She's a bad girl.
I swear I didn't mean to be. I just got flirtatious and I slid down into the steamy caves of eroticism. I blame my cell phone, my picture cell phone. That damn thing will become my undoing one day. I'll get careless and start casually texting a guy and before I know it I'll be sending teasing photos of my flat stomach and toned upper thighs.
Teasing photos turn into flirtatious texting accompanied by more photos revealing greater and greater amounts of skin. I didn't mean for it to turn into a friends-with-benefits texting relationship, I was just being polite and responding to texts in the same manner in which they were received. It's not my fault really, you can't blame me.
I'm lying. I did it on purpose. I wanted a man to see my summer tan lines. I wanted someone to lust for me. I like showing people what they can't have. The summertime is the best time to take photos because the milky white skin contrasts perfectly to my golden tan. Men lust for that white skin. The knowledge that seeing cream not kissed by the sunflakes means they are looking at flesh most are not lucky enough to lay their eyes on. It's the forbidden fruit, and I'm letting them have a bite.
I like looking at pictures of other men. I enjoy seeing pictures how hard they get when they unexpectedly receive a photo of my hand grabbing my breast. When they text me back, it's usually along the lines of "God, you're a babe Dani" or "damn, you're so hot." Sometimes it's even, "I'm jealous of your man, I wish I could touch you in person." Those kinds of texts make me horny instantly. I'm a tease and I don't care who knows. Look at me all you want men, you're never going to get anything. I'm an exhibitionist in photo form only, and you'll never get to feel me for yourself.
But look, please do look! Tell me that I haunt your dreams and your daydreams. Let me be the thought that can pierce through every defense of your purity and your self-standards. Think of me. Want my body. Need my mouth around your shaft. Suffer the brush of my lips on the side of your neck. Close your eyes and let thoughts of me explode you into a glorious heaven. Feel dirty and perverted for wanting a girl who's most likely half your age. Revel in the taboo of craving barely-legal flesh.
It started off innocently enough, so he thought. But I had been planning for it to turn dirty for weeks. I texted him because he lived 1,200 miles away and asked his opinion about which swimsuit he thought looked better on me, the black bikini with tiny blue flowers on the triangle top or the brown one with polka dots. He texted back, "well the black one sounds better but since I can't see them I don't really know." Perfect, he was falling into my trap. Let the hunt begin.
I sent him two picture messages, one of me in each suit. He liked the black one better. I thought he might, it has much less fabric and it shows off my athletic body better than the brown one does. I told him I was going to tan topless. I knew I this would get his attention immediately. He responded almost instantaneously telling me he wished he could be here. My prey was within striking distance, time to move in for the kill.
"I wish you were here too" I text back. I can imagine his jaw dropping open in a mixture of surprise and longing. I'm sure that he's starting to get hard now. He's been a perfect gentleman the past few weeks, but I've been very obvious about flirting with him. I know that I've compromised his integrity. I am an engaged woman after all and he is just a boy who's had a crush on me since my freshman year of High School. I enjoy knowing that thoughts of my body are racing through his head.
He'll give in, I know it. I'm dangling his fantasy right before his nose and he can't help but to grasp it. I send him another picture. This time it's of my ass and legs -slightly spread apart- with my swimsuit bottoms on the floor beside my feet. My hand is on my hip, showcasing my thin waist and slight curves. I know that I look like a pinup girl and I love it!
He's silent for a few minutes, so I text him again, "are you ok? What do you think?" I can imagine him staring at my body, wishing the image was on his computer and not his tiny phone screen. I know he wants to study every inch of my skin. I'm getting wet just thinking about him wanting me. I'm trying to imagine how hard he is when suddenly my wish is granted. He sends me a picture of his hand grasping his cock.
I'm in a slight state of shock. He's as thick as a porn star! I've never cared about length, it's thickness that gives me the most pleasure. The half-inch gap between his thumb and his middle finger wrapped around his dick sends waves of pleasure throughout my body. Too bad my battery is almost dead. That's ok though, I'm the tease. I'm the one with the self control. Or at least, that's what I tell myself.
What a wicked, wicked girl.
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Submitted by:
danika
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