The rest of the night

Not long after I got back from Lewis' place I found myself freshly showered and cleaned up, on my bed and on Tinder. I had gotten more swipes, which were used up right away to give myself another dozen or two matches. It was late now so most of them weren't messaging but I had plenty of them already. I saw this as more like a model getting cheers on the catwalk than cheating; I wasn't going to do anything with any of these guys, but I wouldn't turn away their affirmation of my body. What happened with Lewis was an anomaly, a one time thing, and it was 'Jess' who fucked him anyways, not me. Even though that's what I was thinking, I wasn't able to stop myself from reading the messages they sent me, and eventually I realized I was soaking wet from all of these guys saying that they wanted to fuck my brains out.

I messaged a couple of them before I fully thought it through, exchanging snapchats and phone numbers with three who happened to still be awake. One wanted to come fuck me right then, but I at least stopped that. They sent pictures of their bulges and post-workout bodies and cocks and made me realize I had no nudes. I fixed that problem the same night, taking and retaking nudes to send to these guys. All were carefully cropped and angled to maximize my sex appeal while covering up my identity. I felt a sort of gratification when one of them sent a video of himself cumming, saying he had jerked off to me. Somewhere along the line I just stopped thinking about the morality of all this, and instead focused on myself; this made me feel good, it made me feel sexy, and I wanted to keep doing it.

I fell asleep at almost 4 p.m., naked in bed. I had nothing to do the rest of the day tomorrow, so I'd have to figure out some way to occupy my time before Casey's birthday party.