I pull up one of my contemporary novels from a couple of years ago and pick one of the racier bits.
His hand slips behind her knee and pulls her leg up over his hip. He pushes her back hard against the wall, his cock ramming deeper into her pussy. Over and over. Harder and harder. Until she’s dripping and screaming for release.
I hit send.
Immediately, regret swamps me.
I wring my fingers into knots.
Oh, Lord. That’s it.
I’ve fucked myself on this one. He’s only ever going to think of that passage when I come to mind. I should have waited longer to tell him what I do. I should’ve kept things nice and tidy. I should have gone out with him a few times first.
Now, he’s either going to want to fuck me and run, or he won’t want to fuck me even with someone else’s dick. And he’ll certainly never want to build a real relationship with me.
I return to his profile and stare at his photos.
Damn. He’s fucking gorgeous too.
Barring bad breath or diseased junk, I’d probably do him. And now I’ll never get my chance, and if I do, it’ll probably only be for the fuck’s sake and not because he actually thinks of me as someone he’d want to take home to his mom—whether she likes racy reads or not.
For real relationships, nice guys don’t want girls with dirty minds.
My hand goes to my engorged cock.
I’ve read her last email at least six times. With each read, the image of her sweet, pink pussy gets clearer and clearer in my mind. Each time, my dick jumps and wants to sink into her slippery wet slit. The taste of her is still on my tongue, even after all this time.
My dick hardens even more, and I unbutton my jeans, pulling it from its confines. I yank and squeeze and jerk it until I just about wear my fucking arm out trying to get off.
Shit. This is never going to work.
I’ve got to fuck Kelsey. Right. Now.
I tuck my shit back into my pants and tug my T-shirt down to cover the zipper that won’t go over the giant bulge. I stalk next door and raise my hand to knock. But before it connects with the wood, I pull back.
No. This isn’t the way to do this. Not if I want more than to just fuck her.
And I do.
I leave before she catches me standing at her door with a giant erection.
Once home, I sit at the computer again and let my hard-on out of his prison to get a little relief from the constriction.
Damn, girl. You’ve got some talent. That’s pretty fucking hot.
I was a little worried I’d scared you off. It’s been a lot longer between emails this time.
Not so sure I should tell her exactly what I was doing.
I had to take care of something.
Take care of something? Oh shit. Were you paddling your pickle? Milking your lizard? Polishing your torpedo?
Are we—are we sexting here?
I didn’t really mean to do that. I was just sharing some of my words.
Well, since we’re emailing and not texting, I’m not sure you can call it “sexting.”
Shit, maybe she’s not up for that kind of chat.
Sorry if it bothers you that I was so honest. Maybe I was too honest. We can talk about other things.
No. No. I appreciate honesty. And I’m fairly comfortable talking about pretty much any topic. Just don’t take anything I say as an open invitation. Understand that I can talk about stuff that would embarrass most women and some men without getting embarrassed in the least. ;)
Good. Glad you aren’t embarrassed. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. You turned me on with that, and I was just doing what men tend to do.
Ha. Yes, I suppose. And it’s all right. The whole point of writing like that is to turn on my readers, so I guess you’re my reader as much as anyone. Hmmm…I’ve had women tell me they have to get their vibrators when they read my stuff. Hearing that usually makes my fucking day. Really shouldn’t be much different if it’s a guy. Right?
Right. Now tell me about you. I want to know how you like it best.
I rub my cock, waiting in anticipation of learning more about how Kelsey likes to get fucked. Because I will fuck her. I have to.
But, she doesn’t reply.
I’ve about given up when my email notification dings.
Like? With sex? You mean you want to know what position I like or what turns me on? Wow. This went off the rails really fast.
This time, I was afraid I scared you away. Yes. What turns you on? What makes your panties wet and your pussy throb?
No. I’m not scared. I wasn’t sure if I should answer that question. But…in for a penny and all that shit, I guess—I like all kinds of fun stuff.
I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t help but step it up. Play a little.
How about having your pussy licked? You like that, don’t you?
There’s another long pause before her answer comes through.