Looing Through Your Phone

What would it hurt? I thought as the shower came on in the background. Jason always took long showers. I had time. Just one look at this phone. At least I'd know what was in it. I'd know if he was cheating. Forewarned is forearmed and all that.

Before I could change my mind, I had picked up my boyfriend's phone. My hands were shaking. I took a few deep breaths to calm my nerves before turning on the screen. I went straight to the messages. Work stuff, office conversations, nothing here to see.

I noticed a hint of disappointment I couldn't understand.

My fingers moved on to the pictures section. Surely, there would be something.

Click.

Pictures of work equipment, pictures of receipts, ugh. My boyfriend was boring as he- hey, what was that? Something stared up at me. I wasn't prepared for it.

In all my searching and all my imagining, I wasn't prepared. Skin always looks different in pictures, but this I wasn't prepared for.

It was pussy.

More importantly, it was my pussy. I'd recognize it anywhere.

Shaving every day had me intimately aware of its shape, the folds, the flesh. The fat outer lips he said someone might have a fetish for out there. The lips he would spread to get to the soft insides, always hungry for more.

What was he was doing? Putting the pictures on the internet?

Various shades of pink, in high definition. This didn't look like the seedy pictures taken in secret, with lights low enough to blur. Here, every detail was highly visible, the lips folded over each other. Tiny hairs and bumps visible. And in the middle, like a delicious secret, the hint of moistness.

A thrill started deep down inside me and went up, my hand inadvertently reached down under the blanket to touch my real pussy. I was wet in an instant. How did he take these pictures without me knowing? I had questions, but it didn't matter for the moment. What mattered was that they were there. More and more of them as I swiped. They kept coming. One after another.

There I was sitting on a chair by the looks of it and the shot had been taken from under the table. I always sat with my legs apart and in this particular instance, he had managed to move the panties off to the side. The black lace lay casually next to my mound. I stared at my clitoris, rubbing myself evenly, not wanting to cum too fast.

When did he manage these? And how? Questions and more questions. But not more questions than pictures. I swiped with my right hand, transfixed and turned on, as my left stroked the growing moisture, pinched and pulled. I couldn't stop.

There I was spread-eagled on the bed. I was on my back, my eyes closed. Was I awake when he took this one? No, of course not. I would have remembered. What was I doing? I must have been asleep. Either way, I couldn't tell. The rest of me was a blur in the background.

In the foreground, there was my pussy. And something else this time. The invitation into the perfectly engorged, moist pit had done its job. In front of it was his member.

Hard, ready to ram.

"Ohhh..." A moan escaped me. I froze, listening to the shower in the bathroom, one finger still deep inside my hole, another on my clit, the usual wet throbbing egging me on to continue, to finish the job my eyes had started.

He hadn't heard me. Phew.

Swipe, swipe, swipe. Faster and faster I went, right hand on the phone, left on my clit, both hands working furiously.

He was stroking himself in the pictures and swiping through them fast made it seem like a video I was watching. A video of my boyfriend jerking off to my naked vagina. And it was fucking fabulous. Like watching ourselves in the mirror.

His hand was on his shaft, the length of it, stroke, stroke, stroke. In the foreground was me.

The images got slightly blurry as time went on. I suppose he was losing control.

Oh man, I had to do it. I reached for his underwear lying on the bed next to me and draped it on my face. The musky smell overwhelmed me. I gave in to the heat rising from my breasts. I pulled my shirt up, letting my nipples rub against the blanket.

Harder and harder I breathed, watching my boyfriend's hand move over his dick as he watched me. As I watched us. My fingers reached deep inside me as I moaned. I was beyond caring.

"Oh, yes, yes, cum for me," I breathed. "Fuck my cunt. Fuck it, fuck it hard," I moaned as my fingers probed deeper and deeper, watching him stroke and stroke and stroke until finally, he moved closer to my sleeping pussy on the bed.

That was when I came, hard, hips in the air, back arched, as I watched him deposit his creamy load onto the folds in my pussy, that sweet, salty mixture mingling with my own cum.

I lay there, panting a while, then quickly hearing the shower turn off, I turned off the phone, wiped whatever juices had made their way on to it via my hands and placed it back on his nightstand.

He would be none the wiser. And all day today and especially when I went to bed tonight, I would leave off my underwear.