asking where you got later.
Mark paused, laughing for a moment then groaned, dragging his hand slow and firm up his shaft again. “Keep pushing me, babe. See what happens when I visit tomorrow and recreate this entire call.. minus your dumbass props with you face-down, hands tied.”
Your grip on the fake dick began to loosen, and your screen went quiet as you continued to just watch Mark.
Mark’s smirk had vanished and he looked like he was focusing more. His cock still thick in his grip, his knuckles white, breath shallow. His whole body was brimming with restraint. “You really want to keep being cute?” he asked through gritted teeth.
You opened your mouth to respond, but Mark cut you off.
“No. Shut up.”
Oh. That flipped some switch in you so fast your brain had to play catch-up. “Wh-”
“I’ve been patient.” He adjusted the webcam slightly with one hand, angling it just enough so you got the full view, his flushed chest, his toned chest twitching with every deep breath, the head of his cock slick and gleaming, heavy in his palm. “You’ve been playing, but guess what?” He questioned. “You logged into my call, sweetheart.”
You sucked in a sharp breath.
“Clothes off. Now. Or I swear to God I’ll fly to your window and fuck you through the wall.”
Your whole body jolted in surprise. Where was this dominate Mark? “Mark-”
“I said,” he warned. “clothes. Off.”
It was like your shirt combusted off your body. Your hands scrambled to tug it over your head, and you couldn’t even remember when your legs had spread wide for him on the bed, knees drawn up, skin flushed as your breath hitched louder through your mic.
“God damn,” he muttered, gaze sharp on you in through the screen. “Touch yourself for me.”
You barely got your fingers between your thighs before he groaned and leaned into the camera. “Show me. Let me see how wet you are for me.”
You did, of course you did for him. Your other hand trembled as you spread yourself open, breath catching as you heard his - shaky, quickening. His fist was moving faster now, the sound unmistakable, you heard it plenty before. You both stared, eyes locked through the screen like touch was a real thing, like he could feel every slick stroke of your fingers on his own skin.
“Faster, baby,” he whispered. “I wanna watch you cum before I do. Don’t make me count down.”
“Mark.. fuck-!”
“Good girl,” he gasped. “Just like that, keep-”
SLAM.
A door slammed open off-screen.
“Mark? You're not going to believe it, they are having a rave on ca- OH MY GOD.”
Everything exploded.
Mark yelped, lunged out of frame, and his hand SMACKED the laptop shut so hard it echoed through your speakers like a gunshot.
Then: a series of thuds, a crash, something fell, a voice shrieked, and in the midst of it all-
“GET OUT!! WILLIAM, GET OUT!!”
Your screen went black.
There was only your reflection, naked. On cam with the distinct sound of secondhand embarrassment echoing.
You stared. Blinked and then laughed so hard that you nearly fell off the bed.