The Baddest Bad Boy

Caitlin would be proud of me. She always tries to be positive, telling me that I’m beautiful, but somehow the words don’t stick. If she knew what I’m about to do, she’d be cheering support and encouragement.

Slowly, I strip out of my clothes, tossing them carelessly to the floor, and climb onto my bed. The lighting is surprisingly good in my new bedroom and I’m careful to stay out of any sightlines so the neighbors don’t see.

Then, I open my camera app and take a couple test photos. I start with just my face and then slowly begin to incorporate my breasts. They’re enormous and creamy, with pink-tipped nipples. I tug at one playfully as jolts run down from my tit to my pussy. Oooh, that feels good! Snapping another pic, I wet my fingers and circle my nips so that they appear glossy and wet in the photos. Perfect.

But I want to get a full-body shot too because I’ve been working hard at the gym, and this is the time to memorialize my efforts. Shifting a bit, I manage to hold the phone far enough away that I can get my entire torso, all the way from my naughty smile down to my knees. My lushness is on display, from those big tits to the pink slit between my legs which is already gleaming wetly.

God, this is making me so hot!

I throw my head back, moaning a bit while stroking myself between the thighs. A man’s face pops unbidden into my mind, and I sigh again. I know who it is: Troy Simpson, Caitlin’s brother in law. I met him only once, ages ago at my friend’s house, and he got my number but never called. To say I was disappointed would be an understatement. Devastated is more like it.

But that doesn’t stop me from dreaming, and at the moment, Troy’s black hair, blue eyes, and chiseled features come to mind. He’s godawful gorgeous, with broad shoulders, a wide chest and long legs to boot. He’s got to be at least six foot four, with a devilish grin and a glint in those sapphire eyes. I wonder what Troy is doing right now because I definitely wish he were here with me.

My hand wanders between my legs, toying with my hard nub. Ooooh, that feels good! Wetness gushes into my palm and I giggle breathily as I snap a photo of the naughtiness. This is another thing I rarely had time for at home. I could only ever get myself off during my ten-minute showers and certainly not with a camera in hand.

But it’s not enough. I need more, so I prop my camera up against a picture frame, setting it to automatic. Then I turn around and lean forward, pushing my big bottom in the air so that the lens has a view of my pink pussy, swollen and wet.

“You’d like to use a toy on me, wouldn’t you?” I whisper, pretending that it’s Troy in the room with me. “You’d like to put that big rubber one in me, right? The black one that’s ten inches? Oh no? You want to put your cock in instead?”

I close my eyes and picture the gorgeous pilot as I rub my stiff nub. I wiggle my hips, spreading my legs even wider before pulling my pussy open so that the camera can see the dripping pink of my interior walls. It’s obscene, but I’m the only one who will see these pics, so it’s okay. I toss my head back again and moan.

“Oh, fuck yeah, Troy. You like watching me touch myself?”

With my other hand, I squeeze and tease my nipples. They’ve always been extremely sensitive and I can almost see his dark head bending to take one between his lips.

“Oh, God, I’m not going to last long, if you keep doing that. You want me to come?”

I pretend like the man in my head responds, begging me to finish myself in front of him.

“Fuck, I’m coming!”

My entire body shakes as a violent orgasm overtakes me. My head drops back as I let out a full-throated scream, my pussy convulsing hard as wetness gushes from between my legs. I shake, shimmy, and holler until the energy drains from me and then collapse on my bed, my phone still photographing the incredible interlude.

Finally, I rouse and prop myself up half-way on my elbows. Wow, that was amazing, and I can do that whenever I want now. Hell, I’ll be doing that every night, or twice a night, if I feel like it. The only problem? I just wish that Troy Simpson were here with me because my climaxes would be ten times more powerful, and twenty times more satisfying. But it’s okay. The wetness between my thighs is warm and sticky and I smile naughtily. Somehow, I’ll find a way to get to know him. The question is how?