Me and Jack
I've been out with friends all evening. We've gone straight from work, been to the movies, had a great dinner and gone for a few more drinks. The night has been fun, and I'm thinking it's probably time to go home when I feel a buzzing in the pocket of my trousers, and get the iPhone out to see who's got in touch.
It's a number I don't recognise, and there's a picture attached. I move away from the group at the bar to get some privacy and open the message to see the picture better.
I don't recognise the person in the photograph, possibly because she is wearing a rubber hood. Her lips are painted deep crimson, her mouth is slightly open, and her eyes are closed, probably deliberately. The eye shadow is dark, and she has long, false eyelashes. Below the picture is a short message, "Mmmmmm....."
I'm immediately excited, but have no idea who it's from. So I'm caught between lust and ignorance. What can I do?
Send a reply, I suppose. So I compose a text, keeping the language as neutral as I can. "Hello. You look fascinating, but I don't think we've met. How did you get my number? Are you sure you've sent this to the right person?" I press send and rejoin my friends at the bar but moments later, my pocket buzzes again.
I step aside once more and this time, the picture is of a very full breast, poking out of a zip in a latex catsuit. The nipple is very erect and like the lips, it's been painted a deep crimson colour too. This time the text says, "Oh yes, I know who you are Jack. A friend told me ALL about you... you dirty fucker."
No sooner have I read this than a third message arrives. This time, the camera has travelled further down the body, and the shot focuses on a pussy pump, sitting over what even on a phone picture I can see are a pair of very engorged and pumped up labia. The pump is steamy inside, but I can see the deep pink of a swollen cunt. The message below is simple. "I'm waiting for you..." followed by an address I've never been to, but I recognise the part of the city; it's one I pass through every day on my way to work.
By now, my cock is beginning to respond to this teasing and I realise I'll have to make my excuses and leave. I plead an early start, leave the bar, hail a taxi, and heart pumping, I sit back and compose a reply. "On my way..."
When the cab drops me off, I'm in a little cul de sac of thirties bungalows, with their identical front gardens and wrought iron gates. It's about 10.30 and from every living room comes the glow of a table lamp or the flicker of a TV set. Except one. The one I've been sent to.
The lights on the ground floor are all off, and the only light is a faint glow from an upstairs room. I assume it's a bedroom, and the glow is an ultraviolet blue, as though someone's using a sunbed. When I reach the front door, just as I reach for the bell, I notice that the door is slightly ajar.
I walk in, and lying on the hall floor is a polaroid photograph. This time it's a long shot, of a latex clad body lying on a bed, legs spread and with a spreader bar between the ankles. Written on the margin of the polaroid is another message. "I'm upstairs"
I need no further prompting. I close the door behind me and walk up the wooden stairs, trying to make as little noise as possible. On the landing there are four doors. One is slightly open and from it comes that blue light I saw from the street. I can hear music, and I can faintly smell a combination of perfume, talcum powder, latex and a woman's sex.
I walk into the room. There's a TV on a small ledge in the top left hand corner of the room that I can see as I come in, and on it, I can see a hooded woman clad in black latex slowly penetrate herself with a large, thick cream coloured double dildo. As I come round the door and look to my right, I can see where the image has come from. She's lying on the bed, her eyes still closed just as they were in the first picture.
The rubber hood has a long blonde ponytail coming out from the crown. Her breasts are both exposed, and the nipples are standing proud. High, clear perspex slut heels push her ankles and knees up. Her legs are spread, the zip of her catsuit is open, and she takes the free end of the dildo, and rubs lube over it before bending it back down, and slowly, centimetre by centimetre, she pushes it into her arse as she opens her eyes, and says, "What kept you, Jack? I was beginning to think I wasn't being interesting enough..."
To be continued. Perhaps by you? xxxx