I’ve waited a whole week, but not a peep from Troy. I’m starting to wonder if he’s gonna be the seventh guy in a row to dump me. And in this case, it would even be more ironic because of his insistence we weren’t even dating in the first place.

Just friends. Friends with benefits. Fuck-buddies. I don’t know how many terms Troy has used to describe what we are, but not one of them was boyfriends or anything resembling a serious relationship.

After the little he explained to me about his background, I understand where he’s coming from. Sort of. I get that he has a trauma because of nobody wanting him, nobody sticking around long enough. I don’t know shit about psychology other than the occasional self-help book I read, but you don’t need to be a genius to figure that one out.

My question is if he’ll ever get past it. I’m a pretty patient guy by nature, but I need to know if we even have a shot together. If he can’t get past this fear of being rejected again, I don’t know how long I can keep doing this.

I miss him. I really, really miss him. Not just the sex, though I will readily admit my own hand is a sorry replacement for Troy, but the friendship. The relationship. Because I know despite all his protests, we were in a relationship. We still are, as far as I’m concerned. I just need to keep that little detail hidden from Troy, because he’ll freak out for sure.

I’m not ready to give up on him just yet. How can I, when my heart is fully invested? I need to figure out a way to ease him back into our thing, whatever it is. He needs to feel safe and unthreatened, which means I need to keep my mushy feelings in check.

Sex. Sex has always worked for us, right? I’m gonna do an old-fashioned booty-call, see how he responds.

Should I call him or text him? Calling is more confrontational and gives him less time to think it over. That might mean he’ll say no faster. Maybe texting is better. I could try to...entice him?

Within minutes, I have my phone’s camera set up on a mini tripod in my bedroom. I check the lighting to make sure it’s light enough to see, but not so bright it kills the sexy vibe I’m going for. Yup, this should work.

I hit record and let myself fall backward on my bed. My cock is already hard, and I squirt a little lube in my hand and stroke it slowly, reveling in the slick sensation. My balls are full and heavy after not jerking off for a whole day, and roll them in my other hand, first the left, then the right. I let my legs fall open, then pull them up so the camera will show everything.

Despite being completely used to having sex on-camera, this is a little awkward. Aside from my Fleshjack video, I haven’t done any solo videos. We have them up on the Ballsy Boys site, guys who have made jerking off into an art. Hell, we even have a guy who is so flexible he can suck his own dick. I gotta say, after watching that, I seriously considered taking up yoga.

Solo shoots are not my thing, I guess. I much prefer playing with a partner. I gotta make this one work, though, so I slowly stroke my cock and play with my balls.

“Mmmm,” I moan softly. “That feels nice. Can you tell how full my balls are? I haven’t jacked off in a day, and I’m so fucking horny…”

I rub my thumb over the head of my cock, where a drop of pre-cum has welled up.

“You know what I’m picturing right now? You, Troy. I’m picturing your golden eyes, which get so much darker when I’m fucking you. Your hair that’s all messy and disheveled after I’ve pulled you down on my cock. Your arms that are so strong when they hold me down as you fuck me with your thick cock. I’m seeing you in my mind when you get all desperate, right before you come. You get this fire in your eyes, this determination. So fucking hot.”

Every single observation is the truth, except that I’m leaving out so much at the same time. The way my stomach drops when he smiles at me. The way his hands feel when they explore my body. How sweet his lips taste, his mouth, his tongue. How happy I am when we’re in bed together, even when we’re sleeping. There’s so much I say, and yet so much I hold back.

I open my legs wider, let my left hand travel down lower, to find my hole. I push in with ease, courtesy of a lot of practice. Another soft moan escapes me as my body remembers how good it felt to have Troy breach me, fill me. God, I miss him.

With slow, deliberate actions, I drive myself to the brink, prepping my ass until it’s stretched and ready. Then I turn around on all fours, my ass toward the camera, looking over my shoulder with my trademark sultry look. “Wanna come over? I’ll be here waiting...ready for your cock.”

I edit the video slightly so it starts and ends at the exact right moment and send it to Troy without allowing myself time to reconsider. It’s a risk, sure, but above all an emotional one. One of the advantages of being a porn star is that I’m not concerned about sending videos like this. First of all, I trust Troy to not make this public, but even if he did, who cares. There are hundreds of videos of me out there, naked, fucking, doing whatever. This is mild and tame compared to what I’ve done.

Now all I can do is wait to see if my bait gets his attention.

When he hasn’t replied after fifteen minutes, my stomach sinks. Dammit, I was so sure he wouldn’t be able to resist a booty call. Now what? I’m about to put my clothes back on when the doorbell rings.

My heart jumps up, and I quickly throw on a pair of shorts. Is it Troy?

I yank the door open, and there he is, his cheeks slightly red and his hair a glorious mess. We stare at each other for a few seconds before he pushes me inside and kicks the door shut behind him.

He looks at me again as if he’s trying to find something on my face, in my eyes. I don’t know what he’s looking for, and all I can do is smile because he’s here. He took the bait, and he’s here, and hot damn, I want him.

His right hand shoots out and finds my hair. He pulls me toward him, not too gently, but I willingly let myself be dragged. One more stare, his eyes drilling into mine, and then he crushes our mouths together.

His mouth tastes salty, as if he recently ate chips, and I dig in deep, licking and sucking until I’ve explored every little bit of his mouth. I’ve missed that taste, his soft lips, that addictive tongue, his stubble chafing my skin.  

His hands slip under the waistband of my shorts, then yank them down. He cups my ass, his big hands possessively splaying my cheeks, molding, rubbing, pinching. I moan into his mouth. My little session for him has left me incredibly horny, so I really hope he came here to fuck.

His right hand dips between my cheeks into my crack and finds my hole with ease. I’m still wide open and slick with lube, so he slides right in. He hums his approval into my mouth, while still ravishing my mouth.

His left hand wriggles between us to unzip his jeans. With quick moves he drops his pants and his boxers. His wet cock rubs against mine and pleasure zings through my balls.

He breaks off the kiss, and we’re both panting. He turns me around with strong hands and pushes me down until I get the hint. I put my hands on the wall, spread my legs, and arch my back to create the perfect angle. His hand grabs my throat with just enough pressure to feel it, and then he enters me with one swift thrust.

I cry out, as much in pleasure as in shock. Somehow, I expected him to be slower, more careful, though I love it that he isn’t. He pulls out, surges back in, and another low moan falls off my lips.

He fucks me hard, raw, with big, deep thrusts that make me brace myself against the wall to provide enough counterforce. His one hand stays on my throat, the other digs into my hip, probably leaving bruises. Holy hell, he feels so good. So deep, so close.

His balls slap wet against me, and he grunts every time he pushes in. I breathe in deeply, his scent enveloping me. And then he shifts his position slightly, causing him to target my prostate head-on, and I stop thinking at all.

He fucks me relentlessly, not even stopping when I explode all over the wall, until he comes with a loud groan. It’s then I fully realize he isn’t wearing a condom, because his hot release scorching up my insides is a completely new experience.

I let my head drop to my hands with my eyes closed, crashing against the wall, no longer able to hold my weight. My breath comes out in short pants as his cum drips out of my ass.  

When I open my eyes and weakly turn around, half-hanging against the wall, it’s just in time to see him zip up. He bends over for one last wet kiss, both our faces slick with perspiration, and then he’s out the door.

This was the single hottest fuck I’ve ever had. And throughout our whole encounter, we never spoke a word.