Page 8 of Maybe Yours (Love & Wine)

Me: ;)

Me: joking obviously…

I don’t know why I respond like this, only that it feels natural. We’ve had this easy banter going ever since we started chatting last night and even though I have absolutely no intention of actually sending her a dick pic, I’m not above playing around with her about it.

WineQueenFamilyTruckster: Idk…would you?

“Holy fuck,” I breathe out as my dick actually hardens beneath the covers. “Is she serious?” I don’t even know who I’m talking to or who I expect to actually answer me given I’m lying alone in bed in my otherwise empty house.

Me: you want one?

WineQueenFamilyTruckster: maybe…

Me: I thought dick pics were a turn off??

WineQueenFamilyTruckster: as a first line of communication yeah…I mean shit, buy a girl a drink first.

I burst out laughing, scrubbing a hand over my face as I actually contemplate doing this. God knows now is the right time given my dick is as hard as a rock. Sure, it could be partly due to the standard morning wood, but a part of me knows it’s also due to this easy flirty banterwine queenand I have going on.

Wine queen? Does that mean she likes wine or she works in the wine industry? Even though we both agreed to none of that bullshit small talk about jobs and stuff, I do know she lives in the area. When Jack had set this up for me, he made sure to set my match profile to a fifty mile radius, so it’s a safe bet this mystery girl lives in or around Napa.

Fuck, do I already know her?

WineQueenFamilyTruckster: hey, so I’m only joking…you don’t have to actually send me one, obviously…

Me: no, I’m just…thinking…

WineQueenFamilyTruckster: thinking…hard?

I could feel myself smiling like a motherfucker now, my dick growing impossibly harder as I type out a response.

Me: something’s hard, that’s for sure.

The conversation goes quiet. No response fromwine queenand no bubbles to signify she’s even typing. I wait a few minutes, trying to decide if I’ve maybe crossed the line with my response. I’d thought we were good, both of us enjoying this easy flirtiness we’ve fallen into, but maybe I’ve misread the situation. God knows, it’s been a long fucking time since I had to pick up a woman.

Me: hey listen, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.

WineQueenFamilyTruckster: NO! It’s cool, sorry, I just needed a minute there…

Me: a minute for?

WineQueenFamilyTruckster: wouldn’t you like to know ;)

“Fuck me,” I mumble as I give in and my hand now moves below the covers to my dick. Did she seriously just get herself off to thoughts of my hard dick? The idea of her doing that turns me on and as I start to stroke myself, I start to wonder if I should not only send her a picture, but actually ask if she wants to come over.

WineQueenFamilyTruckster: but…I gotta go, work calls.

WineQueenFamilyTruckster: you still owe me a pic btw

She signs off after that, not responding to the simple goodbye I type back in response. Throwing my phone onto the bed, I let out a long groan, kicking the covers off as I close my eyes and try to imagine my mystery match and who she might be or what she might feel like lying here in this bed with me, her hand on my dick as she works me over.

I park my car out in front of the work sheds, grabbing my coffee mug from the center console, before walking into the main building to check on the list for today.

“Morning,” I say as I head into Lauren’s office.

“Hey, Tommy,” she calls back. “Here’s today’s schedule.” She hands me a typed-up list of all the things that need to get done today. Lauren’s always been meticulous and organized and it’s one of the many things I like about working here.

“Thanks. How are you? Good?”

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