Sexting

Later that day Craig sat on his uncle’s couch, flipping through the old notebook Nick kept for contacts. MJ’s number was right there in neat handwriting. He smirked, saved it, and opened a new message. I bet she’ll answer. She was too hungry last night not to.

Craig: Thinking about that tight pussy of yours.

[Attached: close-up of his thick cock, half-hard, veins standing out]

He sent another.

Craig: Still wet for it, or did you already forget?

No way she forgot. Not after the way she begged.

In his own bedroom Nick scrolled the same number from his phone. He kicked back against the headboard, free hand on his cock.

Nick: Master wants another round, redhead.

[Attached: full shot of his enormous cock, already stiff]

Nick: Tell me how much you miss this stretching you.

MJ’s phone buzzed twice while she sat on the bed, still in her underwear. She saw the unknown numbers, then the photos. Her stomach twisted. Two bastards. I should delete both. She locked the screen, dropped the phone, tried to ignore it. Guilt rose again—Peter was somewhere in the house, quiet and hurting.

She opened both threads. The photos filled the screen. Heat flooded between her legs. God, I’m already wet. She grabbed the thick dildo, pushed it into her pussy with a sharp gasp, and typed with one hand.

MJ to Craig: I shouldn’t answer.

Craig: But you are. Show me.

She’s hooked. Perfect.

MJ: [photo of the dildo buried in her pussy]

MJ: It’s almost as big as yours.

Craig: Not even close. Push it deeper. Say my name when you come.

Then she answered Nick, feeling super wicked about it.

MJ to Nick: Master…

Why does calling him that still feel so good?

Nick: Good girl. Finger that pussy while you take the toy. Send me a video.

She’s already obeying. Soft little slut.

MJ: [short clip of her riding the dildo, free hand rubbing her clit]

MJ: It’s so deep. I keep thinking about your cock.

Oh God, I’m the biggest slut ever!

Peter’s message arrived while she was mid-thrust.

Peter: Hey. You okay? Want to order food later?

MJ: Yeah. I’m fine. Just tired.

I’m such a bitch.

Peter: Okay. Love you.

MJ: Love you too.

She kept the chat with Peter open on one side of the screen, the two dirty threads on the other. The dildo moved steadily in and out of her ass now. Her free hand switched between typing and stroking her clit. Neither of them knows the other is texting me. And Peter has no idea.

Craig: Tell me you’re still my dirty slut.

MJ: I am. I came so hard on your cock and then your uncle’s.

Craig: Forget him. Focus on me, bitch.

MJ: [another photo, closer, showing her stretched hole around the toy]

Nick: Master’s cock is hard again just watching that.

MJ: I want it. Again, deep in my asshole!

Nick: You’ll get it. Beg properly.

She still thinks she has a choice.

MJ: Please, Master. Fuck my ass again. Ruin me with your huge cock.

Peter’s next text popped up.

Peter: Anything particular you feel like eating?

MJ: Whatever you want is fine, Tiger.

Peter: Cool. I’ll check the apps.

She moaned into the empty bedroom, hips rolling harder on the dildo. Cum slicked her fingers. She sent one more photo to both men—face flushed, lips parted, the toy fully seated—then typed the same reply to each:

MJ: I’m coming. Thinking about you filling me.

Craig and Nick answered almost together, neither knowing the other had just received the same words.

Craig: Good. Save some of that for me.

She’s mine whenever I want her.

Nick: Master’s proud of his slut. Keep the phone close.

Next time I’ll make her scream louder.

MJ’s orgasm hit while Peter’s last message sat unread on the screen. She bit her lip to stay quiet, body shaking, phone still in her hand. I hate how much I love this.

Before finishing himself, Craig had an idea. He angled the phone low and took a few shots of his hard cock from below. Then he stroked until thick ropes of cum painted the shaft and head. He snapped more photos of the messy result and sent them straight to Peter.

Craig: Hey, faggot! Just to whet your appetite!

Peter opened the message. His face went hot with fury. He glanced at the food app—still a few minutes until delivery. He shoved his shorts down and started stroking to the sticky images, cock already hard.

Fuck, what am I doing?