In a fluster, I jump to my feet and try to find a hiding place. I’m not ready to meet you in person, now that we’ve talked. I still want to, eventually, but not right this second.
I hesitate between the small conference room and the stairs. You’d been able to see me through the glass window in the doors either way, but I could run down the stairs to escape. As I turn to hide in the conference room, where I could huddle in the corner out of view, the fire door opens.
“Hey,” a girl’s voice calls.
I straighten with a quiet ‘eep’ and freeze. With a calming breath, I turn back and sigh with relief. Eric’s girlfriend is putting on her coat and flipping her hair out of the collar. She gives me a raised eyebrow as she buttons up.
“Eric’s taking a shower, but you can go now in if you want.”
I can’t stop myself from blushing and just nod. She looks at me with her doe-like eyes and bats her long lashes. I look away in embarrassment for a second, just to break our eye contact, and when I look back, her gaze has dropped to my bulge, well defined in my light gray jeans. She smirks and looks at me from the corner of her eye as she turns into the stairwell.
Nope. Not going there.
I slip into our hall and finally relax once I lean back and slide down my door. I don’t know what was taking you so long, but I’m glad I could get inside before you came out. Flopping on my bed, I pull the chat open and see you’ve sent me yet another snap and a few messages.
Tap to view.
‘How’s that?
Like what you see?
You did that to me.
How are you doing? Devil smile’
. . .
I see you start to type before I get a chance to check your snap and quickly glance over your messages. Now I’m confused.
‘You still there?’
‘Yeah. I went back to my room.’
‘Oh? Things escalating?’
Yeah, definitely getting more confused.
‘Need more privacy now? Devil smile’
‘I was giving my roommate and his girlfriend privacy before. Now she’s gone.’
. . .
‘Oh.
Go check my snap!’
I scroll up, tap, and my heart gets lodged in my throat. Lying on your bed you’ve taken a pic looking down your waist, into your pajama pants and thong, which you are holding open so I can see you’ve soaked your gray g-string.
My cock throbs, pushing against its restraints. From what I can tell, you didn’t just dampen them. You sprayed all over them. You must be a squirter, and while that turns me on more than anything else, what makes me nearly bust, nearly paint the inside of my pants is your roommate on her bed smirking and giving you a knowing look from the corner of her eye.
‘Two things.
First, are you a squirter? Water droplets.
Second.
Do you realize your roommate probably knows what you just did?’
. . .
‘Yes, and I doubt it.
She’s an airhead.
But even if she suspected
I know and have seen what she does.’
. . .
‘Does that turn you on? Devil smile’
Again, I’m not sure what to say.
‘Do you want it to turn me on?’
. . .
Your bitmoji disappears. For a moment I start to panic, but then I remember our chat so far. While waiting for you to return, probably with a snap, I scroll back to the beginning of our chat and read back through it, hesitating to save your snaps. I notice you’ve set infinite timers on your snaps, so you probably want me to save them, but I will ask first.
Tap to view.
I do.
You took a zoomed-in photo of your roommate’s dildo on her shelf.
I facepalm and then send a bitmoji face-palming.
Tap to view.
You zoomed in on her intimates laying on the floor.
Tap to view.
From the previous pic, you zoomed in on some wadded clothing under her bed, mostly concealing a plug-in vibrator.
‘She’s almost as horny as I am. XP’
I sigh again and realize Eric is finishing getting dressed, having come back from the showers without me noticing. He gives me a quick ‘sup’ head nod and leaves.
‘Did you take it out yet?’
My face burns. I’m glad Eric has already left.
‘Not yet.’
. . .
‘So, you need a bit more?’
That’s not. . . .
Before I can finish typing, I get a string of snaps.
Tap to view.
Tap to view.
Tap to view.
I start to sweat and take off my sweatshirt, aptly named. With the aching in my loins, I unzip my pants just so I have some breathing room. My cock quickly swells to full size, brushing against the waistband of my briefs.
Tap.
It’s nighttime and the lights are off in your room. Your roommate’s face is lit up by her phone, which she is clutching inches away. Her expression is clearly her ‘O’ face, or else she’s just really close to orgasm.
Tap.
Your roommate is sitting in the middle of her bed, with her back to the wall, her laptop in her lap, and her comforter covering her legs. Though the blanket drapes over the edge of the bed, it doesn’t reach the floor, and from there you can see a white cord running to the outlet. Her face is bright red as bites her lip and squints at the screen, possibly having a hard time keeping her eyes open.
Tap.
The photo views her from the side. She’s sitting at her desk, her head is hanging forward, her hair obscuring her face. She’s gripping the desk tightly, I can tell from her white knuckles. Her red and black checkered micro-skirt barely covers her upper thigh and the side of her ass. Her bare feet are on tiptoe to either side of her chair and you’ve circled two spots in the photo. One is a circle surrounding the space where her dildo usually rests, and the other circles an oblong space between her leg and the leg of the chair where you can just make out a glistening damp spot on the floor and a few drops of liquid falling into the puddle.
Now I’m thinking your roommate turns you on.
‘Doesn’t she turn you on? Eggplant’
‘Well, these photos do.’ I admit.
‘Is it out? Licking lips’
‘You really want me to take it out, don’t you?’
. . .
‘Yeah.
Of course.’
Of course. What was I thinking?
I take a snap of my briefs and hit ‘send’.
Opened.
. . .
. . .
. . .
Should I be concerned?
Tap to view.
Uh, oh.
Tap.
“More like this!”
I choke on my saliva and have to hold my phone down as I cough. You’ve got an unpeeled banana protruding out of your pussy, which I can’t see super well from the angle, with your thong pulled to the side and your pants held open wide like a tent. I can still see your roommate, but she’s at her desk on the back side of your pajama pant barrier.
‘Aren’t you afraid you’re going to get caught?’
‘Just makes me wetter. Smirk’
I’m going to have a heart attack when we first meet in person if it doesn’t stop while we sext.
