We Sexted So Much It Got Sexy

sext
Eli Christman

I remember how it started. She sent me a picture of her sexy breasts. I sent her a picture of my sexy penis. Then it got so sexy for us.

That night, I went to bed alone to watch an old episode of It’s Always Sunny In Philadelphia as I ate leftover pizza in bed and asked for more.

“But please,” I sexted, “if you could, some of your ass as well.”

It was such a sexy part of her. I still like to imagine being near it, giving it a sexy home. It fit in my lap like a Lego and my hand, oh boy, I’d be rubbing it and she’d be slapping up against me, like we were two sexy animals.

But when we were apart, oh how we sent sexy photos. She would sometimes even send her buns and I would sometimes send my scrotum (though only by accident if I had the camera below and pointed it up toward my face). I remember another time when she sent me just the sexiest text. Though I have to wonder now, how did she do it? Maybe she secretly worked as a contortionist. Because I could see of all her sexy bottom and the top of her thick sexy legs and how sexy that was. Maybe her roommate helped? I don’t know, but it was so sexy it made me lose my sexiness. I was so glad to have a wood floor.

There were more sexy times. I sometimes get a twinge thinking of them all. Her breasts, how awesome they were. I had not seen breasts like hers before, and she sent me sexy pictures of them. As if I was a little boy in the 1880s given chests upon chests of Playboys, and somehow those Playboys were buried underground behind my family’s mud house in a bunker. But her sexy chest, for some reason I told her I would delete it from my phone. Worse, I actually did. I took a match to my underground bunker. I am the worst arsonist in the history of time.

I only knew her for a short time, but we used to sext. She had red hair and wore glasses and worked for Garrison Keillor, so I hope she didn’t show him our sexy texts. Oh, who am I kidding? It would’ve been so much more exciting if she had. Better yet, what if Garrison Keillor himself had taken the photos, how sexy would that have been? Someone could write a whole sexy news story for NPR about the time Garrison Keillor was a photographer for my lady’s sexy photo shoot. How he regaled her with tales of lutefisk and the Lutheran pastor having a little bit too much wine before the service and championship State Fair pies as he took those sexy pics. I always loved the outfits either she or Garrison Keillor picked out. Those sheer tights and stretchy skirts and American Apparel blouses. But even if Garrison Keillor wasn’t her sexy photographer, that ass, I was so glad to see it when I opened my sexy flip phone. For a time, her butt was my very own prairie home companion.

She and I once sexted. It began watching movies with our friends as we touched each other under a shared blanket. She grasped my penis and I played around with her vagina and it was so sexy, believe you me. So exciting when other people are right there but they don’t know you’re being sexy. On and on we went like that. Then I moved away and we didn’t talk. But we started up again one day and wow did things get sexy once more. She had the roundest buns I had ever encountered, the kind that make man a tear up from sexy overload, the kind she must have admired many times in her mirror. She was so short and biked everywhere, maybe that’s what made them so compact and desirable and sexy. I don’t know, I was just so glad to get to know them, happy to have them in my flip phone. What a keepsake for me, just as my erect penis and the sexy pubes shooting off around it is for her.

And when the next one and I sexted, it was like sexy fireworks. I sent a picture of my white ass, looking even more white when compared to my somewhat tan back, as she sent me her buns inside of new white underwear with black polka dots and a ribbon tie in the back. Sometimes she even added video of her being sexy with herself, and that was like asking for the moon and being given the sexiest sun and stars.

Oh, how more of us sexted. Pictures of my penis, as if holding a confidentiality agreement, as she sends a picture of her sexy self in so many sexy ways.

Sexting, what a thing it is. Every one us can buy a device and point it at ourselves to capture a sexy image then send that image to someone else who is interested in seeing a sexy image, and that sexiness can inspire them to get undressed so they can capture a sexy image of themselves in a sexy way. Then they send it back, and oh how that creates even more sexiness. Back and forth it goes like that, on and on forever, until the sexiness is so much it makes a baby. The end. TC mark

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