It wasn’t a booty call. It might have been, except it was only a text and because we’d been messaging on and off for a few hours. He’d regaled me with the triumphs of making pizza with a friend that evening, I’d shared about my quiet Sunday. It was late and we both should have been asleep.
Me: How are you doing? It’s late, aren’t you sleepy?
Him: I dunno. I guess. Kind of horny.
Me: Ahhh, well, don’t let me keep you …
Him: But … I mean … we could …
Me: I’m not much in the mood, but please, enjoy.
Him: Okay 🙁
Me: Sweet dreams, talk to you tomorrow.
Him: Night night, Beautiful.
I gathered up my empty glass and bowl from some snacks and descended the stairs from the den to the main floor of the house and then up again to my bedroom. I undressed in the dark, the coolness of the room slipping over my skin, the streetlight outside my window making my body glow pale and ghostly in the mirror across from my bed. Settling in I lay there naked under the softness of the covers, the chill in the room setting my nipples to quartz-like tips, my hand idly stroking my thigh. I turned over and picked up my phone. I paused. Then I tapped out a message.
Me: I changed my mind
Him: oh did you? heh heh
Me: so smug
Him: what made you reconsider?
Me: knowing you were getting off, most likely thinking of me, made me want to get off thinking of you. So here we are.
Him: so here we are indeed
Me: indeed. are you very far along?
Him: I can slow down and let you catch up
Me: LOL wow, chivalry isn’t dead
Him: You clearly don’t know how much I want you. All of you. And not just because I’m oozy and aching for you with my cock in my hand trying not to cum so we can cum together …
Me: You have a poet’s heart LOL
Him: Less typing, more touching … let me get you there. Just read me and follow along.
And Reader, I did. And we were both finished and asleep in the next 10 minutes, content, and utterly spent.