Rhett
Alex: Hey stranger.
I roll over in my bed and yawn, eyes squinting at the brightness of the phone against the dark as it buzzes, her text an unexpected surprise.
To be honest, I’ve been waiting all day for a message from her; when it didn’t come, I felt a stab of disappointment. Climbed into bed and tried to forget about it. Jerked off once to some dirty pictures on online.
Me: Hello back. What are you doing?
Alex: Catching up on some homework. You?
Me: Lying here, deleting some of the pictures and GIFS chicks have been sending me the last two weeks to clean up my storage space. There are a ton.
Alex: Oh Lord, I can’t even imagine. What’s the craziest thing a girl has texted you this past week?
Me: You don’t want to know, trust me.
Alex: I DO I DO I DO!!! SHOW ME! PLEASE!
Me: Hold up. Give me a second and I’ll show you.
I grin as I hold the phone above my head, pressing the side and home button. I take screenshots of the last three pictures in my gallery.
Alex: What’s taking you so long? Now I’m getting scared—do I want to see these?
Me: Probably not, but if I have to see it, YOU have to see it. Please hold while I continue screenshotting for your viewing pleasure.
Alex: Oh God. I’m scared. Hold me.
Me: You should be. It’s horrifying. I mean, it’s naked chicks, so it’s not really a hardship, but you get what I’m saying.
I screenshot texts from three girls who sent me very pornographic pictures of their tits, their waxed pussies, bodies the likes of which I will probably never see naked in person.
I screenshot their promises of rim jobs. Heather’s text bragging of her talents in bed, her pledge to get me off in various creative ways, to handcuff me to the bed and break my cherry.
Attach the photos to Alex’s message. Add a few comments.
Hit send.
Watch for the delivery.
Her reply comes within seconds.
Alex: DAMMIT RHETT, MY EYES!!! WHY WOULD YOU SEND THOSE?
Me: LOL, you asked!
Alex: You know that’s not what I meant. I didn’t ask to see BOOBS, and…and other things! WHAT KIND OF GIRL SENDS THOSE?
Me: Dude! You told me to give you the craziest shit girls have been texting me!!! Those three chicks are the craziest! Tits and ass.
Alex: Wait, ass?
Me: Yes!
Alex: Um…
Me: You wanna see those pictures, too?
Alex: GOD NO!!! Don’t you dare send me pictures of some girl’s butt. No.
Me: LOL. Sorry.
Alex: Obviously you haven’t deleted any of the boob shots.
Me: Obviously not. That’s what I’m doing right now, remember?
Alex: Guys are so gross.
Me: How am I gross because I haven’t deleted a few naked selfies girls sent to a random stranger? What’s up with the double standard? Come on Alex, you seem cooler than that.
Alex: Well what are you doing with them still on your phone?
Me: What do you think I’m doing with them? LOL.
Alex: Oh my God. I don’t even want to know.
Me: I don’t sit and jack off to them if that’s what you’re getting at.
Alex: Have you shown your friends?
Me: Obviously. Those girls have great bodies with some really great…boobs.
Alex: Do you want me to send you pictures of MY boobs?
I pause, hesitating to reply. Do I want to see her boobs?
My twitching dick certainly does.
I have no idea who this chick is, but I’d really prefer she didn’t stoop to the same level as the girls who texted me have stooped. Don’t want her to cheapen herself for the sake of getting some guy’s attention, even if it is mine.
However, that doesn’t stop me from asking, Do you WANT to send me a picture of your boobs?
Alex: LOL no, but I will tell you this: they’re better than those. Mine are bigger. Round. Perky.
Shit.
I try to visualize what her tits might look like—pale and plump, maybe, in the palms of my callused hands. I’d run them down her smooth skin.
I swallow, the stirring of an erection in my pants a burgeoning distraction as I tap out a reply.
Me: Guess I’ll have to take your word for it.
Alex: I have to say, you’re one of the toughest guys to flirt with. Why is that?
Me: Because I don’t know you. I have to trust you first, I guess.
Alex: Do you have to trust me to sext me?
I stare down at my cell, at the word sex wrapped in the promise of erotic messaging. Try not to imagine a soft hand that doesn’t belong to me wrapped about my hard dick.
I squeeze my eyes shut, take a few deep breaths.
My phone pings again.
Alex: Have you heard of sexting, Rhett? Have you done it?
Me: Of course I’ve heard of it. I don’t live under a fucking rock.
Alex: But have you DONE it?
I don’t reply; I’m not going to admit to some stranger that I’ve never sexted—a stranger that knows what my face looks like yet still insists on flirting.
I could have passed her a hundred times on campus this week and never known it was her. It’s a vulnerable place to be when I’m already feeling beaten down.
Alex: Have you?
Me: No.
There’s a silence following that denial, as if we’ve both grown embarrassed and aren’t sure how to follow it up.
I watch the three gray dots on the bottom of my cell screen appear and disappear several times as she types. Deletes. Types. Deletes. Changes her mind then starts again.
I watch those dots—watch them hard when they reappear.
Alex: Are you in bed?
Me: Yes. Lying in the dark.
Alex: I just turned my light off and climbed under the covers.
Oh shit.
Alex: What does your bed look like?
Me: It’s a queen. Blue quilt and pillows, green sheets. Yours?
Alex: Everything is white, including my pale skin, from my head down to my toes. Toenails are a pretty shade of apple green, in case you were interested.
Me: Alex, are you trying to…sext me?
I hold my breath, lying still as stone on my bed. Everything is stiff, including my cock. It’s rock hard, pitching a tent inside my boxer briefs, uncomfortably straining against the black fabric.
I’m dying to touch it. Stroke it. Relieve it.
Alex: Don’t you want to?
Do I want to sext?
Me: Is this some kind of pity fuck? I know you’ve seen my picture, so you obviously know I’m not good-looking, which means you’re not attractive yourself, or you’re trying to get the ugly guy off.
Alex: I thought after our phone call the other night we kind of hit it off. Was I wrong???? Tell me I’m wrong.
Me: You’re not just jerking me around?
Alex: I promise you I’m not.
Me: You won’t even show me your boobs, yet you’re going to fuck me with words?
Alex: You’re starting to sound like a prude, and it’s making me feel loose, LOL. I’m not going to beg a guy to flirt with me.
Me: Whatever.
This erection is making me irritable. I have to get rid of it. Want to toss the phone on the bed then toss myself with the palm of my right hand.
Alex: I’m not kidding; all I have to do is step out of the house and guys fall at my feet. I could screw anyone I wanted, any time of day.
Me: Holy shit. You sound like the assholes I hang out with.
Alex: Well COME ON! Give me SOMETHING here. What warm-blooded male doesn’t want to flirt a little??? You don’t want to see my boobs any more than I want to show them to you, and you don’t want to sext. Are you gay???
Me: I’m not gay, and I NEVER said I didn’t want to see your boobs.
Alex: Fine then, are you human? Or does cold blood run through your veins?
Me: Trust me, I’m warm-blooded.
Alex: Oh yeah? How warm are you? Tell me, Rhett.
Jesus, I can’t take it anymore. Her nagging to get what she wants has me turned the fuck on. Throbbing, hot, stiff, hard—take your pick.
Me: I’m hard as a fucking rock right now.
Alex: Is it big?
Me: My cock?
Alex: Yes.
Me: Yeah, I guess.
Alex: How big?
Jesus Christ, I don’t know if I can do this. I’m from a small town in the middle of nowhere, population two thousand twenty-nine. Graduating class of two hundred thirteen. An hour and fifteen minutes to the closest supercenter.
Seconds pass before my hand leaves the touchpad of my cell and snakes down the front of my tight boxers, rubbing the hard length between my legs through the well-worn cotton.
Squeeze.
Groan.
Fuckkkkkkk.
Alex: Hello? Say something, I’m so hot right now.
Mouth falling open, I stroke myself up and down, not giving a fuck if my dick is chafing through the material. Not taking the time to lift the waistband and stroke it properly.
Alex: You’re touching yourself, aren’t you? Tell me.
Me: Yes.
Alex: Stroking it up and down?
Me: Yes.
Alex: What does it feel like?
Me: Hard. Good.
Alex: Really good?
Me: I mean—it’s my hand, so how good could it actually feel.
Even aroused, I attempt a joke.
Alex: My hands are smooth and stroking my thigh, all the way up my flat belly.
Me: Are your legs spread, Alex?
Alex: Are yours?
Me: They are now.
Me: What are your fingers doing?
Alex: They’re in the waistband of my panties.
Me: What color?
Alex: Baby blue, see-through—you can see it all through the lace.
Me: Fuck that sounds sexy.
Alex: So sexy. What color are yours?
Me: Black. Sometimes I don’t wear any.
Alex: You free ball? Isn’t that what guys call it?
Me: Yeah—how do you know that, Alex?
Alex: I have a brother. He’s a pig.
Me: Would he approve of his little sister getting off with some stranger?
Alex: Could you do me a favor and stop calling me Alex?
Me: Uh, okay.
Alex: My brother would want to beat you up.
Me: He could only try to kick my ass.
Alex: Are you a big boy?
Me: Fuck yes. All fucking over.
Jesus, is this seriously me talking right now? I’ve never said anything that sexual in my entire damn life.
Alex: God I love hearing you talk like that. You sound so sexy Rhett.
My name flashing across the screen has me digging into the elastic waistband of my underwear. Pushing down the fabric and sliding my hand inside to free my throbbing dick.
Groaning from the excruciating pain of my need, my want.
Fuck.
Lifting my hips, I push the boxers down my thighs. Toss my phone to the comforter, spit in my palm, stroke up and down.
My phone softly pings twice and I turn my head, eyes seeking the message preview on the tiny screen. I grab the phone again and with one hand, hold the phone, letting my thumb tap out a reply while the other strokes my cock.
If I close my eyes and pretend, I can almost imagine the hand is hers.
Alex: Say something Rhett, say something. Christ, I’m begging you. Please, this is making me feel so good.
Me: Jesus Alex, my balls are tight.
Alex: I’m so…hot for you.
Me: I’m gonna come.
Alex: Mmm, I can picture you touching yourself.
Me: Don’t stop talking.
Alex: Are your boxers down around your hips?
Me: Are your fingers in your pussy?
Alex: Yessssss…
Me: You alone in your apartment?
Alex: No. Someone is in the next room.
Me: Are you moaning?
Alex: Yes, I can’t help myself.
Me: Make it loud, let them hear you.
Alex: Yesss
I rest my head against the headboard, letting my one clenched fist do all the work, working up and down the base of my cock. I close my eyes and try to visualize what Alex looks like: long black hair sweeping across her bare breasts and pale skin. Big, bare breasts with dark nipples. Legs spread. Fingers playing with her clit while she thinks about me stroking myself.
With a groan, my balls tighten painfully, pleasure starting at the base of my dick and working its way to the head. As the pre-come slickens the tip, my teeth bite down on my tongue.
I hiss.
Grip the base, jerking it hard and fast. Stroke after firm stroke until I’m coming in the palm of my hand.
My hips twitch. My dick throbs. My vision blurs.
I look down at my phone in a daze.
Alex: Babe, did you come?
Babe. No one has ever called me that before.
I blush at the sight of the word, knowing she wouldn’t say it if she got a good, hard look at me.
Me: Yes. All over my stomach.
Alex: I want to see.
Me: LOL. I’m not sending you a dick pic.
Alex: Not even if I beg for it?
Me: No fucking way.
Alex: I’m so hot for you right now, please Rhett, I’m so close to coming.
Me: Sorry, still no dick pic.
Alex: Oh shit. God, just the word dick is making me come. What would you do to me if you were here?
Me: I’d get on my knees and go down on you. Lick between your legs.
Would I? Would I have a clue how to do it if I had the chance?
Alex: Oh God, yes.
Me: I’d suck you off until you came on my face.
Me: I wouldn’t even take your panties off. I’d suck right through the lace.
Alex: How hard would you give it to me?
Me: However hard you want it, baby. However hard you fucking want it…