Chapter 20

I dropped the towel and went straight to the mirror. Before snapping any pics, I wanted to check out the real state of my ass. My little hole was still bothering me a bit, but it was already way better. The marks on my cheeks were there, some kinda purple bruises—I’d gotten spanked hard by John—way less red than before. “Tomorrow it’ll be better,” I thought, twisting around to see from another angle.

I went back to the bed, turned on the lamp for some decent light, opened the camera, added a warmer filter, tweaked a few settings… and then came the hard part: picking a pose. I got settled, spread my legs, propped up the phone, and when I went to take the shot, I started laughing to myself.

“Holy shit, why the hell am I doing this?”

But I knew why. The drool dripping down there reminded me plain as day. My whole body was throbbing, and the horniness wouldn’t let up.

I took a few. One with my hand spreading everything open, another more natural. I grabbed a full-body one in the mirror, some of my tits, my ass… these exchanges always heat up, and it was better to be prepared. Taking nudes is a goddamn chore. Nothing looks good on the first try. The light never cooperates. You never know if you’re showing too much or not enough.

I sat back on the bed, picked the ones I thought looked hottest, and opened the chat with Alfred.

[Virginia]: Hey, stud!

[Alfred]: You take ‘em?

[Virginia]: Yeah, I’m sending them.

I took a deep breath, bit my lip, hesitated for just a second. Wondered if this was really a good idea. But I was already there, right? No turning back. I hit send.

My heart was pounding in my chest, hard. My hand was already between my legs, slipping around, playing with myself without even realizing. It felt good. The tension, the risk, the vulnerability. And now… the wait.

“Of course he’s gonna love it. If he doesn’t, he’s gotta be gay.” I thought, biting the corner of my mouth and laughing to myself.

[Alfred]: I see it.

“I see it?”—I thought, my face already falling. I send a pic of my pussy spread wide, legs open, and the jerk replies with “I see it”? That was it? For real?

I was about to type a polite “fuck off” when the notification for a new message popped up. A picture.

I opened it.

It was Alfred’s cock.

Pink. Like, really pink. That shade that looks like a little girl’s toy, like a plastic doll. And big. Not just big… long. It was thick and long, the kind you think twice about before dropping down hard on it.

Veiny, the skin stretched tight till it gleamed. The head was so smooth it looked polished. But that wasn’t what got me.

What really caught my eye were the balls.

Perfect. He had a big sack, pink too but a darker shade, all full, I was stunned it didn’t have a single wrinkle, it wasn’t that floppy thing, it looked like a damn pom-pom. God, how I wanted to lick it.

My pussy pulsed on its own.

[Virginia]: I’d ride it.

[Alfred]: I thought yours was gorgeous.

[Virginia]: I’m not so sure about that… you replied with zero enthusiasm.

[Alfred]: Sorry, I’ve never done this before. Didn’t wanna, I dunno, come off like an asshole.

I didn’t wanna reply. Hell, I couldn’t even. It was hard to type with one hand. And the other one was busy.

I went back to his pic. The cock still there, frozen on the screen, pink, hard, huge, almost glowing. I looked at it and my body reacted on its own. The towel was forgotten in some corner of the bed, and my hand was playing naturally, like it knew the way by heart.

My fingers touched my outer lips first, wet, hot, pulsing like they were begging. Just brushing them. It slid. Slipped easy, slick with my own arousal dripping slow, thick, making everything sticky and good. I lay on my side, spreading one leg. The sweet, hot scent of my sex was already filling the room. It was the smell of my sweaty, turned-on body, a scent I knew that always made me want more.

I slid two fingers between my lips. The texture was like wet silk, skin on skin, and I spread slow, feeling the air hit and tingle. My clit was right there, exposed, swollen, throbbing with that need that seemed alive. I touched it lightly, in small circles, just the tip of my finger.

I gasped.

The air came in sharp, my breathing picking up right away. I started rubbing firmer, eyes half-closed, locked on Alfred’s image. His cock seemed to stare back, teasing me. I ground against my hand, no rush, wanting every second to last forever.

My fingers went lower. I found the tight, hot entrance. Slid in with one finger first, feeling the muscle give slow, reluctant. Then two. The flesh inside was soft, warm, full, and it squeezed back, like it was telling my finger: “stay.”

I was moaning soft, without noticing. Bit my lip, buried my face in the pillow, and kept going. Every time I pulled my fingers out and pushed back in, my clit throbbed. I felt the heat rising from my thighs to my belly, my body twisting slow. My whole hand was soaked now.

I closed my eyes. Saw Alfred looking at me. Saw John holding my hips. Saw myself, showing off to them, wide open, no fear. My imagination started running wild to a place where both of them worked together to please me, I was right there in the middle of the wave when the phone buzzed again. A new message. And what was good got even hotter.

[Alfred]: Wanna see what I’m doing?

I didn’t even need to ask. I knew.

[Virginia]: Yeah.

The call came. Video. My heart skipped. I didn’t turn on my camera, of course. But he did. The screen lit up the room with that bluish glow. And there he was.

Alfred.

Lying down, bare smooth chest, totally feminine with his breathing already quick. The camera shook a bit, then steadied. The focus went straight to his hand. And his cock.

He was stroking slow, with that focus that had me mesmerized. His hand was small but firm, gripping at the base and sliding up slow, pulling back the foreskin to let the pink head pop out full. It was a full, steady motion, like he was dancing with his own body. The shine on his skin said it all: he’d been at it for a while. His hand glided easy, with that rhythm that showed he knew himself inside out.

I bit my lips. Propped the phone on the pillow next to me, and slipped my hand back between my thighs. I wanted to keep up.

On the screen, Alfred closed his eyes sometimes, but then looked back at the camera. At me. Like he knew I was watching it all. The head of his cock swelled with every upstroke, and his other hand squeezed his balls, like he was weighing them, holding back the cum so it wouldn’t come too soon.

“Watch…” he whispered. I almost said it out loud.

My fingers were inside me again. Me on my side, leg over the pillow, hips rocking lightly. Our breathing was all you could hear.

“You have no idea what you’re making me feel right now…” he said, voice breaking, deeper, dirty.

“Keep going,” I whispered.

My hand was drenched. The scent of my pussy filled the air, hot, humid, the kind that made you wanna lick your own finger.

On the screen, Alfred started speeding up. His hand pumped faster now, the other pressing his balls. His breathing turned to moans. Head thrown back, then eyes locked on me, like I was there, riding him.

“I’m gonna cum…” he said, through gritted teeth.

“Cum…” I murmured, fingers squeezing my clit. I was close too.

My hips moved on their own, my chest heaving, whole body tense, ready. When he groaned hard, loud, choked, I saw it. The spurt. One, two, three. It shot up his chest, landed on his belly, splashed his hand. I moaned with him. Pressing my lips, trapping the scream in the pillow. I came hard. My legs shook, my pussy clenched around my fingers, sucking, squeezing, like it wanted to hold it forever.

We went quiet. Him lying there, sweaty, breathing heavy. Me with my hand still inside, chest rising and falling, eyes still on the screen.

“Fuck…” he said.

“Yeah. Fuck.”

What the fuck!