Stay home and keep creeping (solo)

You don’t want to risk Liz finding out you went to her show without talking to her about it first. So you decide to play it safe and stay home. Sure you could go to a bar or do anything else to take your mind off of it. But your thoughts just won’t break free and move on. You’re checking your phone perpetually for any updates to Liz’s social media.

You start watching a new series that everyone has been telling you to binge, hoping for a distraction. It works, until about half an hour before the burlesque show starts. That’s when Liz starts posting.

It’s innocent enough to start, selfies of herself and with her fellow performers backstage getting ready. Everyone is dressed in their costumes and finishing up their make-up. She looks good. Once the show begins she posts a full body shot in front of a mirror. She does look so damn good. And before she gets called to the stage there’s one more of her winking at the camera superimposed with the words “wish me luck”.

Without thinking you say, “Good luck,” to yourself.

You realize that you have not followed the last half hour of whatever is happening on your TV. You turn it off and focus exclusively on your phone. You also realize that your dick is hard as a rock so you unzip your pants and pull it out. You examine her posts over and over while you jerk yourself off.

You build up a nice steady pace for a few minutes when suddenly you see a new post. And it’s a video. Clicking on it with the thumb of your off hand reveals a shot of Liz on the stage, with the audience behind her. She must have given her phone to someone else to film her act from the wings.

You watch as Liz turns her back to the audience, bends over at the waist, and lifts up the back of her dress. You can’t see anything because of the angle of the camera, just Liz’s face as she spots the camera and smiles. But the audience can see a lot. And judging by their very vocal reaction they love it. Then it ends. The clip is very short, less than ten seconds.

You play it again.

You play it again and again and again.

Your hand pumps faster and faster on your throbbing cock as your eyes are fixed to the tiny screen in front of you watching your friend moon over a hundred people on repeat until with a groan of “OHGOD!” you shoot several ropes of thick cum directly at your phone.

Some splatters off onto your hand and shirt. Some drips down onto your pants. But the video keeps on playing, now with streaky lines of semen partially blocking the view. The perverted satisfaction you feel in this secret, lewd use of her image let’s you know for sure that you’ll be doing this again.

And again.

And again.