Joined by electric memories

Later that night Stacy lay alone in her bed, unable to comprehend the enormity of this sunless expanse of time. She couldn't even dream of sleep. Her whole body had been abuzz since the very moment she had had to reluctantly crawl back into her own clothes, dragging herself back through the plastic fallacy of an average family dinner. Even those clueless strangers who claimed relation to her had noticed a change. She simply told them she didn't feel well, all the better to have an excuse to clamber upstairs early and put a door between herself and them. Thus she had ended up here. Lying under the sheen of her own sweat. School uniform discarded once more as the travesty it truly was. Naked was her true shape. Unveiled and dripping with the love of those who truly saw her.

Her phone flashed in the darkness, their endless electronic conversation had stayed conspicuously quiet over the evening, as each came to terms with the barriers they had now crossed together. Stacy picked it up and flicked it unlocked, unsurprised to be greeted with a looping moving image of herself. Of course Mark had filmed it. And spent the first chance he had in private pouring over the footage. Picking out choice moments like a fine connoisseur. Stacy watched herself on all fours, pressing her own hips back against the pumping thrusts of Peter. Her eyes were closed and lips were parted, a menagerie of wonder flowing across her facial expressions. It was hypnotic, to be staring down upon those few captured seconds of the most perfect and pivotal experience of her life so far.

‘I can almost still feel each thrust!’ She sent to them, followed by a flurry of unsubtle emojis that in no way managed to express what she was feeling.

‘Me too…’ Came Pete’s reply, clearly watching the same cycle from his own bedroom vantage.

‘And I think I can still feel some of Mark’s cum inside of me…’

She had spent most of their last moments together trying to reassure them both that it was fine that her final dowsing had been unprotected. Reassure them much more than she actually felt that is, having spent the last half hour or so googling sexual health sites and calenders. Yet some dark secret part of her couldn't help fantasizing about what if she did get pregnant… She wouldn't be able to face her parents with it. They would have to run away together. Drop out of school to find some dead end jobs and dismal city apartment. Just her and her two best men, forever using her own body to make up for the dire situation she'd dragged them to… Stacy shivered with the dirty, horrific thrill such thoughts awoke in her.

‘Can we see?’ Asked Mark, the short, simple message hiding the creeping hunger of his asking.

Stacy shrugged to herself, slid the phone down between her legs and used her other fingers to spread apart her own labia. Sure enough, if she squeezed… a little dribble of white emerged from her pinkness. She recorded that movement and sent it spiralling out to them. How many candid pictures and videos did they each have of her now? How much damning evidence of her own twisted desires? She slid a finger or two into herself at that contemplation, then sent them a few more. Somewhere, out there, two throbbing phallus would be rising for her. Her own magic wands to make levitate at will. The slight tenderness left inside her from their very first welcoming was already fading. She couldn't wait to be full of them again.

They stayed up late into the night, teasing each other with words and images. Till finally all screens fell silent, overloaded with shared incrimination.