Page 11 of Learn Your Limits

Chapter eleven

Reid

As hesitant as I was to set up an account on this app, I’m glad I did.

I don’t know how Milo and I have managed to be within each other's orbit this entire time but somehow have never collided until now. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him around campus.

Then again, when I’m not in class, I’m either with Wes and Matt or have my nose buried in my sketchbook.

Not that I have the intention of ever doing anything with the art that I create.

There are a few of my designs that I’d love to get as tattoos, but then I’d have to be willing to let the world see them.

And here I was teasing Milo about never learning to share, yet I’m the one with a passion I’d prefer to keep to myself.

Not because I fear judgement, but because I don’t need something else in my life that can be taken away.

Continue your moaning now.

Damn, I did sorta moan, didn’t I? Whatever. You can’t dangle my favorite burger joint in my face and expect me not to be salivating over it.

“Moaning isn’t something I can do on command,” I tell him with a gentle laugh.

My heart feels like it’s hammering in my chest at the sound of Milo’s voice.

The slight accent occasionally attached to his words has heat rising to my cheeks and my cock thickening behind the fabric of my boxer briefs.

Especially when it’s in combination with him telling me to “be a good boy” or saying shit like he could get used to spoiling me and telling me to continue moaning.

And don’t even get me started on the way my stomach flips like I’m on a rollercoaster when he calls me Muneco. Excitement, lust, and a strange sensation I’ve never felt before buzz beneath my skin every damn time.

“Oh, we’ll see about that, Muneco. We’re getting the food now, and then you can moan as much as you’d like into the phone while you stuff yourself full.”

“Fuck. I didn’t realize eating could be so sexual,” I rasp.

What the hell is this guy doing to me?

I’m half tempted to ask him to stay and hang out with me instead of having his driver drop off food, but I don’t think we’re there yet.

Not to mention, I know he just finished working an insanely long day and probably plans on going home and going to bed.

While I’ll likely be up for hours, playing this conversation on a loop in my mind and overanalyzing every little thing we said to each other.

There’s no way I’m going to be able to keep this an innocent conversation if he keeps saying things that immediately send my mind into the gutter.

“How do you plan on spending the rest of your night?” I ask him, trying to steer my mind away from the lascivious thoughts and images he seems to provoke.

“With two double cheeseburgers and animal style fries. Maybe a chocolate milkshake. I’ve worked up quite the appetite, and I feel like being bad tonight,” Milo replies, and I can hear a car door opening in the background.

“It’s not bad if you find a way to work it off afterwards,” I tease.

“I’m sure you can help with that,” Milo begins. “Fred, you are a godsend, please enjoy your food and tell my friend I say hello,” he directs at the driver.

“Do you wanna let me go now that you’re home?” When he asked if he could call me through the app, it seemed like he was just looking for some company for the drive. I’m not ready to hang up just yet, but I know he’s exhausted. “I know you’ve had a long day. I wouldn’t wanna keep you up too late.”

“I’m going to settle in while your food gets to you. Cal, I might have been teasing you about the moaning, but I would enjoy it if we were to eat this meal together. You can count it as our first date, if you’d like,” he says.

My heart jolts in my chest at his mention of a date, and the foreign sensation of butterflies taking flight fills my stomach.

“I can’t believe we’ve been talking for this long,” I rasp, fighting back the urge to close my eyes.

I’m surprised Milo hasn’t passed out on me yet, though he did mention making another cup of coffee a while ago.

I’ve never had a conversation last this long.

I’ve never wanted a conversation to last this long.

I’m just thankful that among everything else we talked about, I did manage to ask about the pronunciation of his name. I felt weird asking, but I was avoiding saying it because I didn’t want to get it wrong.

“You’re too tempting to let go, but my bed is calling to me. I’m an old man up way past his bedtime, Cal,” Milo says through a yawn into the phone.

“I hate to be the one to tell you this,” I say slowly, my words practically jumbled together with the need for sleep pressing in.

“But thanks to how long we’ve been on the phone, tomorrow is officially the last day before the semester starts.

We’ve been talking for”—I pull my phone away from my ear to check the time—“three hours. I’m honestly kinda surprised you’re still able to pull an all-nighter at your age,” I tease.

I can’t remember the last time I was this comfortable with someone.

Every aspect of our conversation has been more than I could’ve anticipated, never once settling into an awkward silence.

“I’m taking note to show you a proper all-nighter sometime soon, you brat. Then you may speak to me about stamina,” Milo responds.

“I guess you’ll just have to prove it to me,” I chuckle, heat zapping through me at him calling me a brat.

Why do I like that so much?

Another thirty minutes of flirtatious teasing passes before we finally call it a night, both desperate to keep talking but ultimately giving in to the need for sleep. It doesn’t take long for me to drift off, and when I do, it’s to visions of being curled up in bed with Milo.

I wake with a groan and find my hand wrapped around my hard cock, arousal pooled at the tip.

Last night was the first time I’ve ever allowed myself to truly fantasize about what it would be like to be with another man, and each scenario my mind produced was hotter than the one before it.

Milo definitely has more of a dominant personality, of that much I’m sure, though for as long as we were on the phone, our conversation never turned strictly sexual.

The idea of mutual masturbation, as he put it, remained in the back of my mind while we talked, but I didn’t know how to steer the conversation in that direction.

I’ve never been very vocal in bed, and I’ve only ever been with women.

I’m not sure I even know what dirty talk with another man would look like.

If I’ve learned anything about Milo, it’s that he’s just as patient as he is kind.

He’s been nothing but understanding, and I get the feeling that avoiding any kind of phone sex was out of respect for me and my inexperience.

Still, he found plenty of ways to work in remarks about me being a good boy.

Thinking of the way the term of endearment Muneco rolls off his tongue has me tightening my grip around my cock, stroking my hand up and down my length as I use the other to grab my phone.

I clumsily swipe across the screen to open the app and message Milo.

I’m tempted to send him proof of exactly what he does to me.

CallMeCal: I woke up thinking about you...

I swipe through all of the photos we exchanged last night before settling on the one of him shirtless and lying in bed, his pajama pants slung low on his hips.

I gaze at it for a moment, my eyes following the slight V line of his abs and the path of dark hair that trails beneath the waistband of his pants.

The outline of his dick is visible through the fabric, and my grip tightens as I swirl my thumb over the crown, giving it a squeeze and bringing more pre-cum to the surface.

Rubbing the palm of my hand over the head of my cock, I gather the lubrication and quicken my pace.

I want to know what it’s like to be embraced, kissed, and touched by him.

I’m dying to know how it feels to have a man’s hands—his hands—explore my body.

How much different will his hand feel from my own?

Are his hands soft or rough? What will the stubble on his jaw feel like against my bare skin?

Will he be gentle or ravenous when we kiss?

My phone vibrates in my hand as a message from Milo comes in, momentarily blocking my view of his photo.

JustMilo: And what will you do about that?

His words spur me on, my orgasm already rising to the surface.

A deep groan slips from my chest, and I stop it by holding my breath.

The lack of oxygen only intensifies the need for release.

I allow myself to take in a slow breath as I close out of our chat and open up my camera, swiping to the video option.

Am I really about to show him this?

I move my hand down to grip the base of my cock as I hit the record button and then resume my quick pace, intent on making myself come.

My hips thrust up into my palm as I twist my hand over the crown with every few upstrokes.

This time, I don’t hold back the heavy breaths and noises that escape my lips. I want him to hear every sound.

Just thinking about him watching me has heat spreading throughout my veins, flames dancing across my skin and pooling at the base of my spine.

I imagine that he’s beside me in bed, his body hovering over mine as he strokes me.

I think of the way his cologne might smell, of the way his lips would feel pressed against mine, and what it would be like to feel his cock in my hand. In my mouth.

“I'm gonna come. Fuck, Milo.” My stomach clenches as my orgasm rips through me, his name falling from my lips with a deep, guttural groan as cum spills from my cock and paints my bare stomach.

I end the recording and drop my head back against my pillow, chest heaving as I swipe back to the app and send the video to him.