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Wyatt: Tell me how it feels.
A whine gets stuck in my throat while I fumble the phone, my typing getting sloppy as I keep rolling my tingling nipples beneath my palm to feel the tiny electric jolts it sends to my core. I wish he was here, laying next to me so I could smell him, feel his smile against my skin.
My stomach flips when he sends another recorded text.
“Fuck, baby. Can’t even type straight, huh? You’re so sexy.” His voice is a hoarse growl over the faint slap of skin. He’s jerking himself off harder. “Show me.”
My heart thuds as I rub my thighs together to alleviate the tight coil of tension he’s worked me into.
Thea: What?
His response is immediate.
Wyatt: Show me how I’m touching you, baby. I need to see you. Take a pic to prove you’re being good and doing what I’m saying.
I sink my teeth into my lip. Can I do that?
This all feels so good, way better than I’ve ever made myself feel when I’ve touched myself beneath the sheets in the dark. I don’t just mean physically, either. Talking to him was scary at first, but it’s getting easier once it’s clear he isn’t waiting to laugh at me.
It’s like he sees me, the real me from my secret folder.
My confidence rises and I take a picture of my tits squeezed between my arms, one hand pinching a nipple as my lips part on a gasp. The material of my romper bunches around my waist and the flush in my cheeks is visible.
After I send it, he replies with a recorded text that’s a long groan. It takes another minute for
him to respond.
Wyatt: Good girl. So good. Now, slide those fingers between those lips and suck them real good.
Thea: Like this? [Photo attachment]
My lips are wrapped around two fingers to the second knuckle, puckered and plump. The way I angled the photo, I left more of my bare tits in the frame than my face and the dirty result drives my confidence higher. I like how wanton I appear.
Wyatt: Holy fuck. Yes, like that. Fuck.
Thea: What next? Tell me how to make myself feel good for you.
Wyatt: Mm yeah, that’s good, baby. You’re killing me, you sexy as fuck little minx. Need those lips on my cock.
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.”
