When I put my phone away, I'm so angry that I'm sure I'll never text him again. But I'm still hard, and touching myself alone isn't the same. I'm still excited, even ten minutes after sending him my last message. Of course, he hasn't replied. What would he even say? "Excuse me for turning you on?" Because he did, and somehow, he's damn good at it. I can't stop thinking about his picture as I walk into my small kitchen to drink more. And more. Maybe I can drink up some courage, maybe I can still...
sorry
for freaking out
Welcome back slut
You know I'm just toying with you, right?
whatever
you turned me on
now take responsibility for it
Sounds a bit naughty, don't you think?
please
Nice try
God damn it. He really wants to prove how desperate I am.
i fucking hate you
Please
Im begging you
Learning fast, I see
whatever
Take off your pants.
I swallow hard. Finally. My hands are a bit shaky as I sit up to pull down my pants.
Your boxers too.
ok
How wet is the bottle cap?
I just sucked it man what do u think
Do it again
Deeper
Until you choke
ok
I push the bottle deeper into my throat. Back. And again. And... God, am I drunk. I want...
Wanna touch yourself?
yes
Just ask polietly
I can't believe what an asshole he is. I would write this to him, but no time for insults.
can I please
You can.
Don't come yet.
And don't stop with the bottle.
How do I say this without sounding like a freak myself? I don't plan on stopping. I start touching myself while I continue with the bottle.
Tell me, are you still wearing your shirt?
yes
Perfect
Keep going
YOU ARE READING
Connect Us ✔
Teen Fiction"God, you're adorable," he chuckled, stepping towards me. When I felt his warmth right in front of me, a soft moan escaped my lips. He was close enough for me to catch the musky scent of his cologne. "Do you want me that bad?" My breath hitched, and...
