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Kai simply told me to call him if I needed anything and that was that.
And yet, I still think he’ll one day call me and tell me he found my father or send me his address in a text message.
None of those texts appear. But my screen overflows with messages from someone else.
Sebastian.
He now has this habit of telling me all about his day and giving me a monologue with the weirdest things, even when I never reply. And when I do, it’s to tell him to go fuck himself. To which he replies that he’d rather fuck me.
The messages of this day include:
I’m meeting Nate later this week. You were practically drooling when we had dinner together, so do you want to join?
On second thought, no. I don’t want you drooling over him. It’s best if you don’t ever see him again.
Though if you insist on going, I can make him wear a mask. What do you think?
As much as I enjoy my one-sided conversation, you can at least give yes or no answers.
And before you ask, no, fuck you, leave me alone don’t count as an answer. As much as I love it when you’re Tsundere, the cold shoulder is getting tiresome.
Anyway, date tonight? Or a chase? I’m open to both as long as I get to bite and suck your tits while your tight cunt clenches around my dick.
Or your ass. It feels as good as your cunt.
And don’t even try to pretend that you don’t miss the chase as well. You’re fucking torturing us both and it’s not fun. At all.
But I’ll wait.
Now, see what you do to me and feel guilty.
He’s attached a selfie from the chin down that looks to have been taken right out of the shower.
And he’s naked. Fully.
My eyes fly open as I lean on my car. I try focusing on the droplets of water sticking to his six-pack or to the tattoos in Arabic and Japanese, but my eyes immediately stray down.
His eight-inch cock stands erect be
tween his legs. It’s big when it’s flaccid, but it’s huge when hard and ready.
The veins pop on the side and the crown is purple and swelling, leaking with precum.
Fuck.
This is really not the image I need to see in my sexually-frustrated state of mind.
“Is that Sebastian?”
I startle and shove the phone in the pocket of my jeans at Lucy’s sheepish voice. Thank God she’s a safe distance away and she couldn’t have seen me ogling a dick pic.
“Why are you talking to me?” I sound like a bitch, but I really couldn’t care less at this point.
Maybe I’m indeed a bitch.
Lucy’s mouth turns downward. “I’m just trying to make convo.”
“Well, don’t.”
