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Yes.
You better be wearing more than when you’re in bed with me.
So naked right now.
Don’t make me call him.
I dare you.
I switch over to the phone icon and call my brother’s phone. It rings a few times when a text notification appears at the top of my screen. He’s likely asleep and hooked up to his CPAP, so I hang up the call and click the notification.
Are you serious?
What are you actually wearing?
One of your shirts and a black thong.
You’re so full of shit.
A picture comes through with the covers pulled back, her hand lifting her shirt enough to reveal black lace and toned bare legs. A growl settles in my chest, my cock jumping at the sight. What I wouldn’t give to rip those off and taste her right now.
You’re sleeping next to him wearing that?
He hasn’t touched me, if that’s what you’re wondering.
Have you touched yourself?
No. That’s your job.
Do you have your earbuds handy?
Yes.
Put them in.
I give her a moment and click the microphone in the message to send her a voice note, keeping my voice low and sultry. “You’ve been a naughty wife, Jaclyn, wearing that to bed with a man who isn’t your husband.”
Should I take it off?
“The next time I see you, I’ll strip them off with my teeth. I don’t care if we’re in the middle of the National Mall; I’ll claim what’s mine.”
I’ll be sure not to wear panties from now on, just in case I run into you.
Jaclyn sends me a photo similar to the last, except her fingers are an inch into her waistband.
“Did I say you could touch yourself?”
You didn’t say I couldn’t.
A moment later, she sends another photo without her lacy thong, her thighs splayed wide, bare pussy on display. It’s a ridiculously dangerous game we’re playing with Chris next to her, but I fucking love the idea of her touching herself, my name quietly passing her lips as she comes.
“Delete that photo. No one sees that beautiful cunt but me.”
Deleted.
“That’s my girl. When was the last time you came?”
With you.
