I beat my meat three times that day, looking over every inch of that photograph. I really liked the way Jess' breasts were thrust toward the camera. You could see all the little bumps on her swollen nipples. Pete must have a really good camera. Scrolling down, you could see the way her pussy lips were spread wide by his cock. But the thing I liked best was her face, the complete ecstasy she was in as Pete snapped this picture of her from a few feet above. I imagined what it must be like to be him, completely owning this beautiful woman, pounding the shit out of her until she was so far gone she didn't even care if you took pictures of her. Maybe she didn't even know.
I thought about how she was feeling in that moment, with that big dick inside her, pushing in and out of her, driving her crazy. I thought about how she reacted to my dick, how she didn't even want it inside her. I looked down at my sad little dick in my hand, erect and yearning to fuck, but not big enough to satisfy her. It would never be big enough. The shame of it was too much. That's when my little dick exploded, pumping cum in spurts high into the air. Ashamed, I wiped up my spunk and closed my computer, vowing not to repeat the experience. It was just too humiliating.
And yet, a few hours later, the photo was calling to me again. I sat down again and read the email, thinking about how Pete must feel, getting to fuck my girlfriend with his big dick, getting to own her. And, let's face it, own me.
I didn't know how to respond to Pete's email. I mean, I had no idea what to say. I really, really wanted to see the video, but the idea of asking Pete for it was just so humiliating. He had just fucked my girlfriend, and he knew I didn't get to fuck her. He knew he got to have a part of her I never did. That's what made me want to see the video so bad. I had never seen my girlfriend getting fucked in real life.
Later that day, Pete emailed again. "WHASSUP, DICKLESS?" was the subject. I really was starting to hate this guy. I quickly looked to see if there was an attachment. No dice. Reluctantly, I read the email: