My phone buzzed in my pocket, startling me. I looked at the message: “Send me a picture.”

I stared at the photo and felt my face grow hot. I shook my head. Jacob and I were a new thing and had only met once, but my God, there had been sparks. But a photo bunny, I am not. I don’t randomly shoot selfies and send them to other people. It’s very much not my game. And yet…

I took a picture of my feet and laughed at my own smart-ass nature. I sent the picture to Jacob and waited. Somehow a person I barely knew was occupying a lot of my mental time. Even doing the dishes had become an exercise in concentration, and I tried to refocus my attention. I tried to put him out of my head and grabbed a sponge.

My phone went off again as my hands were submerged in hot, soapy water, and I was once again promising myself that next paycheck I’d break down and buy a dishwasher.

I dried my hands and checked the screen: “Funny. Now send me a *real* picture. Show me something sexy, sexy.”

I snorted laughter, but my heart was pounding. In the past any requests like that were met with a “no, not my thing,” but with Jacob, it was different. Something was very different, because just the fact that he’d asked had my pulse echoing in my ears.

I angled my phone and took a shot of my calf, flexed, accentuated by an oh-so-sexy flip flop. But hey, for me, that was racy. I hit “send” before I could reconsider and plunged my hands back into the warm water just to have something to occupy myself while I waited for his reply.

My phone jangled, and I jumped, laughing at myself.

“Nice. Now go higher,” read his message.

This wasn’t me. Not the normal me. Sending body shots to a man, even if I knew damn well I wanted to fuck him. I stared at the little black words in the tiny white box and muttered, “Fuck it.”

Angling the camera wasn’t easy, and when I shifted I noticed how wet my pussy was. Under my thin cotton shorts, my cunt thumped in time with my runaway heart.

“As he pushed thick fingers into my cunt, he took a picture with his phone.”

My thighs appeared onscreen, and before I could second-guess myself, I hit “send.” I didn’t even bother with the hot water this time. I stood and waited.

“Even better. Now higher.”

I chewed my lower lip, far from oblivious that my pussy was drenched and my nipples ached. I quickly typed my own message: “What about me? Don’t I get anything?”

I waited, holding my breath and wondering how he’d respond.

The phone chimed, and I opened his text to see his thick cock in his hand. Just that, but the sight was more than enough to send me reeling.

Beneath the photo, his message read: “See what you do to me?”

I swallowed hard, chuckling a little at the fact that I’d have sworn on a stack of bibles that I’d never be doing this. This sexting thing. Not me. Yet here I was.

My fingers shook slightly as I typed: “I’m glad I do that to you.”

My phone dinged again and my pulse shot up. I felt like I’d swallowed a lightning bolt.

“Now you. Show me if you’re wet.”

I took a deep breath. Was I really going to do this? When my hands went immediately to my shorts to push them down, I realized: Yes, I was really going to do this.

My shorts puddled around my feet and then my panties. I sat on top of my clothes on the kitchen floor with my legs crossed. The image showed my sex: red, wet, and plump. Again, no room for hesitation, I took the shot and hit “send.” My heart was a wild thing in my chest.

The phone went off immediately: “Jesus, I wish I was there. I wish I was fucking you. You’re so wet and ready.”

A strange little laugh escaped me, and I typed without hesitation. “I wish you were here, too.”

There had been sparks, chemistry, full-on lust, but we’d both kind of danced around each other on that first date. But with nothing but little boxes of text between us, we didn’t dance at all.

“Leaving the office for lunch. Five minutes away from you… ”

I literally moaned when I read those words because despite my weird foray into picture-fueled pseudo sex, I wanted him. Badly. In real life.

I angled my phone and pushed two fingers inside my pussy. When the shot was right, I took it and hit “send” with the words “Come over.”

Then I waited. And waited. And waited some more. I was ready to throw my phone in the water-filled my sink when the doorbell rang.

I scrambled to my feet and pulled on my shorts, leaving my panties on the floor. It could be anyone, but the way my heart was beating out of my chest, I knew damn well who I hoped it was.

I opened the door, and he stepped inside quickly, crowding me. He grabbed my hips, pulling me in for a kiss. “You put the stupid shorts back on. Why? Why would you do that?” he asked, mouth still moving against mine.

Before I could respond, his hands were on my waistband and he was pushing my shorts down. We managed to get the door shut to avoid giving the neighborhood a show, and Jacob walked me back to the sofa. I sat down hard, and he tugged my tee up and over my head. As he whisked it off, my hair created a dark blonde cloud around my face before settling against my bare shoulders and back.

I watched him take his clothes off and realized I was still, somehow, holding my phone.

He pushed me down on the cushions and lay down on top of me. I went to drop the phone, but he nipped at my ear and whispered, “Keep it close.” A hot shiver shot through me, and I arched up to feel his hard cock nudge my clit. I wrapped my legs around him and pressed upward, so he could feel how wet I was.

“Jesus, those legs,” he said in my ear.

Jacob kissed me and pulled back to kneel between my legs. As he pushed thick fingers into my cunt, he took a picture with his phone. Mine dinged, and I looked — at the up-close image of what he was doing to me that I could only feel from the way I was positioned. My cunt gripped his fingers tighter just seeing it.

He bent and licked my clit, dragging his hot tongue slowly across the tender flesh. My hips shot up, and my eyes slammed shut. He worked me with his tongue until I hovered on the edge of coming. I vaguely heard the shutter sound of his phone taking another picture, and when my phone went off, I opened my eyes to see a vivid picture of my erect clit, wet with his spit. I gasped when his mouth closed over me again and sucked. His fingers flexed inside me, and without notice I came, a loud cry flying off my lips as I jerked my body upward, grinding my cunt against his mouth.

Then he was knocking my legs wider, settling his body between my spread thighs and pushing his cockhead against my entrance. He kissed me roughly, his lips and tongue tasting like my juices. My mind whirled with how I’d been hesitant to even send a picture to this man, and now he was sliding into me slowly, making my body crave him deeper inside.

My phone chimed, and I laughed softly at the fact that he was texting me filthy pictures while we fucked. And there it was: his thick cock driving into my wet pussy vivid on the screen. I tossed the phone onto the back sofa cushion and reached for him.

“Enough. Just fuck me. I want to feel it.”

He grinned at me and put his phone next to mine. “Okay, but one more. In a few minutes… ”

I nodded as he settled over me, his body undulating like a wave as he plunged in and out of me. I arched up to meet his thrusts, feeling his cock nudge my G-spot every time he drove inward. My toes curled around nothing; my fingertips roamed his back. He gently bit my collarbone, and I damn near came but managed to hold off. When his fingers dug into my hips, his body smashed flat against mine and I moaned against his neck.

“That noise alone is going to kill me,” Jacob said.

I shook my head, indicating I couldn’t help it, not one bit. I clenched my internal muscles around him and heard him hiss. “Fuck… ” His rhythm sped up, his pubic bone banging my clit with every thrust, and when he moaned with pleasure, I lost myself to orgasm, coming again.

He pulled free of me, and I groaned, feeling the loss of him inside me. The groan turned to a sigh as he settled back between my thighs and started to lick me again. “Don’t come,” he said, looking up from between my spread thighs. “But tell me when you might.”

I could only nod. All words lost to me by then. Every drag of his wet tongue over my sensitive clit was a lightning bolt spearing through my body. I gripped his hair in my fists, feeling demolished from every languishing flick of his tongue. My hips rocked as I tried to absorb as much pleasure as I could without climaxing.

“Stop, stop,” I whispered, tugging his hair. “I’m going to come.”

“His rhythm sped up, his pubic bone banging my clit with every thrust.”

Jacob sat back on his haunches and wiped his mouth. “Turn over,” he said.

I flipped over and let him arrange me. My body was loose. I felt boneless as he pushed and pulled me into the position he wanted. In my peripheral vision, I saw his big hand grab his phone. Now this is phone sex, I thought, and I laughed. I heard the shutter noise and then felt him pressing into me. Slowly pushing his hard cock into my cunt from behind. Inch by inch. Another shutter sound, and I shivered.

My phone jingled as I heard his phone hit the sofa. His hands gripped my hips, and he moved in and out of me with ease. My whole body was soft and relaxed except for my pussy, which gripped him tight and milked his cock.

The pictures flashed on my screen: My wet pussy, rosy red and swollen from the fucking. Then his cock, buried half-deep in me. All the things I couldn’t see facing away from him. I shut my eyes and let my phone drop as I moved back to take him.

His fingers dug into my flesh harder, stinging, and he growled. “Rub your clit. Come with me. I’m not good for much longer.”

I did as he asked, reaching beneath my body and stroking my tender clitoris as I took every inch of his cock. When he splayed one big hand across my lower back and drove into me roughly, he whispered, “Come with me. Come now.” And I had no trouble obliging him.

I climaxed as his body shuddered and bumped against mine. He folded himself over me, wrapping his arm around my waist. His cock was still inside me, even as it softened. “Have I mentioned,” he said, kissing the place between my shoulder blades, “that I love texting you?”

I could only laugh. “You’re pretty fun to text with yourself, mister.”

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