Silence.
Several long minutes of silence.
Then,
Oh, fuck. I’m so sorry.
She couldn’t help it—she laughed, but sent back,
It’s . . . not okay, I guess. But don’t worry. I’ll delete it and we can pretend it never happened.
A beat.
Thank you. And again, I’m so sorry.
Which was the point she couldn’t help herself from replying with,
Next you send a dick pic, leave off your head.
Lori winced.
The head attached to your neck, not the one on your . . . well . . . *finger pointing down emoji*
There was no response for a long time. But eventually her cell vibrated again and—
Noted.
Sighing and sending out sad, pathetic thoughts to the universe for having to be a good person and noting that she’d better get some good karma for being nice about an unsolicited dick pic in the middle of the night, she deleted the photo. Then sent a screen shot of their chain—sans pic—as proof to the mysterious, albeit gorgeous man with the yummiest cock she’d ever laid eyes on that she had, in fact, deleted the photo.
A buzz.
Thanks.
She wrinkled her nose and flopped onto her back, wide awake and huffy about it. Then made huffier when her phone vibrated again.
Um. Does that thing happen a lot?
Me receiving unwanted photos of penises? Or the man sending them apologizing?
Either. Both.
She grinned.
Yes to the first. No to the second.
Fuck. Men are assholes.
At least the latest one had a pretty face.
And a pretty something else, but that was beside the point. Lori set her cell on the bedside table again and started to lie back.
Buzz. Buzz.
“Oh my fucking God,” she muttered and scooped up her phone, glaring at the screen as she read.
Then her lips twitched.
How about you send me your pretty face?