Max wants more

He wanted photos of Silke. Real photos.

He’d been lusting after her for months. Whenever she was with Jonas, he’d secretly ogled her. Her breasts, her ass, her legs. He’d imagined a hundred times what she looked like naked. And now he had the chance to get more.

Max wasn’t sure what tone to use. If he came on too strong, she might get suspicious. So he decided on a believable story: he pretended to be drunk. That would make everything more casual and excuse any direct messages. And he’d be turned on by the neighbors having sex.

He opened the chat with Silke on Jonas’s phone and wrote:

“Do you miss me already? ”

The reply came faster than he expected.

Silke wrote back, a little surprised but friendly. Max held back, playing the role of the slightly drunk but loving boyfriend.

Eventually, he got bolder.

“Show me your tits. I want to see you. Please.”

Silke hesitated. Max could sense it. But then the reply came:

A photo.

Then another one.

And another, and another, and another.

Max stared at the phone. His hand trembled slightly.

The five pictures were better than anything he’d expected.

Silke hadn’t just shown her breasts—she’d shown her face, too. She’d taken photos in different poses—sometimes from above, sometimes slightly from the side, sometimes with her gaze slightly lowered. The lighting was good, almost professional. The quality was high.

Max immediately zoomed in on her nipples.

They were small but firm. The color was a light, delicate pink, almost pastel. The areolas weren’t too large, slightly irregular in shape, and had a soft, velvety texture. The nipples themselves stood out firmly—small, firm buds that stood out clearly against the light pink of the areolas.

He zoomed in further.

In one of the photos, he saw her tan line. A light strip ran right under her breasts, where her bikini top would normally sit. The skin above it was lightly tanned; below it, lighter and more delicate. It looked incredibly intimate. Max could imagine how that light skin felt—soft and sensitive.

He got extremely hard.

Max leaned back, unzipped his pants, and took out his cock. It was already rock-hard. As he scrolled through the pictures, he slowly jerked off. He zoomed in alternately on her nipples, the tan line, and her face. In some photos she looked slightly embarrassed; in others, almost cheeky.

“Fuck… Silke…,” he murmured softly.

He jerked off harder. The pictures were so clear, so detailed. He could almost make out the fine texture of her nipples. He imagined how they’d feel between his lips, how they’d harden when he sucked on them.

It didn’t take long.

With a stifled groan, he came. Thick cum spurted over his hand and onto his T-shirt. Max was breathing heavily and kept staring at the photos.

He was in heaven.

But it wasn’t enough.

He wanted more. Much more.

He wanted videos. He wanted her to touch herself. He wanted her to show her ass. He wanted her to write his name while she filmed herself. He wanted it all.

Max glanced at his watch. He only had a few days left in the shared apartment. Then he’d move out and go home. Time was running out.

He smiled coldly.