That evening, Emily was in the bedroom looking for some clean knickers when her phone warbled unexpectedly.
– thinking of you princess –
Oh fuck. It was a text from her lover. She’d told him not to message her when her husband was likely to be home. And Justin was only next door in the bathroom.
Double fuck; the phone sang out again. Emily quickly turned it to silent, as a picture popped up on the screen. It was Andrew’s erect penis. His hand was wrapped round it, and there was a dribble of pre-cum on the knob.
– wanting to give you this –
– not now babe justin’s here – she tapped back quickly.
– fuck him show me your tits –
She could have – should have – just switched her phone off, but she did get turned on when Andrew sexted her like this.
Luckily she was braless, so all she had to do was pull up her t-shirt to expose her small conical breasts, topped with their pale nipples, and take a quick picture. As she held the phone out, centering her boobs on the screen, she heard her husband coming out of the bathroom.
Oh shit, not yet, she thought, her heart beating like a whole orchestra of percussion as she took the photo. As Justin came into the bedroom, she let her shirt drop back over her boobs, pressed send, and turned off her phone.
“Who was that, angel?” asked Justin, taking off his glasses.
“Oh, just Cathy, checking about the weekend,” she improvised, “Come on, let’s go to bed.”
Later, once Justin was safely snoring next to her, she turned on her phone again. Sure enough, there was another message. Andrew had used his work mobile to take a picture of his personal phone displaying her picture after he’d ejaculated all over it. She smiled wryly to see her worried face, covered in thick blobs of spunk.
– tomorrow you can do that for real – she texted back, then rolled over and went to sleep.
