Page 4 of Sexting my Bratva Daddies

“Elena.” Her name came out in a shocked whisper as I read her message.

No, but I’d love to ride your face to your favorite song.

What had she done? I mean, she wasn’t wrong.

I’d never been voyeuristic in my sexual exploits, and I longed to change that, but this on our first day of texting?

A message popped up, and I almost couldn’t bring myself to look, but temptation won.

My entire body flushed hot at his response.

Say when.

2

PEYTON

Three weeks later, we were still texting, still teasing. I’d grown more confident in chatting with him, and things were definitely heating up.

We’d sexted a couple of times, and even though I’d managed to find release using my own hands and toys while we talked, it wasn’t the same as having him in the room with me, having him take me to those heights he claimed were possible.

It had reached the point I had to lock my phone away in the desk until lunchtime or I spent hours hot and bothered at my desk as I reread our interactions.

But I had to show Elena our newest text thread when we met up at lunch. I hooked my arm around hers and guided her away from her usual table in the center of the room. “I need to ask your advice.”

Her eyebrows went up at that, and she sank into the chair. “Ask away.”

This was one of the many reasons I was so grateful for her friendship. Elena never made me feel weird or awkward. I held out my phone and took a deep breath.

“Things are heating up. He’s clearly adventurous, and he even asked last week if I was interested in being with more than one man.”

Elena’s eyes scanned the phone screen. She scrolled up, then down, taking in the conversation in a matter of seconds. “And it seems you have agreed, joining them in this group chat.” A wisp of a smile appeared. “Good for you.”

Years of feeling fetishized for my size melted away thanks to these conversations and Elena’s quick acceptance. “I want to keep trying new things. With them.” I pointed out a message sent last night. “They asked if I want to meet. In person.” My skin prickled with a heat so deep in my core, my bones threatened to melt.

It had been like that every time I chatted with them.

The things they’ve said they want to do to me—with me—have kept me hot and bothered for days.

“What are your fears?” Elena nudged the phone toward me. “Are you worried they are revolting?”

“If I do this, I’m agreeing to meet three strange men.” My heart thumped hard. “Or one very deranged man.” I’d scrolled through our messages for hours last night without responding to his question. What if they were all psychos?

What if they took one look at me and said no way in hell they were touching me? My throat constricted. I didn’t know if I could handle that kind of rejection again.

“Or you are meeting three very virile, sexual men who can make all of your dreams come true?” Elena nudged my elbow with hers. “Take as many precautions as you need, but if it were me, I’d already be there.”

Precautions. Right.

Meet in a public place.

Have a backup plan for escape. Make sure someone knows where I am and what time I should be home. It really sucked that women had to go through all this for a date.

Yes, what I was doing was a little more out there than meeting for coffee, but how many of those innocent coffee dates ended in abduction, murder, or worse?

Too many for me to blow off all my fears without some serious consideration.

I explained all this to Elena, using her as my verbal processor. I’d always worked better that way in some situations, and this was one of them. She listened, then gave me several options to help make sure I remained as safe as possible.