Removing my robe, bra, and panties, I stand up and take justonephoto this time, emboldened by his words. In the photo, I’m turned away from the mirror. All of my hair is down my back, my curls falling to their lowest point just an inch or so above the narrowest part of my waist. My ass is on full view, my legs crossed below the knee, my phone positioned over my shoulder.
Prue: How’s this for persuasive?
Milo: holy fuck!!!!!
Milo: my heart is going to give out
Milo: your hair drives me fucking wild
Milo: if you could hear my thoughts right now you would change your door’s combination
Prue: Tell me
Milo: trust me, no
Prue: Trust me, yes
Milo: I want that sweet ass, killer
Milo: I want my teeth marks on it
Milo: I want to leave my handprints on it too
He types, then stops—those three pesky little dots appearing and disappearing in painful tension.
I knew deep down what I was doing, sendingthisparticular manthisparticular photo—my ass on display for him to see, to lust over. It’s selfish. Carnal. I want to offer him up everything he’s ever been gifted by an ex-lover. I want him to want memorethan anyone or anything he’s ever, ever wanted. I want him. All of him. Achingly so. Every sensual, desiring, hedonistic part of him. I want to be the one to grant him every dirty fantasy or simple wish.
Thinking about anyone else seeing this part of him again makes my blood heat, my eyes water, my stomach drop. I know I shouldn’t. I know I don’t have any say over what he does when he leaves this town. I know what we’ve agreed to. But Ihateit just the same.
Prue: Say it
Milo: it’s not on your list
Prue: Sexting wasn’t either
Milo: I want to fuck you every way imaginable, Prue
Milo: I spend my free moments listing them all off in my head and picturing you there with me
Milo: so if you’re asking me if I want my cock in your ass, killer, then the answer is yes
My cheeks heat, my heartpoundsas I read his text five, ten, twenty times.
Milo: but, it’s your pace here
Milo: your rules
Milo: I’ll gratefully take anything you’ll give me and never expect more
Milo: please say something
Prue: I want to give you more of me.
Prue: All of me, eventually.
Prue: But, tonight, let’s start here.
I send him one last photo of the space between my thighs that aches for him so badly, covered slightly by my hand, two of my fingers pressed against my clit.
