Eat My Heart Out

I hate school nights. Since my next exam is a few days away, I decided to give myself a night off. I really shouldn’t have.

Ever since lunch, I’ve been thinking about sex. It’s ridiculous, but at the same time very understandable. It’s the first time in about a month that I’ve actually thought about how long it’s been since I’ve even touched myself, and it’s the first time I’ve noticed how un-sexual me and Frank’s relationship has been lately.

I mean, sure, a relationship shouldn’t be based purely on sex, but it sure as fuck should be included in the equation. And right now, we’ve left out a variable.

I’ve obviously been studying too hard.

I deserve a break – a reward.

But it’s a school night. Frank isn’t allowed to stay down here on a school nights, and though I’ve never been denied the option of staying in his bed, I don’t need to be. It’s too tiny. Only Frank can sleep in it. Mikey’s too tall, and I’m too wide.

That bed is ridiculous.

The rules are ridiculous. How could my parents even make a rule against our relationship? It’s as if we’re only allowed to be dating on weekends.

Are they homophobic?

Nah. I’m just freaking out and overreacting. And why? Because I’m fucking sexually frustrated!

I bet Mikey’s getting more action than me, right now. He’s probably-

I open my eyes and look up at the dark ceiling of my room.

I smirk.

Phone sex.

I quickly toss my sheets away, run across the cold room in only my boxers, tear my phone out of the charger and run back. I quickly get under the covers as I find Frank’s number.

Before I’ve even pressed the call button, I’m hard.

The waiting beeps drive me nuts. My head is slightly spinning with excitement. The promise of sex is weighing on my mind, and I have to close my eyes to get a fucking grib.

He hasn’t even agreed to it yet.

He hasn’t even picked up yet.

There’s a click.

“’Ello?” Frank’s sleepy, drowsy voice asks. I smile.

“Hi, babe,” I say, a tad less seductive than I feel like being. I shouldn’t get so carried away. He could turn me down – say it’s a school night, that he’s tired and then hang up.

“Gerard?”

“Mhm?”

“Why are you calling?” With each word, it sounds like he’s waking up more.

“Just wanted to talk to you. Hear your voice,” I say dreamily, my dick still poking through the sheets.

“Aren’t you home?”

“Yeah?”

“Then why are you calling?”
I smirk.

“Because it’s a school night.” The seduction I’ve tried to hide is now fully exposed. My own sex-voice makes me miss an inhale.

“Gerard, are you okay?” he asks, suddenly concerned and very awake. I smile at the latter and quickly answer to rid him of his concern.

“I’m hard.”
There’s a silence, but I can still hear him breathing. It’s slow, but not as slow as mine. I’m barely breathing – desperate for some action, pleasure and release.

“What?” There’s a hint of excitement in his confused voice and I subconsciously lick my lips.

“I’m rock-hard, babe. I really need you right now,” I say, my voice slightly struggled.

“But it’s a school night. We’re not allowed to-“

“Why do you think I’m calling?” I interrupt as I resist the urge to touch myself through the layers of fabric.

I want him to control me – to tell me what to do.

Again, there’s a silence in which I can still hear his breaths. But now, they’re shorter. They’re still slow, but a lot shorter.

“Phone sex?” he asks warily and shyly.
I gasp in excitement.

“Exactly,” I whisper, suddenly out of breath.
“Tell me what to do. My cock is aching,” I whine pathetically.
I hear him giggle.

“What’re you wearing?” His voice isn’t his usual sex-voice, but it is low. He’s obviously a bit reluctant to do this, perhaps feeling silly.
I’ll make him want to do this.

“Only my boxers.” I push my sheets away, even though it’s a bit chilly without them. I’m sure I’ll get warm soon.

There’s a long silence, and though it’s torturing me, I let him have it. I know he’s unsure what to do. I’ve never done this before, but I’ve imagined it all day. He’s basically just been thrown into this a few minutes ago, so he needs time to think of something to say.

“Aren’t you cold?” he asks quietly.

“A little,” I gasp.
“Will you warm me up?” I subconsciously start rubbing my lower stomach, tickling my happy trail, as I wait for him to say something.
It takes a little while before he breaks the silence.

“I really don’t know what to say, Gerard,” he says, sounding ashamed.

“It’s alright,” I say quickly and sit up to lean against the wall.
“I’ll start, then.” I cast away any thought of my own dick and focus on him.
“What’re you wearing?”

“Pyjamas?” he asks, as if it’s something to be embarrassed about.

“You in your bed?” I ask seductively, trying to make him feel wanted.

“Yeah,” he says quietly, but at least it’s not a question.

“I wish you were in mine. Right here next to me.” I close my eyes and let my imagination roll.
“I would place a hand on your chest and kiss your neck. I’d bury my nose in your hair and sniff in your scent, enjoying your little giggle.” I love his giggle. The way it seems to be coming straight from his heart.
“I’d kiss your neck again, keep my lips there and softly start sucking and nibbling.” I smile as I hear him suck in a sudden breath.
“My hand on your chest would slowly run down to your stomach, then your lower stomach.” I can actually hear him swallow, an odd, strangled clicking sound crackling in my ear.
“Are you hard, babe?”

“Yes,” he whispers, but not because he’s shy. He sounds so turned on.

“I would ghost my fingers over your clothed dick.” I hear a quiet squeak.
“I’d then run my hands up your body, underneath your shirt. I would tickle your hips, reach up to massage your nipple and then trail a finger down to your belly button.”

“Gee,” he gasps. I grin.

“You wanna give it a try?” I ask, hopeful.
There’s a short silence, only filled by our joined, short, shaking breaths.

“I want you in me. Or around me. I don’t care,” he says, whining his last word. I smile.

“Tell me what to do. I want to touch myself so bad.” I reach down and softly begin tickling my happy trail again.

“Rub yourself through your boxers,” Frank gasps, and I immediately place my palm over my clothed erection.

I moan.

“Now stop.”

I frown.

“What?” I ask confused.

“Stop touching yourself,” Frank says confidently, and I take my hand away from myself. My hips thrust up into nothing.
“Place your hand on your thigh.” I do.
“Keep it there and tell me what to do.” I quirk an eyebrow at how dominant he suddenly is. A rush of lust rushes through me.

“Put your hand inside your pants. Touch your bare dick. Stroke it slowly,” I say, hoping he’ll tell me to do the same. My dick is throbbing.

He moans.

My hips thrust.

“Can I touch?”

“No,” he says quickly. I whine.
“You can caress your inner thigh.” I start doing so.
“Trail your fingers dangerously close to your sack, but don’t touch,” I do as he says, accidentally brushing my thumb against my balls, but I don’t tell him.

He moans.

My cock jumps.

“Please, let me touch?” I beg.
He moans.

“Not yet. Just think about me touching myself.” I instantly see the image of him in his tiny bed, his hand down his pj-pants, slowly moving.
I let out a long breath and my head spins.

“Please? I need to touch,” I whine.

“I’m so close. Tell me to speed up.”

“Not until you tell me to touch.”
He moans.

“Touch,” he moans out loudly.

I do.

I press my palm against my cock to relieve myself of a bit of pressure, but it only creates more. I quickly shove down my boxers and grab myself.

“Stroke fast,” he gasps out, obviously wanting to do so himself.

I begin to stroke myself fast. The burning in my lower stomach is sudden and intense, and I moan at the pressure.

“Stroke fast and hard, babe,” I hurry to say.
“I’m so close,” I say quickly, moaning loudly after the words have escaped my mouth.

“Me too,” he whines. He’s gasping for breath at irregular intervals.

“Come with me.”

“I- I’m-“

“Come, Frankie,” I quickly moan and squeak out, before I let the pleasure take over my body and toss me over the edge. I come moaning loudly, almost not able to hear Frank’s moans at the other end of the phone.

I slow down my strokes, riding out my orgasm as long as I can as I press the hot phone against my sticky, hot cheek. I gasp for breath, hearing Frank do the same.

My head is swirling with lust still, while my body feels numb with pleasure. I love the mix. The blend of two opposite feelings creating such a raw, spent emotion in my chest that feels so good.

“Why?” he asks suddenly, completely out of breath.

“Just needed the release. I needed you.” I swallow down nothing, trying to get moisture up my dry throat.

“Thank you,” he says, now sleepily.
I laugh.

“You’re welcome,” I gasp back, still out of breath.

“I’m tired.”
I smile lazily.

“Go to sleep, babe. I love you.”

“Love you too,” he mumbles back, before the line goes dead.

I smile wider as I pull the phone away from my ear and rest my tired arm next to me. I gaze down at the phone, giggling lazily. It’s moist, almost soaked.

That was so hot.