Sweet baby Jesus.

MY JOB TAKES ME to New York City for meetings with current and prospective clients. I’m happy to get away, actually. Things with Quinn are getting a bit…intense, and some distance is just what I need to put things into perspective.

I don’t want a relationship—absolutely not. The word alone is enough to give me hives.

But…

I can’t stop thinking about Quinn, especially that last night with her.

Her sketching me. Fucking her in her studio. Waking up from my nightmare surrounded by her scent. Telling her about Anna and the baby then sinking into her body as I shared my pain with her. I woke up feeling amazing, light and happy. I caught myself whistling on my way home.

Whistling.

I’m getting attached, and that won’t do.

So here I am, at the bar in my hotel, nursing a scotch. Dim lights paint everyone in shadows, and slow, sultry music charges the atmosphere with sex—the perfect scenario to find a random hookup. A month ago, I’d already be balls deep in some willing woman.

Now?

I’m scrolling through pictures of Quinn.

Fuck. Me.

I stop resisting and text her.

Me: Hey.

Could I be any lamer? Shit. I cringe at the stupid message, wishing I could take it back, but texting does not have an unsend option, so I’m forced to sit here and see whether or not she texts back.

As I wait for Quinn’s response like a little puppy waiting for scraps of food under the dinner table, a woman slides onto the barstool next to mine. Her perfume wafts in my direction, tickling my nose with the citrusy scent. I look over, smiling politely as she orders a drink from the bartender. She’s probably mid-twenties, and from the looks of it, she’s wealthy. Her dark brown hair is glossy and perfectly coifed, makeup flawless, clothes expensive, and sparkling jewelry winks at me from her ears, neck, and wrists.

She catches me taking her in and her eyes flare with interest. She’s actually quite gorgeous.

But my dick doesn’t respond.

Nothing.

Not one twitch.

“Hey handsome,” she croons.

Who the hell says that? “Hi,” I respond tersely. My cell phone is a beacon and I can’t stop myself from checking to see if Quinn has responded.

Nothing yet.

“Waiting for someone?” she asks, eyeing my phone.

“No.” Yes, but just a text message.

“I’m Topaz.” She sticks out her hand for me to shake, looking at me expectantly.

Oh, I guess this is the part where I tell her my name. “I’m Charlie.”

“Mind if I keep you company, Charlie?” She licks her lips, gaze lowered to my mouth. Topaz is definitely down to fuck, or at least she’s giving me some signals, and still no response in my pants. My cock is soft, maybe even retreating at the thought of fucking this woman.

“Sure.” I shrug. What else am I going to do other than sit here like a pathetic fool and wait for Quinn’s text? What is she doing tonight anyway? Is she out at a bar on a Monday night hooking up with someone? We never discussed making things exclusive, so she’s free to fuck someone else.

Maybe that’s what I need to do—fuck someone else to get Quinn off my brain.

I pocket my phone, trying to force my attention away from the unanswered text. I turn to give Topaz my full attention and notice that her drink is half empty. “Can I get you another drink?”

She smiles a model-perfect smile. “A cosmo would be great, thank you.”

I signal the bartender and order another round for both of us. “So what brings you to New York?”

“Work.”

“Me too.”

“And what is it that you do?”

“I’m a photographer,” I tell her.

“Well, that’s interesting. I’m a model.”

I knew it. “So you must be sick of photographers, then.”

Her eyes travel down my form but my cock remains unaffected by this woman.

“I might like to be photographed by you,” she purrs.

Her flirting fails horribly because now all I can think about are the pictures I took of Quinn. I smile stiffly. Come on, get your head in the game. “Sorry, I’m off duty tonight.”

“Well, that’s a bummer.” She sidles up to me, placing her hand on my chest. My nose tickles again with the heavy scent of her perfume, and instead of wanting to pull those lush curves into my body, I just want her to stop touching me.

“You okay over there?” Topaz runs her hands up my chest to my neck, and I reach up to grab her wrists, preventing her from touching me anymore.

“Huh? Oh, yeah, just thinking,” I mutter.

“Do you have a girlfriend? Wife?”

“No.” The denial sounds hollow, but it’s the truth—Quinn isn’t my girlfriend.

Just then, I feel my cell vibrate in my pocket. I don’t even try to act cool. I back up, giving myself some space to reach into my pocket and bring the screen to life. My lips curve up when I see Quinn’s name.

“Excuse me, this is important,” I tell Topaz as I sit at my barstool and open up Quinn’s text.

Red: Hey hotstuff, I was just thinking about you.

Me: What were you thinking about?

Red: Well, I was scrolling through Tumblr, getting ready for my self-love session of the night, wishing someone would have sent me those pictures…

Sweet baby Jesus. I don’t know which part of that statement to focus on first. My dick stirs to life, quickly hardening in my pants as I imagine Quinn lying in bed, playing with herself as she watches porn.

Me: Let’s break that statement down and deal with it one scintillating part at a time, shall we?

Red: Did you just text the word scintillating?

Me: I did. Autocorrect helped me spell it. ;-)

Red: Me too.

Me: I want to talk about your self-love session.

Red: What’s to talk about? I like orgasms and you weren’t available to give me any, so I’m going to give myself some.

Me: And you have a Tumblr account?

Red: Yeah, don’t you? Tumblr is the best.

Me: Yes, what’s your account?

Red: You show me yours, I’ll show you mine.

Me: Pierced&Horny

Red: Ha! I might already follow you!

Me: What’s yours?

Red: I don’t know if I want to tell you.

Me: Hey, that’s not fair. I showed you mine, now you show me yours.

Red: You may find some surprises on my page.

Now I’m curious. What does she have on there that she doesn’t want me to see?

Me: I promise not to judge. I just want to see what turns your crank.

Red: A variety of things.

Me: Red…

Red: Red_Hot&Horny

Me: Ha! We’re both horny.

Red: Well, we already knew that.

Me: Give me a minute to look you up.

Without thinking, I open my Tumblr app then look around. I completely forgot about Topaz but find that at some point while I was texting Quinn, she got up and left. It’s just as well—I wasn’t into her at all. I throw some money on the bar then get up to go to my room.

Alone in the elevator, I open the app and search for Red_Hot&Horny. I find it right away and start scrolling through her posts. Does she post pictures of herself? I wonder, but I don’t see anything that resembles her. The first couple of pictures are pretty standard—a close-up of a man’s cock inside a wet pussy, a man with a woman’s hair wrapped in his fist, pulling her hair as he fucks her from behind. Nice. I tap the heart, liking her post.

I stop scrolling when I see the next one. It’s a video, but I spy three people. Curiosity burns through me. Does Quinn like the idea of a threesome? The elevator dings, notifying me that we’re on my floor. I ignore the video for a second so I can step off the elevator and find my room without running into a wall. As soon as I lock the door, I throw myself on the bed and hit play.

A brunette woman sits on a bed with her back against the headboard, her legs splayed wide open. She’s strumming her clit while staring intently at the couple fucking right in front of her. The man is really pounding a blonde chick with gigantic tits, almost reminiscent of Miss Double D. The blonde is lying on her back, boobs bouncing with every thrust. Then the man pulls out and comes all over her tits. I’m hypnotized as the brunette crawls toward them and starts licking the cum off the blonde’s skin.

My cock is rock hard.

I hit share on the post and text it to Quinn.

Me: Red. This video is very naughty.

Red: Thought you might like that one. Does the blonde remind you of anyone?

Me: Did you find this after that night with Miss Double D?

Red: Yes.

Me: Would you have liked to watch me fuck her?

Red: Is it weird if I say yes?

Me: Is it weird if I like the idea?

Red: Do you?

Me: My dick is so hard right now just thinking about it.

Red: Mmm. Did you see anything else you like on my page?

Me: I’m checking it out now. In the meantime, check these out.

I go to my private gallery and send Quinn the file with the pictures I took of her when she sucked me off. Then I go back to Tumblr and scroll down. The next picture is also of a threesome, but this time, it’s two men and one woman. One man is sitting in the corner, fully dressed, but his fly is open and he’s stroking his cock. He’s a one-man audience, watching a naked woman getting fucked from behind. The woman is staring at him, blissed out in the ecstasy of another man buried balls deep inside her.

I groan and palm my dick, desperate for some friction. In fact, why have I not taken my pants off yet? I unzip and free my cock. It’s so hard it stands straight up, pointing to the ceiling. I squeeze the base then stroke up, applying pressure on my piercing, and the sharp tug of the metal makes me hiss. I could come in two seconds, but I don’t want to. I ignore my aching erection and share this picture with Quinn, too.

Me: Fuck, Red. You’re killing me.

Red: What do you think of that…scenario?

Me: It looks hot as fuck.

Red: You like to watch, too?

Me: I don’t know, to be honest, but the thought of me sitting there, watching you get fucked, with your eyes on me…let’s just say, my cock likes that scenario a lot.

Red: I think I’d like your eyes on me.

Me: What do you think of the pictures?

Red: They’re…filthy. I look like a porn star.

Me: Nah, you’re way hotter.

 

I SCROLL THROUGH THE pictures Charlie just sent me. There are so many, and I’m the star in all of them—well, me and his magnificent penis. The first couple images show me with red lipstick smeared on my face, kissing and tonguing his cock, which is decorated with my red lipstick.

Fuck, that’s so hot.

Then I see a picture with my lips stretched wide around his shaft, his skin wet and shiny with my saliva. Looking at these pictures is hotter than looking at Tumblr, hands down. My clit throbs, reminding me that this was supposed to be a masturbation session, but I’m too focused on looking at these pictures. I need to see all of them before I can think about anything else.

Swiping across my screen to look through the next pictures, I stop when I see the one he called Debauched. The title is fitting; I do look completely debauched. This is the only one of my full face, something I had requested him not to take a picture of, but I love the picture so much, I don’t care that he took it. There’s mascara smudged under my eyes, trails of tears on my face, lips swollen with a blur of red tint remaining from the lipstick that smeared everywhere, and a trail of his cum dripping down my chin and neck.

What I notice most of all are my eyes. They’re blazing with need, desire, and pride. I had just made him come so hard and I’d loved every second of it. I had no idea I looked like this. Seeing myself so well used and so needy at the same time…it makes my skin hot.

I minimize the pictures and open my messenger to text Charlie.

Me: You took a picture of my full face.

Charlie: I know. To be fair, you had just sucked my brains out of my cock, so I wasn’t thinking clearly, and once I saw it, I couldn’t bring myself to delete it. It’s my favorite one. If you want me to delete it, I will.

Me: It’s…so dirty. I can’t stop looking at it.

Charlie: I’ve jacked off while looking at it too many times to count.

Me: Would it be weird to get myself off…looking at myself?

Charlie: Fucking hell, Red. Do it. Are you touching yourself right now?

Me: Not yet.

Charlie: Because I want to touch my cock. I’ll be lonely if you don’t join me.

Me: Can’t have that.

Charlie: Tell me how wet you are.

I split the screen on my phone so the picture of me debauched so wonderfully by Charlie is on top and the texting app is on the bottom. Then I hold the phone in my right hand and reach down with my left. I can’t remember the last time I had phone sex with someone. Wait, is this phone sex? Or sexting? Whatever it is, it makes me feel like a teenager.

I’m naked, having already shed my clothes and retrieved my vibrator for my date with Tumblr. My skin tingles in anticipation, even though it’s only my hand gliding down my waist. Charlie knows what I’m doing. He’s doing the same thing. That thought makes me burn hotter, imagining him stroking himself.

Trailing my fingers along my abdomen, through my curls, and in between my lips, I find myself soaking wet. Mmmm. My fingers slip through easily and I gather up some of my wetness to circle around my clit. Yess.

Me: I’m soaked.

Charlie: Fuck. I want to see. Send me a picture.

My eyes widen. Do I want to take a picture of myself to show him? My heart rate kicks up. Yes, I do. Instead of taking a picture of my pussy, I hold up the fingers that were just sliding through my wetness and snap a shot of them. The flash picks up the shine, showing that my fingers are indeed wet, so I send it to him.

Charlie: If I were there, I’d lick those fingers.

Me: If you were here, I’d want you to lick more than that.

Charlie: Where would you want me to start?

Me: You can start by sending me a picture of how hard you are.

Charlie: You want a dick pic? I just sent you a whole bunch of them. Not enough for you?

Me: None of those were pictures of you RIGHT NOW.

I wait, anticipating his picture. Then a box appears as the picture downloads, and the sight that greets me makes my mouth water. Charlie is lying on a bed, his pants gathered just under his crotch, his dick standing proudly at attention. It’s thick and long, with the silver metal of his piercing glinting at me. I don’t know what it is about that piercing, but I love playing with it.

Me: Very nice, hotshot. Have I told you lately how pretty your cock is?

Charlie: Pretty? Pfft. He’s NOT pretty.

Me: He’s very pretty. And that piercing…why am I so obsessed with it?

Charlie: Because it makes you feel so good.

Me: Yes, yes it does.

Charlie: I love it when you beg for my cock.

Me: I don’t beg.

Charlie: Ha! I’ve heard you beg—for my cock, for me to fuck you harder—and I love the sound of it.

While my mind is annoyed by the fact that he does reduce me to begging, my pussy likes it. My clit is pulsing in time with my heartbeat, so aroused by the visual stimulation of the pictures and the texts from Charlie. I strum it gently, just teasing myself, but seeing the picture he sent me of his cock makes my pussy feel empty. I get my vibrator and rub it gently up and down, loving the feel of the cool temperature against my hot flesh. Mmm.

Me: If only you could see me now, you might do some begging yourself.

Charlie: What are you doing? Are your fingers busy?

Me: No.

Charlie: ??

Me: It’s my vibrator.

Charlie: Fuck me. You’re using a vibrator? Is it inside you?

Me: Not yet, just getting it nice and slick.

Charlie: What color is it?

Me: Red.

Charlie: How appropriate. You’re right, I want to see it.

Me: Maybe if you say please.

Charlie: You know you want to show it to me. Don’t you want me to see you fucking yourself with your red vibrator? You’re such a dirty, dirty girl.

Me: Nice try.

Charlie: I bet it would slip right inside without a problem because you’re so wet.

I move the vibrator toward my opening and play there a moment, wanting to draw out that first stroke in. The first stroke is always the best, feeling the stretch then the fullness that follows. I inch it in, then back out, giving myself some shallow strokes.

Charlie: You must be busy over there. Is it all the way in yet? Or are you teasing yourself like I tease you?

Me: You are a tease.

Charlie: Is it all the way in? Show me.

Me: Just one inch.

Me: Now two.

Charlie: Fuck, how big is that thing? I need to see it.

Me: If you say please.

Instead of saying please, he sends me another picture, this time of his hand wrapped around his dick, mid-stroke. Holy fuck. That’s so hot. Why is it so hot when guys touch themselves? Especially Charlie. His hand is so masculine, the dim light in the room glinting off his piercing.

I slide the vibrator deeper, imagining it’s him filling me.

Me: That still isn’t please.

Charlie: Fine, PLEASE, Red. Show me that dirty pussy full of your fuck toy. I’m DYING. PLEASE.

His words make me burn hotter. I push the vibrator all the way in, sighing at how good it feels to be full. I can’t resist pumping it in and out a couple times, needing the friction. Then I sit up, point the phone at my cunt, and awkwardly try to snap a few pictures. The first two suck, not capturing the right angle to show exactly what I’m doing, so I have to spread my legs as far open as I can and tilt my pelvis up. Turning the phone a bit to the side shows exactly what I want him to see—my folds wet with arousal, the red vibrator half in, the exposed “shaft” shiny from being inside me, my pussy stretched around the girth.

Without thinking too hard about it, I share the photo with him.

Charlie: Fuuuuuck. I need you to fuck that pretty pussy. Fuck it fast and hard, because I’m about to come at the sight of you like this.

I do just that, turning the end piece to power it on. My hips buck up at the jolt of sensation and my clit pulses, almost like it’s jealous of my pussy. I slide the vibrator out of me and circle my clit with it. Direct contact is too much, but subtle swipes add to the pleasure sweeping over my body.

Did Charlie come yet? Is he fucking his hand? Is he squeezing hard? Is his hand moving so fast it’s a blur or does he stroke it slowly?

Me: I want to see you come.

Charlie: Ditto

Me: Video chat?

Charlie: Fuck yes.

I hit the button that has a video camera to turn our exchange into a video call. Then I see it. Charlie’s dick is shiny with…lube? Spit? It’s slick so his hand glides over the skin easily. He’s stroking slowly, squeezing it harder than I would ever feel comfortable squeezing. Then when he reaches the tip, he applies pressure to the piercing, almost tugging it.

“Red,” he pants, voice tight with need. “Show me. I need to see it.”

I was so preoccupied with getting my first view of him, I forgot to angle my phone the right way. I sit up and try to hold the phone over my crotch, but it’s awkward to keep this pose and work the vibrator, too. Instead, I put a pillow in front of me and prop the phone against it, right in front of my pussy, giving him the best view and freeing up both of my hands.

“Fuuuck,” he grunts, squeezing the base of his dick. “Put it inside.”

“What if I don’t want to?” I tease, sliding the vibrator up and down the outside of my sex, circling my clit when I get to the top.

“Is that how you get yourself off? You don’t put it inside?”

“No, I do, but I like to tease my clit too,” I tell him, breathless. My screen shows a smaller box in the corner with my video, and the combination of seeing Charlie tug on his cock along with me stroking my pussy amps up my arousal. I’m so close.

“Put it inside. I need to see it. Do it slowly.”

“You’re so bossy for someone who is in a different state.”

“You know you want to.”

“What’s my reward if I do?” I ask him. I do want to put it inside—my pussy’s now jealous of my clit, and my nipples are tingling. My boobs are visible on the screen as the phone is angled up a bit, and the tips are firm, erect points.

“I’ll probably come all over my hand.”

“That’s my reward?”

He chuckles, the sound deep and wicked. “You love it when I come.”

Yes, I do. He knows me so well. I position the vibrator at my entrance, circling the sensitive skin, hesitating before pushing inside.

“Yes, nice and slow,” he instructs. His hand is picking up speed, working his cock diligently now.

I go slow, but only because that’s what I want.

“Fucking hell, that’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. Look at you, you dirty girl, fucking yourself so I can watch you.”

His hips start bucking up now so he’s truly fucking his hand. Then his hand disappears for a second, abandoning his erection, leaving it to sway and twitch on its own. I hear an unexpected sound and realize he’s spitting onto his hand, the wet plop of the saliva hitting his skin sounding so crass. His hand comes into view again and he spreads the spit around. It must not be enough though, because the view changes angles, like he’s sitting up, and he spits directly onto his dick. The spittle lands messily, a blob of saliva and bubbles right in the center of his shaft.

Why is that so hot? In any other circumstance, I think it’s gross when guys spit, but seeing Charlie’s erection shiny, watching him spread it all over from tip to base—it makes me push the vibrator in the rest of the way.

“Yesss,” he hisses.

My moan escapes without my permission, but I’m so close to coming I don’t care. It’s not like I need to preserve my dignity at this point. We’re having phone sex; getting each other off is the point. I push the vibrator in and out, swiping up to circle my clit after every couple of strokes. The tingling of my nipples can’t be ignored anymore, so I use my free hand to pinch the right one, then the left.

“Oh, God. Those pretty nipples need attention, don’t they? I want to bite them. You’d like that, wouldn’t you, Red? The sting of my bite followed by the thrust of my cock.”

I nod in agreement, so far gone that words escape me. He’s fucking his hand in earnest, now, and the up and down movement of his hips is hypnotic.

“Fuck, I’m going to come,” he announces. I stop moving, transfixed as he stops all motion, brings the camera closer to his cock and gives one final stroke. His dick pulses in his hand, a jet of semen erupting from the tip and landing…somewhere. A masculine grunt, deep and erotic, hits me in my clit, reminding me that I stopped moving. His cock is still jerking and spurting, the semen now running onto his hand, adding to the lubrication. He fingers the ball of his piercing at the base of his head and the picture on my screen jumps as his movements get choppy and stuttered.

He sighs blissfully. “Do it. I need you to come now.”

My orgasm is unstoppable. One stroke of the vibrator across my clit and back into my pussy takes me over the edge, my gaze still locked on his spent cock, wet with his cum. I moan and buck, trying to keep still so he can see the muscles in my vagina clench around the vibrator. I turn it off quickly but keep it inside, moving it in and out so slowly until I stop pulsing with pleasure.

When I’ve come back to Earth, seeing my pussy on the screen is a bit awkward. I remove the vibrator, drop it on the bed next to me, and pick up the camera. He does the same, and our faces come into view. We’re both flushed and a bit sweaty. My hair is an absolute disaster, the wild curls sticking up everywhere.

I bite my lip and he smiles broadly, dimples flashing at me.

“That. Was. Awesome.” He emphasizes each word like a 14-year-old boy who just got his first blow job.

I laugh. “Yes, it was definitely more exciting than what I had planned for tonight.”

“Will you give me a sec?” He waves his semen-coated hand around. “I need to take care of this, but don’t hang up, okay?”

“Sure. Me too.” I lay the phone on my bed, go to the bathroom to wash my hands and put on a robe, then lie back down and pick the phone back up. Charlie’s smiling face greets me.

“Hi,” he says, as if we just started talking.

“Hi.” I chuckle.

“Aww, you covered up the fun parts.”

“You had a pretty good view of my fun parts just a moment ago.”

His smile turns naughty. “Yes, I did.”

“So, how’s your trip? You winning the new clients over with those dimples?”

“Today went well…”

I fall asleep with Charlie’s deep voice rumbling in my ear as he tells me about his day.