Sexting 4

Holly got a text message from a phone number she didn't know. It was a picture of a guy's cock, hard, and also a question mark.

She looked at it for a moment, surprised, wondering what to do. She didn't know him, she thought. At least, the number didn't come up as one that was already in her phone. He was probably a weirdo, she thought, but he might just have made an awful mistake.

She supposed she should tell him. She'd want to be told, if she'd just somehow sent naked pictures to the wrong person.

She thought for a moment, then texted him back, saying, "Dude, I don't think I know you."

There was a long, awkward pause. What Holly assumed was an awkward pause, anyway, at his end. Then her phone beeped. There was another message, "I'm so sorry. I mistyped the number."

"I'd have really thought this was something you'd want to use your address book for," Holly sent.

"I was. I thought I was. It's a new phone, and I copied the number over wrong."

While Holly was looking at that message, he sent another.

"A new phone," he said. "Because it's got a better camera."

She laughed. She laughed, and actually liked him for that. She sent a smile.

"I really am sorry," he sent.

"It's cool," she said.

There was a moment's delay, so she thought he'd gone, then another message. "I don't suppose..." he said. That was all the message was, but she understood him perfectly.

"Not a chance, dude," she sent. "Not of me. Not like that one."

"Fair enough," he sent, then, "Is there anything you would send a picture of?"

Holly was sitting on the couch, in the lounge, in front the TV, and her housemate Charlotte was in the room with her. Holly thought for a moment. She was wearing a skirt, so she took a picture of her knee, very close up. Then she changed her mind, because knees might be weirdly sexy, and took one of her elbow instead.

"What are you doing?" her housemate Charlotte said.

"Sexting. Kind of."

Charlotte looked at Holly for a moment, at Holly's elbow. "I don't think you're doing it right," Charlotte said.

Holly grinned, and sent the elbow picture.

"That's nice," the guy texted her back.

"So sent me one from you," she said. "But, um, tamer."

He sent a picture of his elbow too. He had some bicep showing, and was probably flexing it slightly. He had a tee shirt on, and it hugged his arm. It was tight around his arm, not hanging loose. Holly decided she quite liked that.

She held her phone out to Charlotte, and said, "See?"

Charlotte seemed surprised. She grinned, and then looked back to the TV.

Holly sent a picture of the back of her hand, and got one back. There was no wedding ring on his, she noticed, and he had short nails, which looked clean. That was important. There weren't any tattoos or scars either, just in case she needed to identify him. Not that she ever would.

She sent a picture of her knee. It was almost arty, with her foot blurry in the background. She was careful not to show much of the room, nothing he could stalk her with. She sent it, and got a picture of a foot back. Bare, the ankle crossed over the other ankle, that one in a sock. Like a weird striptease.

He didn't have especially hairy legs, she saw. That was a good thing. He didn't have a sports sock tan-line either, which was a very good thing. For some weird reason, that always put her off. It reminded her of her dad, even on fit athletic guys her own age.

She sat there for a moment, wondering what to take a picture of next. Her ear, perhaps, although she'd probably have to get Charlotte to take it.

Her phone beeped. "Send one back," he said. "Please."

Holly looked at it for a moment, grinning. Then sent, "Impatient?"

"Not exactly," he said. "I just hoped...."

She realized. "You want one of my foot?" she sent.

"Would you?"

There was something about the way he just asked that made her wonder. It mattered more than just taking silly photos, she thought. "Is that some kind of big deal?" she sent.

"Would you mind if it was?"

Holly thought. Charlotte had noticed she'd stopped texting, and was looking at her. "What?" Charlotte said. "Did he send his cock?"

"He did already. He wants my foot."

"Oh," Charlotte said, "That's kind of weird."

"Yeah...."

Charlotte grinned. "But?"

"Yeah, pretty much. The but. I don't know if I should."

"Go on."

"I'm thinking about it."

"You've already seen me," he texted to her.

"What's your name?"

A moment's pause. "Ethan."

"Your real name?"

"Simon."

Holly grinned. "What are you going to do if I sent you a photo?" she sent.

"Send one back."

"What are you going to do with the photo?"

No answer.

"Be honest, and I might actually do it."

A pause. "Jerk off," he sent.

Holly looked at that for a moment, then said, "Show me."

There was pause, then another photo of his cock arrived. It was hard, and in his hand. Holly was surprised he'd actually done that. She'd made a deal, though. She took a photo of her foot. Then another, from the side, just to be nice.

She sent them both.

"Thank you," he sent.

"Show me," she sent. Then, so she was clear. "Show me when you're done."

He took a couple of minutes, then sent a picture of his cock with semen on the end. Holly couldn't quite believe what she was looking at.

Holly sat there, staring at it.

After a moment, Charlotte must have noticed her silence. She looked up from the TV and saw Holly's face. "What?" she said.

"I'm going to bed," Holly said, and stood up.

"Dude," Charlotte said. "Show me."

Holly shook her head.

"Fucking show me, you perve."

Holly ran out the room, and into hers, and shut the door.

She couldn't quite decide what to think. It wasn't the sight of his cock itself that was interesting her, it was that he was willing to show her at all. And that he liked her foot. She'd never met anyone into feet before. Or at last, anyone quite that honest.

Her phone beeped. "Are you still there?" he sent.

She thought for a moment, then sent, "For now."

"I'm sorry. I thought you were serious."

Holly sat down on her bed. "I was."

"You're not shocked?"

"No."

"Did you like it?"

"I'm not sure."

Holly sat a little longer, thinking. Then she pointed her phone downwards and took another photo of her feet. On the floor, side by side, just there.

"Text me tomorrow," she said, and switched her phone off.

*

The next evening, Simon texted. Holly had gone into her room to wait, in case he did, and had told Charlotte she was reading. Her phone beeped, and she picked it up. Simon had said hi, and was she still okay to talk?

Holly said yes she was.

"I've never told anyone that before," he sent. "About feet."

"So how do you know you're into it?"

"Porn."

That was pretty honest, she thought. "I like that you're honest," she sent, just so he knew.

"I never have been before," he said. "But..."

"You really like feet?"

"Yes."

"My feet?"

"Yes."

She sent him a picture. Of her left foot. Then, "Like how? From the side, or top, or what?"

"Any. You've done your nails. Since yesterday."

Holly had. Because of this. "Yes," she said.

"It looks nice."

"Thank you."

"You're beautiful."

"Thank you," Holly sent, then thought for a moment. "You mean my feet are, right?"

"All of you that I've seen, but your feet especially."

"Thank you," Holly typed, then suddenly had no idea what else to say. "So you've never told someone before?" she added.

"No."

"But you're glad you told me?"

"I am," he sent, then, "It's working out well." And a smile.

Holly hesitated, then decided she liked him, and was interested what he was into, and she could say no if he got too weird. "Is there anything you want me to do?" she said.

"Do you have shoes?"

"Dude. Of course."

"Put some on."

She looked over at her wardrobe. There were a lot to choose from. "Um," she sent. "Like what?"

"Any. Your favourites."

She wasn't sure exactly which was her actual favourite, and she almost couldn't bring herself to pick one, in case she hurt the others that hadn't been chosen. She didn't want to pick a favourite, but she knew what he meant, and she was also fairly sure knew what he actually had in mind. So she put a Converse boot on her left foot, and a strappy heel on her right, and took a photo of both her feet in the mirror. Then she took another, because the first had showed too much leg. She sent the second one.

"Nice," he sent, and a smiley.

She put heels on both feet, and sent that too. And then wrote, "Go ahead when you're ready."

"Go ahead?"

"Like last night. And send me a picture."

He didn't answer, so she put on a different pair of shoes, and sent him a picture of those too. After a few minutes he sent a picture of himself, semeny again.

She grinned. It was odd, but it was also interesting. What turned people on was just interesting, and it also seemed fairly harmless and strangely fun.

"Tomorrow night?" Holly sent, and then, before he answered, "Bye."

*

"When are you going to ask to see my tits?" Holly said the next night.

"Never. I don't want to offend you."

"Do you want to see them?"

A pause, as if surprised, then he sent, "Can I?"

"Maybe."

"Then perhaps I'll ask one day. When you're sure."

Holly smiled.

"I'd rather see feet though," he sent.

"Over anything?" Holly sent, surprised.

Another pause, then he sent, "I think so."

"You actually had to think about it?"

"Not really."

Holly laughed. She looked at her phone, then sent, "You really would? The feet?"

"I really would."

"You promise?"

"I do. And also, I promise I'll always tell you the truth."

Holly thought. "Except about your name."

"Except about my name, that first time, yes. But from now on, I'll be honest."

Holly thought about trust, and secrets, and what they were doing. In an odd way, she thought, this was actually more intimate than sex would be, more intimate than a one-night stand with a stranger, anyway. He was sharing things he wouldn't tell other people, and she was taking part in those things with him. It was nice what they were doing, in a very weird way, and she actually quite liked it. Even if it seemed mostly about his odd turn-ons.

"Me too," she said, then took a photo of her foot, on her pillow, and sent it. "I'm in my bed," she sent, in case that mattered to him at all.

It seemed to. She got a come photo back almost right away.

*

Holly kept sending photos to Simon. She sent a photo of most of her leg, in a party dress, with her best heels on. She sent a photo of her foot, against her other knee, in pyjamas. She sent one of her bare foot in front her shoe rack, and said, "Pick something for me."

He did, and she sent him a photo of her wearing those.

She was quite enjoying herself.

Charlotte began to tease Holly about the amount of time she was spending in her room, but Holly said she was tired, and busy at work, and that she was ignoring Charlotte.

She sent Simon more pictures. Of her painting her toes, and pulling off her tights. Her liked the first and not the second, and she wasn't quite sure why, when they both seemed a bit fetishy, but she also didn't really care.

He said he'd be late one night because he was going out with friends. She told him to text anyway when he got in, and he did, once she was already in bed. She kicked back the covers and lifted up her leg and sent a picture of her foot against the ceiling.

"That's all," she said. "I'm almost asleep."

"Goodnight," he sent, which was kind of sweet.

He sent two pictures of his come the next night. He said he hadn't known if she left her phone on at night, and hadn't wanted to wake her by texting when she was asleep. She didn't, but it really quite sweet that he'd thought of it. So sweet that she almost wanted to, just to not be woken up. She sent him, "Thank you," and a picture of her toes instead.

They talked more, in between times, and seemed to be getting to know one another. She sent more photos of her feet, too. Pictures from different parts of the house, because she was trying to keep her photos interesting. Her feet in the kitchen, when Charlotte was out. Her feet in front the TV. He teased her about watching trash TV, and said he'd flicked through channels until he found what seemed to be the show she'd had on, and he wasn't impressed, not at all. Then he sent a picture of himself, semeny. He did every time she sent him one of her feet.

Holly had a collection of semen photos. She looked at them, sometimes, and liked having them, but they didn't really turn her on. Not like her feet turned him on. It was more just a fun game, for her, rather than anything hugely sexy. All the same, she liked what they were doing. She didn't quite understand why, but she did. It was oddly friendly, almost. She was letting a stranger wank over photos of her feet, and it wasn't even sexual to her. It was just chatting, getting to know him, and he happened to stop and jerk off every so often as they did.

She liked the game. She liked the idea of knowing something about him that no-one else in the world knew, and she liked how unusual his kink was. As well, she'd always quite liked seeing men come, just because of the curiosity value of the whole squirting outwards thing. She asked him to try and get a photo of that actually happening, but he never quite managed. He was distracted at the wrong time, he said, but he'd keep trying.

As they talked, Holly got an impression of who he was. He seemed gentle. He seemed very grateful, too. He liked this, he said, and he wanted her to be happy doing it. He didn't want to scare her off.

"You're not," she said, and then switched off the phone for the night.

*

"Is there anything you want from me?" Simon asked one night.

"Like what?"

"Pictures? Anything? Anything I can do?"

"Show me your face."

There was a pause, then he sent a selfie picture of him holding the camera out in front of himself. He was young. He had short hair and a straggly beard and looked like a bit of a hipster.

Holly sat there for a moment, looking at his face, then sent one back of her tattoo. It was a iris on her shoulderblade and it was almost enough to identify her. Almost, but not quite.

Not that him knowing her phone number wouldn't identify her too.

"Have you got a girlfriend?" she sent.

"No."

"Boyfriend?"

A smiley. "No. You?"

"No."

A silence. Holly sat there, looking at the phone, and wondering what that exchange actually meant. It felt oddly like that little moment when you said you liked someone, and grinned like an idiot, and they grinned back. It felt like that, except that she was looking at her phone, not a person.

Then again, he was silent too. He was silent for a little too long.

The delay went on.

"Tomorrow," Holly sent suddenly, because that delay was starting to seem actually intimate and personal and she wasn't sure it didn't scare her a little.

*

The next night Holly was out, but Simon said he'd wait up. She came home tipsy, and said she was, and he said good, he'd take advantage.

"Go on," Holly sent.

"I won't really."

"No, go on. What would you actually say to me, if you knew I was going to pass out and not remember it tomorrow?"

Simon didn't answer for a moment. Holly sat there, waiting, expecting something really weird, but it turned out he'd just been typing. "What turns you on?" he wrote. "You know what does for me. So what does for you? What's the secret thing you never told a soul about before but always wanted to try?"

Holly lay there for a moment, trying to decide. "I don't know," she sent.

"That's okay."

"No, I mean, I don't actually know. I'm thinking about it now. I'm deciding."

Simon waited, then sent, "I won't tell a soul."

"I know."

"I won't even mention it to you ever again, if you don't want me to."

"You don't need to do that."

"If you ask me to I won't."

Holly thought. She couldn't quite decide how honest to be. Or how desperately he wanted to know. "I just took a photo of my tits," she sent. "I'll send that, or send the answer. You choose."

"The answer."

"Seriously?"

"Unless that's a really awful thing to say? Like rude?"

"No. Just a surprise."

"Did you really take a photo of your tits?"

Holly smiled at her phone. "Nope."

"So are you going to tell me the answer?"

Holly lay there, thinking.

"Please?" Simon sent.

Holly was in her pyjamas, in loose shorts. She pushed them down, and took a photo of her pussy. A really rude photo, mostly from the top, so not as completely porno as it could be, but still enough he could see her. She looked at it for a moment, unsure whether she should, then sent it.

Then she sent, "Ask me again tomorrow," and switched off her phone.

*

"Thank you," Simon sent the next evening.

"Yeah," Holly said. "I'm still not sure I should have sent that."

"I'm glad you did."

"I'll bet."

"I am."

She lay there for a minute, on her bed, thinking, then she sat up and took off her top. She took a photo of herself in the mirror, carefully close up, so he couldn't see her face. She sent it.

"So you have the set," she sent.

He sent a smiley, then, "So are you going to answer? About what turns you on?"

"I don't know. It's kind of weird."

"Tell me."

"Really weird."

"And right now I'm looking at pictures of your feet."

"Yeah," she sent. "I suppose." That was actually that which had almost decided her.

"I won't be put off you," he sent. "I promise. If that's what's worrying you."

"You say that now," she sent. "But..."

"You just trusted me with pictures of you. Of all of you."

"Yeah," she sent. "But no..." Somehow a picture of her pussy was actually less personal than him knowing her biggest turn-on. "And not a picture of my face."

"Please?"

She looked at her phone. She wondered if it was sensible to tell him. Until now this had all been fun, and she was enjoying it, but until now she hadn't really been risking anything. Just photos of her feet.

She thought. She wasn't sure she wanted him to know, but then again, it probably wasn't that bad if he did. She didn't know him, she'd probably never meet him, and he was most likely on the other side of the country anyway. And it would actually be nice to actually tell someone, she thought. She never had before.

"Do you know what pegging is?" she sent.

He didn't answer for a moment. Long enough to worry her, to make her think she'd disgusted him so much that even her feet wouldn't get him back.

"I do now," he sent. "Cool."

The pause had been him searching the internet, she realized.

"Cool?" she sent. "Meaning what...?"

"Yeah, cool. It's different, but..."

"Different?"

"Interesting."

"Yeah right," she sent. "So you'd let me do it to you, would you?"

"I might."

She lay there for a moment, unsure what to think. She was surprised. She was a little excited. Finally, she was actually turned on. After all this, with him, that was what had got to her excited.

She wasn't quite sure what to say, so she decided to stop and think. "I'm going to sleep," she sent. "Tomorrow night, okay?"

"Goodnight."

She looked at her phone, then sent, "And don't mention this again until I do. And don't reply to this."

He didn't. She lay there for a while, deciding whether to get herself off, but then went to sleep without starting. She was actually a little unsettled that she'd told him, and he hadn't been shocked.

Perhaps she should have told someone sooner.

*

Holly and Simon texted again over the next few nights, and she sent more photos of her feet, and one of her tits, but she only got semen photos back when she sent feet. She was starting to think he was actually telling her the truth about what he liked. He also didn't mention pegging again, which she was glad of.