Me:Don’t tempt me. If I get caught, I’ll get my ass handed to me.
Tatum:Does this tempt you?
A photo comes through a moment later of her wearing the gift I left in her room—a women’s jersey with the number 86 on it with my last name emblazoned on the back.
Her last name now, too.
And it appears to beallshe’s wearing.
My mouth waters as my cock hardens.
Me:It’s more than tempting.
Tatum:So what are you going to do about it?
I debate what to do. I can’t leave my room, and I can’t invite her to mine.
But nobody is in my room with me. We could have a little fun…
I snap a picture and send it to her before I even think twice. It’s a shot of my hand down my shorts. I’m not showing any skin, but it’s a clear enough message that I’m holding my cock in my hand and I’m ready to start stroking it.
Tatum:Wishing it was my hand.
Me:What are you doing with your hand?
Tatum:I wasn’t doing anything, but seeing that image has me doing this now.
She sends back a picture similar to mine, and my mind runs wild with the possibilities of what her fingers are doing down there.
Me:Tease that cunt for me. Slide a finger inside, but don’t touch your clit yet.
Tatum:Why not?
Me:Because I’ll tell you when I’m getting close so we can come together.
Tatum:How am I supposed to text you while I’m coming?
Me:You’ll figure it out if you want it bad enough. Now take a tit out and pinch your nipple for me.
She sends me a picture.
A goddamn picture of her nipple held tight between her fingertips, which means her other hand isn’t in her pussy anymore.
Her face isn’t in it, but Christ, that image is going in the spank bank for the rest of time.
Me:You stopped touching your cunt.
Tatum:Only to send you that pic. Sliding my finger back in…now.
Me:How does it feel?
Tatum:I like it better when it’s your finger, but getting these directions over text message is kinda hot.
Me:Just kinda hot? Maybe I need to step it up.
Ipull my cock out of my shorts, grip it at the base, and take a picture. I send it to her.
Tatum:Oh my God, Ford. That’s hot as hell.
