Janice phone lights up with a message from Terry

Janice's phone, lying face-up on the discarded blanket, lit up with a sudden, intrusive glow. The notification preview was enough to make her breath catch in her throat. It was from a number not saved in her contacts, but the preview text was unmistakable. Terry: Thought you might need a real one to look at.

A sick curiosity, a morbid pull she couldn't explain, had her thumb swiping across the screen before her brain could catch up. The video started instantly. There was Terry, in what looked like a cheap motel room, a smug grin plastered on his face as he aimed the camera down. The image was grainy, poorly lit, but there was no mistaking the sheer, aggressive size of him as he worked himself with one hand. He was huge, a fact he was clearly, obscenely proud of.

A series of lewd texts followed, popping up below the video player.

Terry: Bet that little white boy ain't packing this.

Terry: This is what a real cock looks like, slut. You'd be begging for it in minutes.

Terry: Next time I see you, I'm gonna bend you over that pretty boy's desk and show him how a real man fucks.

A hot, complicated wave of emotions crashed over Janice. Anger, sharp and acidic, burned in her chest. The disrespect was staggering, the arrogance a palpable thing through the screen. He was a pig. A disgusting, entitled bully.

But.

A dark, unwelcome flicker of heat sparked low in her belly. It was a purely physical, primal reaction she hated herself for. The alphaness that Terry projected, even through a phone, was undeniable. He was an animal, all muscle and swagger and raw, unapologetic power. The video was crass, but it was also confident. A stark, ugly contrast to the tender, almost worshipful way John had just made love to her.

https://www.patreon.com/JasonMaster