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Dreaming of You

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It had been months since Bertie had seen John. They'd skyped, sure, but not often enough. And skyping wasn't the same. It couldn't match being with him in person. Holding him tight and feeling safe with John's arms wrapped around him. Feeling his warm body next to him in bed. Being able to kiss him, to hold him, to feel the heat of John's breath on his skin.

No, skype couldn't replicate any of that.

Bertie lay in his hotel bed. Even though he'd been living at the extended stay hotel for months, it still didn't feel like home. How could it, when John wasn't there?

Bertie let himself imagine what would happen if John was there. They'd be getting ready for bed, probably. John would be doing the thing where he tried to talk while brushing his teeth. It was a little gross, maybe, but Bertie found it endearing. He found pretty much everything about John endearing. At this point, he was even missing the piles of dishes John was content to leave in the sink until it was almost overflowing.

He wondered how the dishes were piling up without him there to insist on them being done.

This wasn't making things any better. He still missed John so much it hurt. Bertie redirected his thoughts to what they'd be doing if they were in bed together. He could use the endorphin rush from an orgasm.

John would already be down to just his boxers. He'd tease Bertie for keeping his socks on, and Bertie would retaliate by taking one off and pressing cold toes against John's leg. John would concede that maybe the socks were necessary, even though he would have already turned the heat up for the night.

They'd be pressed against each other, and Bertie would feel the warmth emanating from John's skin. Bertie would kiss John. At first, the kisses would be light, but they'd soon deepen. Bertie would feel himself getting hard, would feel John's arousal against his. John's hands would gravitate to Bertie's ass.

Bertie pushed his pajama pants and boxers down slightly, unwilling to actually take them off. The hotel room was too cold, and there was no John around to turn up the thermostat in advance. He pulled his cock out and wrapped a hand around it.

Their boxers would soon be discarded. Bertie would wrap a hand around their cocks, stroking both of them together. He and John would move against each other, each movement urging each other on until it was a feedback loop of arousal.

Or, else: maybe he'd blow John. He'd tease him at first, pressing kisses to his thighs and stomach, until John was begging him to put his mouth on him. Once John was worked up, Bertie would finally wrap his lips around him. He'd let John thrust into the hot wet heat of his mouth, enjoying the feeling of John's heavy cock filling his mouth. He'd suck on the head, giving the slit extra attention with his tongue. He'd pull off to lick a stripe up the bottom of his cock, then take it back into his mouth. John would try to let him control the pace at first, but it would soon devolve into John thrusting as Bertie sucked on his cock. John's rhythm would become more intense, thrusting desperately against him as he got close to finishing. He'd look at Bertie for permission, which Bertie gladly gave. He'd give one last hard thrust before coming. Bertie would swallow the cum, letting it pulse in his mouth until it was completely done.

Or maybe John would blow him. John would leave a trail of kisses on his way down. He'd suck extra hard on some of them, leaving a mark. They would all be covered with a shirt the next morning, but Bertie would go through the day knowing that they were there. Little physical reminders of their love.

Bertie missed that. He missed being able to see the marks of John's love on his body. He stroked himself harder, remembering the ones John had left him with the night before he'd left.

Finally, John would get to Bertie's cock. He'd take it into his mouth, sucking in long, hard pulls. Bertie wouldn't be able to resist thrusting against him, and John would put a hand on Bertie's hip. Keeping him in place and steadying himself at the same time. Maybe John would pause to slick up a finger. He'd start sucking on Bertie's cock again, using his finger to rub against Bertie's perineum at first before finally slipping it into his hole. The dual stimulation would work Bertie up even more. John would speed up the pace, thrusting his finger as he sucked on Bertie's cock in long, hard pulls as Bertie grew closer and closer to coming, until finally one last hard suck pulled him over the edge. John would somehow manage to look smug at that, even with a cock in his mouth. It only made Bertie come harder.

Or maybe John would fuck him. He'd go slow at first. He'd trace one finger around Bertie's rim, teasing until Bertie begged him to just fill him already. He'd keep teasing a little longer before finally giving in, thrusting one finger in and out of Bertie's hole. The first finger was never enough to be satisfying, and John would soon add a second finger. He'd rub against Bertie's prostate, Bertie's moans urging him on. He'd spend some time working the two fingers in and out of Bertie's hole before finally adding a third. The third would be almost too much, at first. John would go slow, letting Bertie adjust, gradually increasing the pace of his fingers until finally it was fast and hard enough to drive Bertie crazy. Bertie would be so turned on at that point, he'd soon start urging John to fuck him for real. John would resist, though, waiting until he was satisfied that Bertie was loose enough before slicking up his cock. He'd line it up with Bertie's hole and push in slowly at first, giving Bertie time to adjust. Bertie would be impatient, pushing backward and taking John in. Once John was fully in, he'd start thrusting. Slowly at first, shallowly, before gradually increasing the pace. He'd wrap his hand around Bertie's cock, and the two points of contact would drive Bertie nuts. John would start moving faster too, his patience gone once he was satisfied that Bertie didn't need him to be patient anymore. John would push deeper and harder into Bertie, pushing him forward into the slick embrace of John's fist around his cock then backward and deeper onto John's cock.

Bertie would come first, and the spasms of his hole around John's cock would set John off. John would keep stroking Bertie through his orgasm as his cock pulsed into Bertie's ass.

Back in his hotel room, Bertie thrust up into his own fist, finally coming. It wasn't as satisfying as it would have been with John, but it would be enough to get him to sleep.

He cleaned himself off, then tucked himself back in and started drifting off. It would only be a few weeks until the project was over, and then he'd finally be able to see John again.

It was with that happy thought that Bertie finally fell asleep.