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I wait as the little gray dots float, thinking about her pretty fingers touching the screen.
Drew: Rough day?
Me: Not so bad. Spent it working on an old car. Fix up for one of Dag’s friends.
Drew: Dagwood smelled like a distillery in church.
Me: He was throwing them back last night.
Another pause of dots.
Drew: You went out last night? I’m not going to lie and say I’m not hurt.
Me: Don’t be. I wanted to be with you.
Drew: You missed my butt?
My breath is shallow. How can a simple question make me feel so good?
Me: I’m more of a breast man.
Drew: Oh. My breasts aren’t very big. (sad emoji)
Me: Your breasts are perfect handfuls.
Drew: Perfect for you?
Me: Yes.
She has no idea.
Drew: Can you still feel them?
Me: Yes.
Drew: I can still feel your hands on them. I can still feel your tongue touching me.
The fly of my pants tightens. I can still taste her on my tongue. Shit, I’m getting a semi just texting with her.
Me: Are you getting ready for bed?
Drew: Yes, but I need some help. I’m lying on my stomach with my back arched. My ass is bare and lifted, and I need you behind me… pushing inside, deep.
My mouth goes dry. I can see what she’s describing in my mind, and it focuses my brain. I want her.
Now.
A quick glance out the window tells me the sun has set. It’s dark. Quiet.
Drew: Gray?
Me: I’ll help you with that. I’m trying to figure out how.
Drew: Come over. I’m waiting for you.
Me: But your dad.
Drew: Please come. I need you.
