Later that night…

Ellie couldn’t sleep.

She rolled over onto her stomach, propping herself up on her elbows. Her breasts pressed into the mattress and she flicked her hair back to glance over at the man sleeping beside her. Mark was still one of the most beautiful men she had ever met, but he hadn’t excited her for a long time now.

And she craved excitement.

Reaching over for her phone from the nightstand, she flicked the screen to life and tapped on the Messenger app. The little green dot next to his name told her he was still online, and she clicked open the conversation.

He had called her beautiful.

She smiled, and chewed on her lower lip thoughtfully. She really didn’t know what to respond to that last comment, but she knew she wanted to say something. Anything.

‘Any suggestions for getting to sleep?’ she typed, and hit send. A moment passed, as the dotted line indicated he was typing appeared, then paused, then appeared again. It seemed to take an age before his reply appeared.

‘I hear endorphins are good for sending you to sleep ;)’ he said, and she raised her eyebrows. That was unexpected.

‘So you think I should get upset and put myself through immense emotional stress? Or maybe go for a run? Oh wait, for me, they’re the same thing :p ’ she replied quickly. Exercise and stress. That was what released endorphins, right?

Again, his reply seemed to take an age to come through.

‘I was thinking more along the immense happiness route ;)’ he said, and she felt a twinge between her legs.

He had been thinking about her orgasming.

And he was telling her.

Clearly, 4am flirting was taken up a notch from 4pm flirting.

She panicked and tried to defuse the situation.

‘Ah, no such luck,’ she typed. ‘BF is out like a light. And he’ll be grumpy in the morning if I wake him up now.’

This time the answer was quick.

‘Who says you need a second person?’ She read fast, and clicked off the screen as if that would make the message unread. Was this really happening? Was her “safe” flirt telling her to masturbate? Was he thinking about it?

She rolled over onto her back, stuffing her phone under the pillow. This was wrong. She kicked off the duvet, suddenly too warm beneath its fluffy confines; but as soon as the cool air hit her nipples they stiffened. She wanted so desperately to touch them.

The thought that he had been thinking about her, maybe touching himself… it was turning her on.

The buzz of another message sounded under the pillow and she reached behind her for the phone.

‘Sorry. Inappropriate?’