I lifted the phone and typed.
Right now, all I want to do is fuck you. I don’t care about anything else.
I should have stopped there. I was going from zero to a hundred, but the thrill that buzzed through me as I shot off the text made me want to see how far I could go. Imagining Harry’s gasp, along with those little exhales he did whenever I threw a compliment his way was enough motivation.
Then a minute passed. And another.
I took the opportunity to change my messages to speech-to-text. There was no way we were going down this route without my cock in my hand.
But then another minute passed.
By the time the phone went off again, I was gripping it like a maniac, wondering if I’d properly fucked it up. It would serve me right for hitting on him when he’s just told me he was engaged.
How would you do it?
“Fucking hell,” I said with a whoosh as I stared at the phone. I was playing with fire, but I wasn’t stopping now. This was an open invitation.
I couldn’t believe it was so easy. I mean, there was a light attraction that danced around us most of our lives, but that’swhy flirting with him was so much fun. It was never anything more than that, and it didn’t need to be. I was happy as we were. Most of the time.
So why was he suddenly going for it? It was like now that Molly was gone, he could just lay it all on the table.
And I, being the over-sexed drunk idiot that I was, wasn't wasting the opportunity. Sexting was pretty much my second language, especially when I was scrolling through my contacts, looking for a quick lay. But Harry wasn’t that; I hadn’t expected him to be. Apart from that one time in uni when he softened in my arms and cried my name as he came.
How would I fuck you? Do you want me on top or underneath?
I want to see your face.
I moaned as I thought of how I could lift his hips, prepare him, kiss him, before thrusting into him and hearing him come undone around me. He could help me forget all the shit Sally was putting me through and be my place to land. It would be so much easier to love on him than be furious at her.
Are you stroking yourself?
No.
But are you getting hard?
Maybe.
Another pause, and my face split into a grin as his next text came through.
Yes.
Good. Start stroking yourself and let me tell you how I’d take you in my mouth.
There was another long pause. I was worried I’d taken it too far already. He’d told me what he wanted, but maybe he wasn’t ready for it.
Okay, I’m lying in bed.
I pictured him, or, more accurately, I pictured him onmybed, spread on green sheets, legs open, panting as he waited for me.
Are you naked?
I asked, fumbling with one hand at my belt as I waited for his reply.
I pushed at the fly, popping up the buttons on my boxers to pull out my cock, already hard and needing relief. I stroked myself once, groaning at the thought of Harry waiting for me.
Almost. I’m taking off my clothes now. I want to imagine you next to me.
I’m already aching to come. I’m thinking about how easily I could slide my tongue over your hungry cock.