A dick pic

"You could umm... send me a picture of my new best friend. :x" Amber followed up: "But only if you're comfortable!!"

Reese was full-on blushing now, feeling exposed even though no one else was around. They turned their phone over in their hands, tapping at the screen with fingernails they realized they hadn't painted in a while, and thought it over. There was no harm, really, if she wanted it, and besides, they'd be a hypocrite to worry about the picture being leaked -- did they not devote a decent portion of their life to documenting and collecting the vulnerability of their lovers? Amber was not just their lover, they were hers; why not be ****, too? And how modest did they really need to be around someone who had, eagerly and on multiple occasions, swallowed their cum?

"Promise you won't share it?" Reese impulsively typed, hitting "send" and hoping for the best. "I know you won't, I'm just weird."

"I promise. But if you're uncomfortable at all please don't do it, okay?"

":3" was all Reese sent before they hopped off the couch.

Reese doffed their jeans and boxers and climbed onto their bed. They sighed as their body hit the comforter. It felt good, cool against their naked skin.

They rolled onto their side and curled into a sort of half-fetal position, making it easier to angle the camera toward their crotch. But they didn't open the camera yet.

Reese re-opened the picture Amber'd sent them. Their cock tingled at the sight of her, but it was the memories that came with it -- of her confidently stripping nude before crawling onto the couch, of her mouth wrapped around them, of the sounds she made and the things she said, the way she greedily took everything they had to give, the face she made when she came... Reese stroked themself off, smiling softly, toes curled, breath short.

When they were as hard as they'd ever be Reese brought the phone low, found the best angle they could, and snapped a picture. They studied their work before sending it: it wasn't bad, honestly -- as far as dick pics went this was at least mildly passable, and it had the added bonus of not only being wanted, but requested.

Reese double- and triple-checked that they had the right recipient before sending it to Amber.

No response yet. Reese rolled onto their back and stretched. Something popped.

An anemic sunbeam cut through the blinds and across their bed. It was like being in high school, or early college, again: a weird kid, an outcast, lying alone in their bed, sad (were they sad?) and lonely (but were they lonely?), looking up at the ceiling, contemplating their place in the universe (at a desk, behind a computer screen, existing solely in the footage they edited and the invoices they sent), as if they had any say in the matter. As if they mattered, at least in a cosmic sense. One day they'd replace the blinds and put up new blinds. The sunbeam cutting through them would not be the same as the one bathing them in its cold light now, even if it came from the same sun.

Reese didn't know what that meant. They didn't know what anything meant. They just knew they were still the same weird, horny kid, grown up into a weird, horny adult with minimal social skills.

Their phone buzzed.

Amber. Their chest tightened as they opened the message.

"Oh my :x"

Reese responded, "Is it okay? I don't do this a lot..."

"Yessss <3"

"Okay. :>"

"I'm a fan. :x"

"Yeah?" Reese was teasing her now.

"Mmhmm... ;) Btw I sort of almost gasped when I opened the picture. My coworker asked if I was okay. I didn't think you were actually gonna do it... but I'm glad you did. COME ON 6 HURRY UP"

Reese snorted. "Yeah hurry up!"

"Hey, Reese..."

"Yeah?"

"Could I, umm... also have a picture of your face? :x"

"Sure." They smiled.

Reese scooted down the bed until the sunbeam was half over their face, wanting the selfie to have at least some aesthetic. They raised the phone high -- keeping their arm steady was actually a little difficult -- and positioned it over their face and upper torso. Wearing an almost non-existent smile, resting their hand just above their head, making sure to also clutch the sleeves of their crewneck for maximum cuteness, hair tousled in just the right way, Reese looked like a small, **** thing, at odds with the picture they'd just sent.

They snapped the photo and studied it. They actually looked pretty cute; pretty soft, too, which pleased them. They hated looking bro-ey or tough or whatever dumb adjective one could use to describe the kind of person who took pictures of their own dick.

Reese sent the photo, then closed their eyes. It felt good to lie in the sun.

Amber quickly responded: "Oh my god you're so fucking cute."

They smiled. "Really? :>"

"REALLY."

Reese sighed happily. The next four hours couldn't pass quickly enough.

Indeed, the next four hours did not pass quickly enough.

Reese and Amber chatted as much as they could, though an early afternoon rush made her unavailable for a while (Reese didn't mind, using the time to get some editing work done). It was nice to mostly talk about nothing with someone, to not feel any pressure whatsoever to be interesting, or unique, or even appealing. Whenever Reese felt the pang of their self-esteem telling them they weren't good enough they read Amber's message ("you're so fucking cute..."), looked at the photo, looked at the silly things she'd sent them, and suddenly they felt... they felt okay. And that was all they needed.

To feel okay.

Around five Reese considered hopping over to Heirloom to get a coffee, but decided against it -- surely it would be suspicious if they came in more than once. Someone would notice, right? Someone would say something to Amber after they left?

They weren't sure how much they needed caffeine, anyway. They were fully awake, dulled only slightly by the sense of contentment that washed over them in the wake of the selfie situation.

Time had seemed to halt. And then, all of a sudden, it didn't, and Amber texted them, "FIVE MINUTES." Reese took that as their cue to slip on their flip-flops and drive over to Heirloom.

They parked in the same spot as when they'd dropped Amber off. Within minutes she emerged, waving to someone inside, before stepping onto the sidewalk that ran along the side of the building. It was like a dream, a scene out of a cheesy movie, but the wind picked up few leaves from the ground and swirled them at her feet, and when she stepped over them it was like watching a fairy enter the realm of the mundane.

Amber grinned at Reese from the sidewalk, waving, hurrying over to their passenger door. She climbed in, put her bag on the floor, and buckled up. "Hi," she said simply, leaning over and kissing Reese straight on the lips.

"Hi," they replied. Their pants were tight.

"Let's go," Amber said.

Reese pulled out of Heirloom's parking lot and started the drive home. "How was work?"

"Decent, but so. Fucking. Busy." Amber sighed. "I'm exhausted."

"Yeah?"

"Mmhmm..." She looked out the window. "I was hoping it would be, like, an easy, breezy day, but..." She blew out a puff of air.

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay." She yawned. "Is it okay if I still come over? Even if I'm a sleepy baby?"

Reese snorted. "Absolutely."

"Even if I just wanna cuddle?"

"Even if." Reese flashed a smile. "I, umm... I missed you. Is that weird to say?"

"Why is it weird? I missed you too."

"I just wanna make sure you don't feel... rushed? Or whatever. 'Cause I mean, it's been less than twenty-four hours."

"So? I like you. It's not like we're dating."

"True."

Amber nonchalantly rested her hand on Reese's thigh. "Is this okay?" Reese glanced over and saw that she was blushing.

"Mmhmm..." They reached down and squeezed her hand.

"I can't wait to change."

"I bet."

They turned on to Reese's street.