Page 62 of Trick Play
I lift my chin in acknowledgment. “Cool. Have fun.” Simon rarely goes out when we’re on the road, and never without significant encouragement from me, so I know he’s doing this to give me some time alone in the room. Which probably means that when he gets back, I’ll need to go for a walk or something to return the favor. And I’ll just pretend that I don’t know he’s sexting with my sister.
But for now, I’ll take advantage of having the room to myself.
I strip down to my boxer briefs when I get back, grateful to be out of my game day suit, and settle onto the bed. Palming my growing erection, pulling the fabric taut to show the outline of what I wish I could give Piper, I snap a few pics, adjusting the angle and how close I am to the light to get the best shot. I don’t send it yet. But I have it at the ready so I don’t have to adjust lighting and compose the shot on the fly.
Me: Hey babe. What are you up to?
I lazily stroke myself as I wait for her answer, getting stupidly excited about sexting with my … with Piper.
I don’t think I’ve ever been excited about sexting before. I mean, sure, I’ve had chicks send me nudes, and who doesn’t like seeing a nice pair of tits? But it’s never had this edge of anticipation, this thrill. It’s not just the prospect of release, but it’s the connection with her that makes it better.
Piper: Ellie and I are watching a movie.
A fine thread of disappointment winds through me. Of course she’s doing something with my sister. She’s at my parents’ house keeping Ellie company for the weekend. I shouldn’t be surprised. Iknowthat she’s not still lounging in my bed in my house just waiting for me. But that’s the image I have of her in my head regardless.
Me: Can you get some privacy for a little bit? Or would that be weird?
Piper: I mean … probably. Why? What did you have in mind?
I send her the best shot. It’s not a true dick pic. Not yet. I mean, yeah, my dick is in it, but it’s not uncovered.
Piper: OMG. Warn me before you send that kind of thing. Your sister is sitting right next to me trying to see what we’re texting.
I slap my forehead and cover my face with my hand.
Me: Well go somewhere else. Don’t let her see. I don’t creep on Simon’s texts with her. That’s weird.
Piper: Lol. She left.
Me: Good. Send me a pic of what you’re wearing.
She sends a selfie of her unmade up face, her hair loose, an oversized T-shirt covering her upper body.
Me: Now take off your top and send another.
I continue lazily stroking myself while I wait for her response. When it takes her a few minutes, my excitement grows, my dick getting harder, my hand moving a little faster. She has fantastic tits, and getting a pic of them to keep on my phone would be epic. Especially if she’s not wearing a bra …
Piper: No
That has me stopping short, pushing myself up to sitting, my aching dick abandoned and neglected while I stare at the two letter response. No? Why not? I type and delete multiple variations of that question, not sure how to ask what I want to know without coming across like a demanding asshole. Texting doesn’t exactly allow for a lot of nuance. And I’m not trying to be demanding, even if my last request maybe came across that way. But she tends to like it when I tell her what to do in bed, and if it’s something she’s not comfortable with, she never just gives me a flat refusal. We talk, adjust, accommodate. So her no, just no, catches me off guard, and I want to know what’s going on, what I can do, how we can adjust, but it’s hard to communicate that in text.
Finally, I give up and call her. I’d rather hear her voice anyway. I figured sexting might be safer noise-wise since she’s with my sister at my parents’ house, but I’m good with phone sex if she’s willing to do that instead.
She answers on the third ring, which seems weird, because isn’t her phone in her hand? We were literally just texting.
“Hey.” Her voice is short. Curt.
My brows draw even closer together. “Piper? What’s wrong?”
She sighs, a long, slow release of breath. “Nothing. It’s just … I don’t … do that.”
“Do … what, exactly?”
“Send pics. Topless pics. I don’t … I don’t send nudes.”
“Ever?”
“No.”
