The mental image pulls another gasp from me. I push my fingers back into my mouth, imagining they’re bigger and take another photo for him. This time when he replies, I get a dick pic, seeing proof of the effect I have on him. It’s shiny, like he spit in his palm or keeps a bottle of lube handy. Pleasure coils deep in my chest because I did that to him, made him hard, made him masturbate to thoughts of being with me. I bite my lip around the shy smile curving my mouth.
Thea: So hot. You going to put it in me?
For a second, I squirm through a frisson of embarrassment. Is that good enough dirty talk? Should I have said cock or something?
The momentary worry disappears when his response comes through.
Wyatt: Fuck yes. So hard for you. Going to fuck your brains out, sweetness. Your fingers nice and wet? They’re my tongue. Touch your clit, nice long strokes so you know exactly how I’m tasting you.
My chest caves with my sharp breath. I follow his directions, wriggling out of my romper and kicking the soft material from my ankles. I lay there for a moment, feeling the cool air of my bedroom on my nude body. The throbbing between my thighs is so heady that I don’t think I’ll last long once I start rubbing my clit. I’m ready to burst from the oversensitivity he’s caused with our sexting.
Dragging my fingertips down my belly and stroking my mound, I let every sensation wash over me. My head tips back when I slide my fingers between my legs and do as Wyatt said, imagining his tongue licking my pussy. Shit, it feels amazing.
I spread my legs wider, getting into it. I’ve never done it like this, above my covers, the lights on, with total abandon. The world could explode around me, but my focus would only be on my body, on the pleasure I feel touching myself while pretending it’s him.
Growing bolder, I bring my phone close and hold down the record audio button, capturing the breathy moans as I rub my clit.
“Wyatt,” I whimper. “Feels so good. I’m close.”
My thumb slips off the button and I pause long enough to send it before refocusing on what my body demands. The pleasure crests higher. My hips rock as I seek out my orgasm.
Wyatt hasn’t said anything for a few minutes, but my brain is so clouded with the fog of touching myself that it takes me a while to notice. Maybe he was close and feels the same as I do, needing to reach oblivion.
The phone pings again, so I could be wrong. Who cares, as long as I keep feeling like this. I press harder, rubbing my fingers in a tight circle over my sensitive clit.
Wyatt: I want more of those sinful sounds you’re making. Show me how good it feels, baby. Is your sweet pussy wet for me?
I don’t know if it’s because I’m so close to coming that I could be convinced of anything, or that I’m flying high on the way this has all unfolded, but I don’t feel any shame or nerves anymore. Raising the phone with a wicked little grin, I get a good angle from above of my fingers dipped between my legs, knees drawn together. Just as I fire it off, the hot coil in my core intensifies.
“Ah!”
I drop my head back into the pillows while I stroke my fingers over my folds to gather some of the slickness coating my labia and thighs, gliding my fingers back over my clit. The waves crash over me, the intensity of the orgasm making me clench on the emptiness I wish were full of Wyatt’s dick right now as I tremble. It feels incredible, definitely the best orgasm I’ve ever experienced.
Elation spirals through me, mingling with the aftershocks of pleasure skating over my skin, and I smile at the ceiling, stretching my arms overhead.
The abandoned phone buzzes on the bedspread with a new message. I roll onto my side and rub my thighs together lazily as I reach for it, enjoying the lasting effects of sensitivity and how wet I feel.
I nearly drop the phone with a surprised yelp. Wyatt upped the ante again with a Boomerang. The animated image plays when I open it and my mouth drops open as it repeats. Oh my god. I watch it four times, fascinated and turned on.
In the Boomerang clip he fists his cock with fast strokes and at the last couple of seconds before it starts over, come spills over his fingers.
Wyatt: Thanks babe [wink emoji]
I debate what to say next. Is there something universal that says thanks for the orgasm via text message? And can we set up a time to do it again?
Boldly, I lounge naked instead of getting up to get dressed as fast as possible. The confidence lingers. I roll onto my back and cross one leg over the other, hoping he’ll say something first since he seems to be well-versed in this sort of thing.
My face lights up when he does reply shortly after the last of the afterglow fades.
Wyatt: Let me see how you look after you’ve come.
After everything we did tonight, this one feels easy now. I fluff my hair and recline against my pillows, tilting my face for a cute picture. There’s a glow of life in my flushed cheeks and my sparkling eyes. It’s one of the very rare times I like how I look in a photo on the first take.
Thea: Goodnight [heart emoji] [Photo attachment]
“Thea!”
A knock at my door makes my heart skip about eighty beats. My life force threatens to leave my body. I can feel the pull for it to float out of my mouth and drift through my ceiling. Poetic that I’d die young, sated, and totally freaking naked.
Mom jiggles the handle and knocks again. “Why is your door locked?”
“One sec, Mom! I’m changing for bed.”
I shove my phone under my pillow and kick my romper under the bed. After hurrying into a pair of pink flannel sleep pants and a loose t-shirt sitting on my hamper, I check the mirror and hope she can’t tell.
Unlocking the door, I peek through the crack. “Did you need anything?”
“Just wanted to make sure you remembered to study for your math test.”
Mom crosses her arms, scrutinizing me in that silent motherly way that feels as if she’s eating me alive. I shift on my feet, keeping my expression blank by sheer force of will. Project calmness and she won’t demand to come inspect the room. Her gaze flicks over my shoulder, peering into what little I allow her to see of my room with me blocking the door.
“Of course I studied for it. I’m all done for the night,” I assure her. Crap, is my voice still a little breathy? I clear my throat. “Anyway, goodnight.”
I give her a kiss on the cheek and scurry back into my room, diving beneath the covers. A giggle bubbles up in my chest and I hide it in my stuffed sea lion when I fish him out.
Tonight was amazing.
Four
Connor
I’m either still lightheaded from smoking weed and jerking off, or going batshit fucking crazy because the photo my hot little mystery texter sent looks way too familiar. She’s leaning back against a pile of purple pillows that are frilly, or some other girly shit, with auburn curls spilling around her beautiful face. The look she’s giving me is…fuck, it makes me want to get off with her again.
Something about her prods at me as I languor in my post-orgasm haze with one arm tucked behind my head, feeling really damn good.
“Wait.”