Anonymous:Then I’ll have to come over and taste the wetness between your legs myself, princess. Come on. Send through a picture to get me started.
Fire ignites between my thighs. I’ve had enough of that stuff for one day, but it’s been a while since I detached from motherhood and had some playtime of my own.
I break my golden rule by opening up the camera app on my phone.
Piper Hart doesn’t send nudes. She leads men on. Teases. Makes them work for it. But as of yesterday, I am not Piper Hart. I’m a befuddled version of her who chose to set fire to her kitchen. Piper Hart doesn’t risk her own child’s safety. She doesn’t get involved with men.
So I may as well roll with the punches, and keep being this befuddled version of myself to get it out of my system.
Tomorrow is a new day. Tomorrow, I’ll switch back to rational thinking and come up with an action plan on how Sonny and I are gonna get our asses out of here.
Safely locked into Caleb’s guest room, I roll down my sweatpants and insert the phone between my legs to snap a teasing photo of what Mr. Anonymous has now on multiple occasions asked to see.
It’s not the full thing, of course—there would be no fun in that.
Anonymous:Beautiful. But it is missing something.
Me:Oh yeah? What’s that?
Anonymous:My tongue.
Forget my burning house. This right here is something that could not be put out—a strange thing to admit as a woman who rarely manages to get her rocks off these days.
But like we have already established, I’m not quite myself, so I keep up the message thread with Mr. Anonymous and end a very chaotic day by pumping two fingers in and out of myself.
Anonymous:You’re touching yourself, aren’t you?
Me:Caught red-handed. And what about you?
Anonymous:Wouldn’t you like to know?
Me:Yes. I would.
A nude comes through a minute later—one that pushes me closer to orgasm.
I can only imagine how this looks, me on my back, legs spread with two desperate fingers inside of myself. A locked door won’t stop Caleb from getting in if he really needs to…
That thought turns my blood even thicker.
I look at the nude and let it ground me back to reality.
Nowthatis a force that can’t—and shouldn’t—be reckoned with. I’m half-tempted to ask him to capture a photo of that thing beside a ruler, but it would require too much texting and I can’t remove these fingers from myself until my climax is over and done with.
His weapon is big in all aspects.
I haven’t seen a dick like that since?—
I swallow the thought and get two-timer Caleb out of my head.
Mr. Anonymous must live in a neighboring town. There’s no way men around here are walking around sporting priceless gold like that in their pants. I quickly run through the list of possible options and shake off each one.
Anonymous:Perhaps I could come around to yours. We can finish what we have going on here.
Me:Can’t. Sorry, it’s late.
Not to mention that I’m not in my own house. Or head.
Anonymous:It’s a shame. I would like to meet you.
