It was supposed to go to my best friend.
Just a silly, flirty pic — me in a towel, wet hair, lips pouted.
Nothing too crazy… just teasing.
But my finger slipped.
And I sent it to him — my crush.
One minute later… my phone rang.
> “Was that for me?”
“Because if it was, I need more…”
I froze. My heart raced. I tried to laugh it off.
> “Oops,” I said. “Wrong person…”
But he wasn’t laughing.
> “I’m serious. You looked so damn good. I can't stop thinking about that photo.”
“Can I tell you what I’d do if I was in your room right now?”
I didn’t stop him. I couldn’t.
His voice dropped to a whisper.
He started slow. Describing how he’d grab my waist.
How he’d let the towel fall to the floor.
How his hands would explore every inch of me…
I was listening. Breathing hard.
My fingers slowly moved under my blanket.
> “Tell me,” he said, “Are you touching yourself now?”
“Because I am.”
I couldn’t lie. I moaned his name.
And that’s all it took for him to lose control.
We didn’t stop until we both collapsed.
Breathless. Sweaty. Smiling.
And ever since that night, we never go a week without another "accidental" call 😈
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