My boyfriend, Jason, begged me for the hundredth time to send him a flirty text this week. I’d always been weary of sexting. What if someone saw? I’d spent the morning texting with him. Jason had been gone for a week and wasn’t expected back for at least another. I was feeling kind of naughty, so I sent him a text.
*“I’m wearing that baby doll nightie you like.”*
There, that should make him happy! I can’t believe I did it. I collapse onto the bed giggling, clutching my phone waiting for him to text back. I wait a few minutes. Nothing. Where is he? He shouldn’t be asleep, it’s still early in England. I wait two more minutes before I decide to send him another message. I pull down the top of the nightie to show a bit of cleavage and take a selfie. Maybe this will get his attention. I hit send. Five minutes go by, nothing. I sit up in bed cross-legged. What has gotten into that man? First he bugs me to sext with him, now he’s not responding. I try one last time. I fluff the pillows against the headboard and lay back. I can’t believe I’m doing this! I slide off my thong to bare my freshly shaved kitty. I pull up the nightie slightly, spread my legs and snap a picture. Send. I wonder what his problem is? I put the phone down on the night table and decide to tidy the room. Ping. Finally! A text message from Jason.