Page 20 of Sexting My Ex's Dad
“Stellaaa!” Anastasia exclaims, attempting to steady me. Her words are slightly slurred, a testament to her own part in tonight’s festivities. “You okay, girl?”
“Y-yeah,” I stammer, forcing a smile onto my face. I try to focus on her, but it’s a losing battle. “Just need to sit down for a minute.”
“Uh-huh,” she says, guiding me towards the couch. I collapse onto the cushions, their softness providing comfort in my current state. My body feels heavy and my head aches. I can’t remember the last time that I’d gotten this drunk. My sophomore year of college maybe.
“Thanks, Ana,” I mumble, my voice barely audible. My long, wavy brown hair falls in front of my face, creating a curtainbetween us. She pushes it back behind my ear with a gentle touch.
“Y’know, you’re….better than a boyfriend.”
She giggles. “I know right… you want some water or anything?”
I shake my head, immediately regretting the motion as the room starts spinning again. “No, I just need to lie down.”
I turn on my side, tugging at Anastasia’s throw pillows to create a makeshift pillow fortress around my throbbing head. My body feels like it’s made of lead, and I can’t shake the sensation that I’m sinking into the couch.
It’s just the alcohol. It’s just the alcohol. Repeating it in my head doesn’t help.
“Stella... you sure you don’t want some water?” Anastasia asks again, her voice laden with concern.
“Positive,” I mumble, my focus on the impossible task of finding a comfortable position. After what feels like an eternity of tossing and turning, I finally settle onto my back, one arm draped over my eyes to block out the harsh light of the room.
“Okay, holler if you need anything,” Anastasia says softly before retreating to her bedroom, leaving me alone in the dimly lit living room.
I exhale slowly, trying to steady my breathing. My hand slips into the pocket of my jeans and brushes against my phone. An idea takes root, and despite my foggy state, curiosity gets the better of me. I pull it out and squint at the screen, my bleary eyes struggling to adjust to the brightness.
I’ll just check one more time. And if he hasn’t responded, then I’ll let it go.
“Let’s see...” I mutter to myself, swiping through notifications, until I spot a text from Paul – Anastasia’s brother. My heart skips a beat as I remember the steamy photo I’d sent him earlier tonight, a bold move fueled by liquid courage. With trembling fingers, I tap on the message and read his response, already bracing myself for the worst case scenario.
Damn Stella. You shouldn’t send stuff like that to a man…it’ll tempt them to do things they shouldn’t.
My cheeks flush with heat,and I can’t help but grin at his words. Paul has always been flirtatious, but I didn’t expect him to react so strongly to the photo. A thrill runs through me, as I ponder how to reply. The alcohol still coursing through my veins seems to cast aside any lingering doubts or fears.
Maybe I want that man to be tempted.
I hit send before I can rethink my decision, surrendering to this newfound boldness. My heart races as I wait for his response, feeling more alive than I have in months.
Not even Owen has ever made me this excited.
A new message from Paul appears on the screen, making my pulse quicken.
Do you know the things a man like me can do to you?
A man like him?
I bite my lip, considering my response. This conversation is intoxicating, sending shivers down my spine. I don’t remember Paul being this blunt, but I want more.
How about you tell me then?
If only you could see all of the things I was imagining.
My breath catches as I read his message. The heat between us seems to build with each exchange, and I feel an ache deep within me – a yearning for his touch, his warmth. It’s undeniable now; I want him.
Then don’t imagine. Look back at the picture I sent you.
I’ve looked at that picture more times than I can count. I want more.
In the bathroom. No big deal.
