“Erm... mostly current stuff. Whatever's on the radio, something I can bop to. :p”

Ten minutes passed before there was a response. I grew anxious. I had to advance the conversation, show I was interested. Very interested.

“You?”

“Lot of older stuff. Your dad and I could probably compare collections. Just about everything in my library is older than I am.”

“Things usually die before they get that old.”

Soft jab. Playful banter. The winky face means I'm flirting right? I really suck at this and I just... I want him to know I'm interested. Very interested.

“Things also don't make it too long past comments like that.”

“Shit,” I murmur under my breath. This guy drives me up the wall. Not a winky face or nothing. How the hell am I supposed to know how to take this? Screw it, just.... bring up what we're both here for. Hit closer to home. Besides, he messaged me first right? Of course he was interested. Maybe very interested. “So... I like your videos. I'm Andrew btw. :)”

“Pleasure. Call me DP. Dip if you like. Got a favorite?”

It was late. Well past three in the morning. Yet here I found myself, on a fetish site talking to a man who's online profile I had been stalking since I learned to touch myself. I was starstruck. I couldn't count how many times I had jerked my cock raw to the very thought of a night like this. I bit my lower lip, my foot bouncing in angst. “Umm... Probably Peyton. That little freckle on his left arch, haha, he was so hot to watch just bounce around. Remember the first time I watched it, I came on the screen.”

“Really now?”

“Yup. Landed right on his freckle too. ;)”

I was killing myself just staring at the messenger. I ran to check his profile for the umpteenth time while I waited for the little “bloop” noise. I had set my status to “busy” to ward off any other advances. Tonight was all for Dip. Fffuuck, just scrolling through his page got all eight inches of me hard. All these boys, all my age, all tied up and used by Dip. I rubbed my soles against each other as I entertained the thought that I probably wasn't a person to Dip, just a mark; a target for him to hit. As I palmed my cockhead all I knew was I wanted him to get a fucking bullseye. I gripped the base of my shaft as I heard another “bloop”, bringing me back to reality.

“You ever been tied up before?”

“Not yet. ;) Kinda why I'm here.”

“How tall are you?”

“Six foot even.”