Guest Post: JP Barnaby Shares Something Sexy

Today I have the wondrous J.P. Barnaby as my guest. She's sharing a yummy one-shot. Thank you, J.P.!
Enjoy!

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 Online

Part One: Virtually Loved

By J. P. Barnaby

The laptop shifted on the bed as his back arched against the draw of his impending orgasm. Seeing the lust in Tom’s digital eyes made Eli ache. Skype was such a beautiful thing—especially when you lived at the edge of the world. A tinny moan from the speakers warned him that his virtual lover might beat him to the promise land if he didn’t get on the ball, so to speak.
“Eli, God, I wish it were your hand on my cock,” the slightly blurred image of Tom called from thousands of miles away over the impersonal expanse of wires connecting their computers. The act was so intimate, so personal, but the medium in which they spoke turned out to be anything but. Eli thought that being able to see Tom, to hear him, would make the experience better. It only intensified Eli’s longing to touch the other man. He decided just to play along.

“I wish it were my mouth on your cock,” Eli said, his Spanish heavier and more pronounced in the heady arousal. Part of him wanted to keep his eyes open, to watch even the distorted image of Tom as he jacked off for Eli, but the tingle of his own hand was impossible to resist. He rested back against the pillows, allowing Tom a view of his naked skin from the tiny camera pointed up the length of his torso. When he closed his eyes, a faceless lover pulled Eli’s legs over muscled forearms and thrust powerful hips forward. Careful of the laptop, Eli rolled to the side and pulled a small bottle of lube from the drawer next to his bed. Using it sparingly, he drizzled the thick liquid over the toy and ran a slow finger around his tight hole. Supplementing the lube with spit, he slid one finger gingerly inside, getting himself ready. He loved the sweet stretch and burn as another finger joined the first, teasing him open.

A deep groan from the computer caught his attention and he opened his eyes. Tom was only half stroking himself, but watching Eli with great interest. Self-conscious, Eli let his fingers slip from his body, but his voyeur spoke up in an instant.

“You looked so beautiful. Please don’t stop,” he whispered and even the distance separating them couldn’t hide the desperate need from Tom’s voice. Eli turned the computer so that he couldn’t see Tom’s face, but picked up the dildo from where it had fallen on his chest. The lube stuck lightly to the soft hair on his chest and his hands shook as he pulled one knee up to his chest, the knee farthest from the camera as his favorite porn stars would do. His heart raced with the sheer decadence of fucking himself on camera even before the tip breeched his opening.

The harsh moan came from his own lips as his body opened to accommodate the thick toy. He imagined the way the transparent phallus would look if he could see it splitting him open. The lube caused the flared tip of the dildo to slide in his fingers as he drove it deeper and felt every inch filling him. A bead of sweat trickled from his temple as Eli started a slow, deliberate rhythm, fucking himself with hard, even strokes. A small sigh escaped each time it slid home and rubbed against that sweet spot inside him.

Undulating between the fake cock in his ass and the tight grip of his fist, Eli lost himself as he spread his legs wider and drove his hips off the bed. A tingle of excitement shot through his spine and he remembered the camera. Someone watched him as he lay spread, wanton across his bed, fucking himself with abandon. Opening his eyes, he looked right into the camera, incidentally seeing the motion of Tom’s hand. He bit his lip as the feeling rose up in his groin. For what felt like hours, but could only have been a few minutes, Eli teetered on the edge of one of the best orgasms of his life. He loved that he could excite and entice a man in another part of the world by getting off for him.

The power rush made him dizzy and he fell back against the bed as he came in long hot bursts over his tanned stomach with a succession of short quiet cries. Dimly in the background, he heard Tom groan and knew that the other man reached his peak as well. Breathing heavily, he closed the laptop and disconnected the Skype session.

He’d apologize later, but in that moment, Eli felt incredibly alone.

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Award winning romance novelist, J. P. Barnaby has penned over a dozen books including the Forbidden Room series, the Little Boy Lost series, and Aaron. As a bisexual woman, J.P. is a proud member of the GLBT community both online and in her small town on the outskirts of Chicago. A member of Mensa, she is described as brilliant but troubled, sweet but introverted, and talented but deviant. She spends her days writing software and her nights writing erotica, which is, of course, far more interesting. The spare time that she carves out between her career and her novels is spent reading about the concept of love, which, like some of her characters, she has never quite figured out for herself.

Web site: http://www.JPBarnaby.com

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