# probably cerena

slowly typing in his username and password, which he didn’t know how to nor did he want to save automatically, pope adjusted himself in his seat awkwardly, touching his hair and mumbling greetings he likely wouldn’t use.

it started a little before he got out of prison; he wanted connection and from good behavior, he got limited access to computers. the guards couldn’t blame him, you were a sight to look at. always in a mini skirt and cleavage showing, moving around like nobody’s business. when you started allowing private video chats, pope was the first to sign up.

you accepted the call and watched at his face lit up nervously, a flow of blood rushing to his cheeks. “hi, pope,” you smiled sweetly as usual and giggled.

he shook his head, “i said last time you can call me andrew. you can call me whatever you’d like.”

noted.

“okay, andrew. i like how eager you are to see me. have you been busy?” you asked.

he tilted his head from side to side, reluctant to answer, but being sucked in by your pretty lips and even prettier eyes. he felt shame for reaching for his zipper so early. the one time he was home alone and he knew he needed to use it wisely.

pope spoke up, a hint of sarcasm in his words, “it’s hard to be busy when you’re.. getting back to people. ever since i was released, i mean.. yeah.”

he cut himself off in fear of sounding pitiful, which was the last thing he needed you to see. he massaged his thumb against his clothed tip, feeling the denim tent under his touch.

“you’re so needy, we just started, sweetheart,” you smiled.

pope’s eyes flickered down to his leaking precum and shifted his jeans to his knees, “sorry, i just really, really missed you.”

tension in his chest rose as he caught himself holding his breath. the poor man sighed and shivered from the breeze that touched his bare stomach as he slowly lifted off his shirt and set it away. pope grabbed his laptop screen and tilted it down to show you how hard he was.

“take your pants off for me, andrew.”

he did as you said, every word, until he was stripped in his boxers with his cock exposed and hot from his touch. pope’s breath hitched as he looked at his screen every few seconds, watching you as you fingered yourself. on the edge of your bed was a toy he requested beforehand, a small black bullet vibrator he begged for you to bully your clit with.

pope whined, “wanna see you so bad. i wanna feel you,” he hissed as he spurted cum faster than he thought he would, not stopping his jerking movements. “let me buy you more toys.. only for me to see.”

just on the edge of release, you struggled to reply if he even wanted one; his tone was between demanding and desperate.

“as long as you pay for them, okay?”

he nodded and squeezed his tip with a clenched jaw, eyes bored onto his screen as he reached to split his tabs.

pope’s hand never left his cock as he transferred money over. he felt himself grow harder at the thought of boxes being delivered to you and watching you open them to use your new toys. he wanted the best quality for you; he wanted everything he sent engraved with his initial.

your hips bucked at the vibration and you spread your legs further to show him how wet you were before leaking cum on the sheets with a soft moan.

“i hate that you’re behind a screen,” he breathed out, “please?”