26 Ocak 2023

Whoops, Wrong Number

Double Penetration

I frowned at the dressing room mirror. The skirt I was trying on was cute, but I couldn’t tell if it was too short or just short enough. I snapped several photos to send to my friend for her opinion. Unfortunately, I wasn’t really paying attention and accidentally sent them to the last person I was texting, a cute guy I’d met at the gym yesterday.Shit! I frantically sent him another message:“omg wrong number sorry!!!”I tried to suppress a groan of frustration. I liked this guy. He was tall, knew how to flirt without being creepy, and was funny without trying too hard. It felt like we were clicking, but there was no way this didn’t make me look like a stalker. Who sends a shot of their ass to a guy this quickly?I flipped back through the pics I’d sent. Uuuuugh, they weren’t even cute. My face was scrunched up because I wasn’t sure about the skirt and my hair was terrible and ugh fuck fuck fuck. I scowled and dropped my phone in my bag.A moment later, my phone buzzed. I picked it back up, dreading the inevitable dick pic. I was already preparing to block his number and write him off forever.Huh. This was interesting.He’d responded with a matching selfie, snapped in a hallway mirror. There was a road bike leaning against the wall behind him, and he was wearing those goofy shoes that clip onto the pedals. It looked like he’d just come back from a ride. He was sticking istanbul travesti his butt out in a comically exaggerated version of my pose. I had to admit, his ass looked great in bike shorts.I was still grinning a second later when my phone buzzed again as he sent a text:“oops meant to send that to someone else sorry”Ha! All my frustration instantly melted away. So he wanted to play, huh?Quickly I pulled off my top, dropped the skirt to the floor and shimmied my way into a dress I was considering for clubbing. It was black, covered in sequins, and very low cut. I squeezed my arms to press my breasts together and snapped a shot of my cleavage. Then I didn’t like that one, so I changed the angle. After a few more tries I had something I was happy with, and I sent it his way.I waited a beat before sending the followup text:“ack wrong number again sorry sorry”I was changing back into my clothes a few minutes later, after deciding to buy the dress but not the skirt, when my phone buzzed. Eagerly, I pulled up his next message and grinned at the photo he’d sent.He was standing in a bathroom now, taking a photo of his reflection in the mirror. He’d hooked his thumb under the hem of his shirt and tugged it up to reveal his flat stomach. A dark trail of hair started at his navel and disappeared under the waistband of his shorts. I imagined my fingers tracing that istanbul travestileri path.My phone buzzed a moment later. His text mirrored mine:“oh no how does this keep happening”Oh, I liked this boy.I picked up my bag and the club dress and headed to the counter. I finished my shopping and drove home, smiling every time I thought of his messages. I ate dinner and chatted with my roommate, thinking about what to send him.I took the next photo in the bathroom mirror, over my shoulder. I’d just gotten out of the shower and was only wearing a towel. My hair was clipped up, but a few strands hung down my neck. I’d carefully allowed my towel to fall open, exposing my bare back and teasing my ass.After sending the pic, I counted to ten and wrote:“ugh my phone might be broken”I had just finished putting lotion on when he responded. It was worth the wait. He’d put some effort into framing the shot. He was standing in the shower, the curtain open, facing away from me. His hands were scrubbing his hair, and the water was running down his back and cascading over his butt. I appreciated the work involved. He must have set a timer before jumping in the shower.The text came a moment later:“mine too so embarrassing”I sent him a close-up photo of me biting my lower lip.“wish I knew why this was happening”His reply came equally quickly. A matching photo of him travesti istanbul biting his lower lip. I imagined how his stubble would feel against my neck.“I know, so arousing”I raised my eyebrow at this escalation. But before I had a chance to wonder if he didn’t understand the rules of our game as well as I’d thought, he texted again:“sorry that was supposed to say ‘annoying’. ducking autocorrect!”I laughed and decided to make him wait for a bit. It was over an hour before I texted him again.I was laying in bed watching a late-night show. I took the photo looking down my body towards my crossed legs. My toes were painted and looked cute, but I doubt he’d notice that. I’d carefully framed the shot so he could just get a peek of pink underwear below the hem of my cami.“I restarted my phone, but it just keeps doing this”He responded a few minutes later with a similar shot. Instead of watching TV, there was a laptop sitting on the bed next to him. His thighs were slightly spread, and he had a thumb hooked in the waistband of his boxers. The thin fabric did little to disguise the outline of his bulge.Once again I imagined following the trail of hair from his navel downward… I was distracted from this train of thought by his text:“maybe you should let someone look at it”It took me a moment to realize he was still talking about my phone.I smiled, his words giving me the idea for my next photo. I sat up and pulled down one strap of my cami, just far enough to reveal the dark skin of my nipple. I teased it, caressing and gently pulling until a shiver rolled down my spine. I gasped and felt my nipple stiffen under my fingers.

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