Your colleague

You're so excited that you don't notice you dropped the picture in the wrong conversation. This one is rather short, since you pretty much hate the guy. Once in a while, he tries to initiate something. It's usually ridiculous and never subtle. Either way, you almost never answer, and when you do, it's for professional reasons. Even then, you usually need to shut him down. If you paid a little more attention, you'd notice the mix up, but your brain is now fully focused on the events you hope will unfold later on. And so it happens that you send more pictures... your taut belly, your wet pussy...

And suddenly, a message pops. A green message pops. Not a blue message, like the ones coming from Jake's iPhone. A green message. From an Android phone.

You feel like you just got thrown under that cold shower again, except your legs are now, metaphorically, ensconced in a block of ice. Your face burns with shame. And then you see the name, and your world goes up in flames.

"Well, well. I knew you wanted me, you slut. Hey, let me show you my appreciation..."

Seconds later, a picture loads up. You don't need to check to know what it is. The asshat loves his cock and keeps mentioning just how much the ladies love his tool. He's the damn tool... You can't help but bite your lip in surprise, though, when it displays and you realize it's a Mountain Dew can next to that cock. He *is* huge. You shouldn't be looking at that, yet you were extremely excited minutes ago. You're in need for sex, impressed by the cock and very, very much ashamed. Your head spins from the mental disconnect.

Ping.

You received another message. It's a video now. He's stroking the large thing, and soon enough he ejaculates... all over his tablet where he displayed your pics. He's a damn pig... but that's a lot of cum. You don't know what to think. You're lost, and in shock.

"That was good, slut. How about I ram this thing up your tight snatch tomorrow morning? I know of a meeting room in the fourth level where no one ever goes, and I have the key... or maybe you'd rather get wrecked in the ladies' room?"

The damn, damn asshole. He's now convinced you want him to bang you. And, to tell the truth, a tiny, tiny part of you, deep within that lizard brain, is appreciative of the heat he's packing.

You finally find the courage to type:

"Oh God, I made a mistake, these were intended for Jake! Please delete them!"

He answers within seconds.

"Yeah, right. That's why you watched the video before you answered... You want me, but you're afraid, aren't you? Don't worry. I've fucked tighter sluts. Hell, you should ask Alice, she was daaaamn tight!"

Oh, come ON. She didn't! Did she?

Oh, God. She probably did. If there is a stupid mistake to make, she always does it. Wait.

You just sent him slutty pics and let him catch you watching his video. Wait, how does he know? He's probably guessing. Still, you have no right to feel superior to Alice. This is bad...