Your move

I made it to my desk and sat down, trying to look like a normal person who hadn’t spent the last twenty-four hours turning his Snapchat into softcore porn.

My phone buzzed again almost immediately.

Cousin: “So you’re at work now? Sitting at your desk trying to act normal while you’re hard in your pants because your cousin is texting you?”

I shifted in my chair, cock already thickening again.

Me: “Something like that. You’re not making it easy.”

Cousin: “Good. I’m not trying to.”

She sent another message a minute later.

Cousin: “You know this is fucked up, right? But I haven’t stopped thinking about those photos since I saw them.”

I glanced around the office to make sure no one was looking, then typed back.

Me: “Yeah… it is. But I’m not stopping either.”

She read it, then replied with a photo this time.

It was just her face and shoulders, but she was biting her lip and the top button of her shirt was undone. Not explicit, but definitely not innocent.

Cousin: “Your move.”

I stared at the photo for a long moment, heart pounding. My cousin was sending me teasing photos while I was at work. And I was rock hard under my desk because of it.

I quickly locked my phone and tried to open my emails, but my mind was racing.

Alice. The goth girl. The school friends. My sister’s friend. And now my cousin.

All of them had seen me. All of them were replying.

And none of them were telling me to stop.