Nisan 17, 2024

The Ex:Files, pt 6: The only good dick pic

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The Ex:Files, pt 6: The only good dick pic
Listen up boys.

As I say in my profile, if I want to see a picture of your cock, I’ll ask. I’ll be honest, I get a little flutter of excitement when I see how many messages you’ve sent me since I was last logged in. When I click on the little envelope, I’m thrilled when you’ve left me a perfectly worded filthy message telling me what’s on your mind. I’m delighted when you’ve left me a hot sexy photo, video or gif featuring sexy guys & gals looking hot or doing dirty deeds. When I get messages like those my heart skips, my mouth goes dry & my pussy goes wet.

Then there are the times I open my messages & you’ve sent me – badly lit close up of your bulging, disembodied cock. And you know what happens? I think ‘ewww’ and usually just press the block button. Nine times out of ten it is not sexy, it’s not attractive. It looks like a shaved rat that has been tied in a knot by a balloon modeler. I’m sorry to break this news to you. Don’t get me wrong, I like dicks. I like looking at pictures of dicks, but there are two things here. The first is an obvious and important one, a Public Service Announcement:

It’s intrusive. It’s a violation. It doesn’t make you a stud or a playa, it marks you out as a creep who doesn’t give a shit about your partner’s consent or wishes & believe me there is nothing less sexy or attractive than that. It’s true here on a porn site & so it is unquestionably, undoubtedly true everywhere else on the internet. Do. Not. Send. Strange. Women. Dick. Pics. Without. Asking. First. Can I be any clearer?

The second, much less important reason is this: Around 99 out of every 100 dick picks are not attractive or sexy. I’m sorry to break that to you, I realise you guys want women to look at your dick pic & think “ooh, yeah, that’s sexy, I really want to suck that one.” But we don’t, Most of the time we look at your pic & think “OK now I need to bleach my eyeballs.”

There. All of that was by way of introduction. But let me tell you it is possible to send a dick pic in a way that is incredibly sexy. And I know because not so very long ago it happened to me. Let me explain. And yes, this is an entirely true story.


When I awoke, F had got up early and let himself out. I was naked beneath the quilt, still feeling a soft aching throb in my cunt from our hard extended fuck last night. I ran my fingertips over the sensitive spots where he’d nibbled & bit just deliciously too hard for comfort, I thought about masturbating again before realising my need for a cup of tea was more urgent. I surveyed the chaos of my Saturday night outfit strewn randomly all over the bedroom floor. It was several hours later before my phone pinged.

Hey. Last night was amazing.

– Hmmm. Yes it was. Woke up so horny. Want to come back here?

Sorry, working away until Saturday now. Meet in Vanda’s again? Same time?

– Not sure illegal bahis I can contain myself that long LOL. Might have to start without you.

Just in case you forget what I look like haha.

[Beneath the message was a photo, taken in a fully length mirror with a camera phone. He was fully dressed in a tight t-shirt and I swear he was puffing his chest out and sucking in his tummy, because he doesn’t normally look that ripped. But damn. He looked FIRE.]

– OK so now I will definitely have to start without you.

I’ll send you some more. When I’m ready. In the meantime, I’ll be imagining you starting without me :heart_eyes:


I was back to my usual routine, managing to get some work done without totally obsessing about sex all the time. I can do that occasionally – honest. Then some time late afternoon my phone sprang to life, notification: “Incoming photo”

No text this time. Just a photo, obviously taken the exact same moment as the previous one, almost identical but this time he was pulling his t-shirt up over his abs, up towards his left nipple. And yeah, OK, this was fine. Perhaps I’d never fully appreciated his muscle tone before. I was seeing it now and liking it. A lot.

– Phwoarr.

You like?

– I love.

Want to see more?

– Oh yes.

Soon, if you’re good.

– Oh you tease.


You at work?

– Yep. With clients.

In a meeting now?

– Yep. Can’t chat

Is your phone visible on the desk?

– Yes.

Hold it under the desk so only you can see.

[He is still standing in front of the mirror in his jeans. His t-shirt is off but thrown casually over one shoulder. His belt is unfastened, hanging loose down his legs & the top button of his jeans is open, just hinting at what is to come next]

I’m sitting in a corporate briefing room while a creative executive babbles beside a Powerpoint screen. Suddenly I have no idea what they are talking about. I’m gazing at my topless boyfriend & trying to ignore how my pussy seems to be dissolving inside my knickers. I am meant to be learning about the new marketing campaign. All I am thinking about is how I want to run my hands over his strong torso, sliding downwards across his chest, his stomach, lower, how I want him to hold me, push me up against the wall, touch me, take me…. oh god.


I woke up thinking about his pictures. Wondering what would arrive next. Before I even get out of bed my fingertip has drifted to my clit. I close my eyes & imagine him standing there, stripping off slowly, just for me. Within minutes, seconds maybe, my legs are clamping shut around my hand, my hips are bucking, thrusting and my whole body is trembling, shuddering with sudden orgasm. Today I text first. It is 7.30am. He works nights so I know he will be asleep.

– I just made myself cum thinking about you stripping naked for me.

Mmm. Good morning! You do realise I do that pretty much every day?

– Really? Do you. OMG that’s hot.

You just woke me up and now I am hard for you.

– Hmmmm. Show bedava bonus veren siteler me.

You want to see my cock? See my big hard cock?

– Yes. Yes I do.

You’ll have to wait for that one.

[He is standing topless, his jeans opened, one hand taking the photo and the other pushing down his lower belly, into the waistband of his boxers. I think that if I was where I wanted to be, on my knees between his feet, that hand would be resting on the back of my head while I…. oh god, how long would it be now until I see him?]

A busy day, full of appointments, early evening drinks date with my bezzie. I can’t resist telling her what has been going on. She begs me to see the pics. It’s naughty. Very naughty. I shouldn’t. But I can’t resist showing her the most recent. She purses her lips and lets blow a low, slow whistle.
“I’m not sure this is appropriate for me to say but he would TOTALLY get it.”
“Oh believe me babe,” I reply with a grin. “He’s going to totally get it.”

The photo doesn’t arrive until late that evening. By then I’d been drinking with bff for hours and was home, getting ready for bed. But I know I need to see him. I was about to give up when it pings.

[He’s dropped his jeans now & is standing, slightly side on to the mirror, in just his tight shorts. I can see the bulge of his cock forming a shape]

– OMG this is the hottest yet

Glad you like. It’s all for you.

– You better believe it. I want you so bad. I want to hold that body, pull those shorts down,
run my hands everywhere. I want you right now.

Touch yourself

– I am fingering my cunt as I look at your pic. I’m so wet already.

Tell me what you want to do

– I want to reach into your pants, pull out your cock, wrap my lips around it & suck it.

You’ll have to wait until Saturday. Are you naked? 🙂

– Not quite.

Strip for me. I want you naked, your big gorgeous tits out for me.

– Naked for you now. Touching my nipples. Imagining you sucking on them.

Send me a pic? I want to see them

– You’ll have to wait until Saturday

Damn. I guess I deserved that LOL.

– Too damned right LOL.


I’m not normally a fussy dresser, not one of those women that spends all week choosing an outfit for a night out, especially with a regular / semi-regular boyfriend like F. But I can’t stop thinking about tomorrow night and the only way I can focus those thoughts seems to be to zero in on my dress. I spend hours that afternoon trying on different combinations of blouses, skirts and underwear. I’m halfway through a change when it comes in

He is still in his shorts – just – standing beyond side on, almost with his back to the mirror but with his shorts pulled down at the back over his buttocks. His bum is looking lovely, even if the whole thing is quite homoerotic. He looks like a gay porn star. I tell him that.

I’m taking that as a compliment, that OK?

– Oh yes. That was *definitely* a compliment.

See you tomorrow. yatırımsız deneme bonusu Can’t wait.


I wake up late, but still have about nine unbearable hours until I see him. I’m so horny I could burst. I reach for my laptop & instead of hitting Facebook & checking my emails I go straight to a porn site. Just checking my messages, I tell myself, before browsing aimlessly through the latest uploads. I resist the temptation to make myself cum, not yet. I can wait, I want to wait. A message:

Ready for later?

– Don’t think I’ve ever been more ready for anything

I still have a couple of pics for you.

– When do I get to see them?

One now, one later. Deal?

– Deal

[The shorts have come off. He is standing with his right hand holding his phone and his left gripping the back of his neck. My eyes are caught first by the glare of the flash but then drift downwards to linger. His cock is semi-erect, curving downwards but swollen and thick, just begging to be sucked.]

– Fucking hell babe. I want you so bad.

Hold that thought. I’m on my way back to town. See you in Vanda’s at 8.

Saturday night

It is precisely 8:09pm. I know, because I am looking at my phone. The bar is busy, I’d bought a couple of drinks and been lucky to find a little table for two beside a pillar, and pulled the other close to mine. I’m probably using it as a bit of a shield. I hate sitting in bars on my own at the best of times and now I suddenly feel self-conscious, wondering who has noticed that I’m wearing thigh-high skirt with sheer black stockings held up by a sus belt, only the flimsiest g-string I owned as a sop to modesty. Even my white silk blouse was risque, about a size too small meaning it pulled tight across my big soft boobs, becoming see-through enough to make out the contours of my lacy bra. Partly out of habit, I picked up my phone & started browsing through my messages.

That thread, those photos. The things we’d said. I discreetly held my phone below the edge of the table and hoping no one was peeping over my shoulder as I scrolled up and down, reliving every shudder of anticipation I’d felt all week. That was when my phone beeped.


I licked my lips. Took a deep breath. Clicked to open. And there it was. No full length mirror this time, but a close up, side on shot of F’s cock at its finest. Fully erect and upright. Standing there proud, waiting to be stroked, sucked, sat on. God I wanted it right there and then. I wanted it so bad. I wanted it more than I had ever wanted anyone’s cock. I had to have it. I don’t know how long I stared at it, a minute or two perhaps, but when I finally broke away and looked up, there he was. Standing in front of me, grinning. Still wearing the same tight t-shirt and jeans that I now recognised so well. I smiled politely and stood up, kissing him softly on the cheek, then hugging him as I put my mouth to his earlobe and whispered:

“I want you so fucking bad right now. We are going to finish these drinks quickly then I’m taking you back to my place and I am ripping these clothes off your body and fucking your brains out. Does that sound good to you babe?”

He grinned wickedly and replied “I take it you opened the pic then?”


And THAT, my dear friends, is how to send a woman a dick pic.

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