Page 11 of The Roommate Subtext

He replied after only a moment.

Do you think you can trust me?

She didn’t have to trust him, not in any way that mattered. It would be different if he were coming to her house to tie her up; these were only words on a screen. They didn’t matter. I don’t know, she replied. But you don’t know who I am.

The Pimpernel wrote back: And you don’t know who I am. Like the girl in the story. She has to approach a random man at the bar and ask him to make her come, and hope he’s the right one. Another pause, then: Would you like to be her, Rose?

Fuck, she was wet. She wasn’t supposed to be getting affected. It was research. Right?

She typed her reply. I like to fantasize. I don’t want to experience it. She paused before sending, then deleted that last sentence and typed: I don’t know if I’d like to experience it.

Do you have any sex toys?

This was moving out of the hypothetical. When she’d sent that first message, she hadn’t thought about how far she’d really go.

But she was going to play along.

A vibrator. Two dildos.

Take a picture of your toys for me.

Here it was. Soon he was going to ask her for nudes.

I’m not going to send you pictures of me, she wrote back.

You don’t have to send any pictures at all, he replied. But it would help if I could see them. Nothing identifying in the picture. Just the toys.

Well … she could do that. Maggie took her toys out of her nightstand and looked them over. She hadn’t been using them very much lately. The vibrator was one of those small lipstick-style vibes, deceptively strong for its size. She’d done her research on that, same as with the dildos: as a woman of discerning tastes, she wasn’t about to buy some generic jelly rubber monstrosity from a novelty store. The dildos were both silicone, one average-sized and one somewhat larger.

She laid the toys side by side on her plain white duvet and took the photo, then sent it.

Those look like good toys.

I have good taste, she replied. Nothing cheap goes near these bits.

What are you hoping for from chatting with me? the Pimpernel asked.

Maggie’s thumbs hovered over the phone while she thought. She couldn’t tell him the real reason for her interest, or their conversation would be over for good. I’m single, she typed instead. And my sex life is boring. I can’t remember when I was last excited about sex in any form. But the idea of this excites me.

She sent it, then stared at the words. That was all true as well.

Are you going to touch yourself tonight, Rose, and think of that story?

Another text that she could hear being spoken to her. It was hot, but she was a bit disappointed that he clearly wasn’t going to go further with her tonight. She might as well be honest. Yes.

I have homework for you. Read another one of the stories before you come. Find one that really turns you on and make note of why. I’ll ask you for specifics the next time we talk, and I’ll expect you to have answers.

His tone invited no disagreement, which was also surprisingly sexy.

As if reading her mind, he sent another message. If you don’t like how we’re playing, you can ask me to change or stop at any time. I expect you to let me know what you do and don’t like. Do you agree?

They were making plans to play in the future. Her excitement was more than professional interest. Yes, she wrote.

Good. I hope we can have some fun together.

What about you? she asked. Are you going to get off tonight thinking of me?

Yes.