Undo Send

Introduction:

It started with the wrong picture.

One accidental tap.

One hard cock sent to the wrong woman.

Stefan meant to turn on his lover.

Instead, he awakened something in an old friend.

Lea wasn't supposed to see it.

She wasn't supposed to like it.

She definitely wasn't supposed to reply.

But curiosity is a kink.

And confession is a game.

Now, each night they text, whisper, moan

Until the line between friends and something far filthier disappears.

They both know it can't go on.

They both know they'll go too far.

They just don't know how to stop.

********************************************************************************************

Chapter 1 "Unseen For Years"

(Stefan POV)

It was almost midnight when Stefan sent the photo.

He had the room lights low, only the glow of his laptop and the blue hue of his phone screen bathing the apartment in a soft, digital haze. The rest of the world felt distant. Silent. Wrapped in the kind of private late night stillness that encouraged mistakes.

His cock was hard he'd been edging for over an hour. The tension in his groin was matched only by the weird, breathless anxiety he always got when he flirted this far with someone new. That someone was Iva, a girl he'd matched with on Tinder four weeks ago.

Their conversations had skipped the usual small talk. A couple of gifs, an innuendo laced joke, and then full speed into filth. Iva was bold. She liked being told what to do. Liked making him beg. She'd already sent three videos this week alone teasing herself in different hotel beds. Tonight, she wanted him to perform.

"I'm soaking, and you're just teasing. I want to see it. You said it was big prove it."

He hadn't even hesitated. Took a breath. Sat back. Angled the camera. Framed it right: hard, veins visible, tip swollen and dark. One hand holding it at the base. Cropped just enough. No face. Just cock.

He attached the photo to the thread, grinning slightly at how far they'd come in just a month of texts.

[Photo Sent]

He exhaled, thumbed the message away, and immediately began to open Iva's thread again to write a follow up text something cocky. Something like "That enough proof for you?"

Then something didn't feel right.

His screen was still on Messenger. But... it wasn't Iva's name at the top.

Lea.

His stomach turned to stone.

Lea.

Fucking, Leaaa!!!

The girl he hadn't spoken to in three years. His friend from high school. The one who reappeared just a week ago after someone tagged them both in an old reunion post on Facebook. They exchanged a few casual "how've you beens," followed each other on Instagram, liked a couple stories. Nothing serious.

And now he'd just sent her a full, throbbing picture of his cock.

His heart seized. A horrible, cold flush ran through his whole body.

"Fuck." His voice was hoarse in the quiet room.

He opened the chat hoping, praying, somehow the message didn't go through.

It had.

✓ Seen.

She'd opened it.

He couldn't move. Couldn't even type. Just sat there, staring at the screen, his cock softening fast in his lap.

A minute passed.

Two.

Then...

[Text from Lea -- 12:07 AM]

"Uh... wow. That wasn't meant for me, right? ????"

Stefan stared. His hands moved to type and froze again. He erased the sentence twice before finally managing to send something.

[Reply to Lea -- 12:08 AM]

"Shit. Lea, I'm so sorry. That was a huge mistake. Wrong chat. Please ignore it."

His thumb hovered. He considered unsending the photo but it had already been up too long. She'd seen it. There was no undoing it now.

A new message came in immediately.

[Text from Lea -- 12:09 AM]

"Kinda hard to ignore. I saw everything. ????"

He groaned and rubbed his face with both hands, trying to physically force his brain to reset.

[Reply to Lea -- 12:10 AM]

"I really didn't mean for you to see that. I was texting someone else. Please, forget it happened."

[Text from Lea -- 12:11 AM]

"Well, I'll try. But it's kinda burned into my brain now ????

You've... grown up."

That last line hit him like a punch in the chest and the cock simultaneously.

He stared at it.

"You've... grown up."

Was she joking? Teasing? Flirting?

No. Couldn't be. Not Lea.

He and Lea had spent years as close friends. Had movie nights, late night study sessions, shared earbuds and secrets. And sure he'd crushed on her back then. Everyone had. But nothing ever happened. Not even close. Their friendship had never bent like that.

Until now.

[Reply to Lea -- 12:13 AM]

"Guess I owe you a drink to erase the trauma. Again, sorry for that."

She was typing.

Then she stopped.

Then started again.

Then finally:

[Text from Lea -- 12:15 AM]

"Honestly... no trauma. Just surprise. ????"

He exhaled. This wasn't a disaster. Yet.

He smiled nervously and tapped back:

[Reply to Lea -- 12:16 AM]

"Guess I'm relieved you're not scarred for life lol."

[Text from Lea -- 12:16 AM]

"I've seen worse. But... never by accident. ????"

Was that... a compliment?

[Text from Lea -- 12:17 AM]

"Also... who were you trying to send that to? Someone lucky, clearly."

[Reply to Lea -- 12:17 AM]

"Just someone I matched with. Tinder girl. Bit wild."

[Text from Lea -- 12:18 AM]

"Wild seems... accurate. ????"

[Reply to Lea -- 12:18 AM]

"Are you teasing me now? That really doesn't help the embarrassment."

[Text from Lea -- 12:19 AM]

"Maybe just a little. You're cute when you panic."

His pulse jumped. That was a flirt. Soft, but unmistakable.

He shifted on the couch. His cock twitched faintly back to life just from her messages.

[Reply to Lea -- 12:19 AM]

"Didn't realize my cock pic would score me compliments from an old friend."

[Text from Lea -- 12:20 AM]

"Well... let's just say, if that photo had been meant for me... I probably wouldn't have minded."

The moment froze.

Stefan's mouth went dry. His fingers hovered again over the keyboard, trembling just enough to notice.

He typed, paused, erased.

Then:

[Reply to Lea -- 12:22 AM]

"What would you have said if it had been meant for you?"

No answer.

Not for a full minute.

Then...

[Text from Lea -- 12:23 AM]

"I guess you'll have to send me another one to find out."

*****

Chapter 2 "Didn't Hate It"

(Lea POV)

Lea didn't sleep.

She told herself it was because of the wine. Or maybe the blue light from too much late night scrolling. But that wasn't true.

It was the picture.

His picture.

She kept checking her phone like it might disappear, like Messenger would take it back. But it didn't. It sat there in her chat log, bold and unmistakable, just above Stefan's panicked apology.

And it wasn't even the picture itself well, not just that.

It was the fact it was Stefan.

It made no sense. He was Stefan. Her old friend. Her safe zone guy. Her goofy, fast talking, skinny jeans wearing partner in crime back in senior year. They used to watch horror movies together and text memes at 2 a. m. He was never sexual in her brain. He just... wasn't.

Except maybe, he had been, once.

And that thought hit her like a drop of ice water melting down her spine.

She got up from bed and padded barefoot across her apartment, wrapping her cardigan tighter around herself as she leaned on the kitchen counter. She poured another splash of wine even though her cheeks were already warm.

The thought kept replaying: the moment she opened the message, expecting some meme or video clip. Instead... thick. Hard. His hand gripping it like he owned it. No angle tricks, no filters. Just raw, heavy heat. Bold and direct.

She had gasped, a real one, when she saw it. Then covered her mouth like someone might've seen.

Why had it affected her like that?

Then, embarrassingly, she remembered something.

Senior year.

One of those stupid lunchroom rumors whispered behind hands, giggled between locker doors.

"You know Stefan, right?"

"I heard he's... packing."

"No joke, like thick thick."

She'd rolled her eyes back then. But she'd also remembered it. Not because she believed it. But because, in some small, secret corner of her brain, she'd wondered.

And now?

Now she knew.

And now she couldn't stop thinking about it.

Back in bed, she sat against her pillows, phone glowing in her lap. She scrolled past his apology texts again.

"Shit. Lea, I'm so sorry. That was a huge mistake. Wrong chat. Please ignore it."

"I really didn't mean for you to see that."

"Please, forget it happened."

She should've said nothing. Should've been chill. But something inside her wanted to poke it just to see what would happen.

So she typed:

[Text to Stefan -- 12:07 AM]

"Uh... wow. That wasn't meant for me, right? ????"

Then waited. Bit her lip.

He responded fast panicked, awkward, apologetic. Classic Stefan. Her smile curled before she could stop it.

So she teased him.

She didn't plan to flirt. Just... nudge him. Maybe remind him that she wasn't some shy little memory anymore. That she noticed. And maybe... liked what she saw.

But as the conversation went on, the tone shifted. He was nervous but also... interested? He kept replying. Asking what she would've said. And then...

"Guess I'm relieved you're not scarred for life lol."

"Didn't realize my cock pic would score me compliments from an old friend."

She felt heat pool low in her stomach.

She typed faster than she thought she would:

[Text to Stefan -- 12:20 AM]

"Well... let's just say, if that photo had been meant for me... I probably wouldn't have minded."

As soon as she hit send, she covered her face. Her heart was racing. Why did that feel like such a risk?

But it was thrilling. God, she hadn't flirted like this in years. Her ex Darren hadn't made her feel this hot in ages. Their last year together had been a graveyard of dead touches and long silences. No excitement. No tension. No voice in her ear whispering filth.

But now her phone was lighting up at midnight with the cock of someone she'd once trusted with her deepest secrets.

Maybe it was wrong. But God, it felt good to feel something again.

Her phone buzzed again.

"What would you have said if it had been meant for you?"

She bit her lip.

It was a dangerous question.

And she could either defuse the bomb or light the fuse.

She chose the latter.

[Text to Stefan -- 12:23 AM]

"I guess you'll have to send me another one to find out."

She didn't wait for his reply.

Instead, she turned off the lamp beside her bed, crawled under the covers, and slipped one hand between her thighs.

The picture flashed again in her mind bold, heavy, gripped tight in his fist.

Lea closed her eyes and let out a soft breath as her fingers found warmth.

Her phone buzzed again beside her.

But she didn't check it.

Not yet.

******

Chapter 3 "What Would You Have Sent Me on Purpose?"

(Lea POV)

It had been three days since Stefan's accidental message.

Three days since she saw him fully hard, cock gripped in his fist unfiltered, real, intentional for someone else but now permanently part of her. The image haunted her like a scent that clung to skin long after leaving the room. She kept telling herself she was over it. That she'd laughed, teased, made her point.

But then... she hadn't really stopped thinking about it.

It didn't help that every time she unlocked her phone, her eyes instinctively went to their chat thread. She hadn't initiated anything since that night. Not really. She left the last message like a challenge flirty, dangerous, safe enough to pretend was a joke.

"I guess you'll have to send me another one to find out."

He never replied to that one. Not directly. But the next day, he liked one of her older Instagram selfies. A photo from nearly a year ago her in a messy bun, licking ice cream, lips glossy and parted. Not a thirst trap. Not on purpose, anyway.

But after seeing his like on it, she'd stared at it again and... yeah. Maybe it kind of was.

Tonight, her head wouldn't quiet. She was in bed, a thin white tank top brushing her skin, no bra, a pair of tiny cotton shorts clinging to the top of her thighs. No makeup. Just her and her thoughts, legs tangled under the covers, phone glowing too bright against the darkness of her room.

She opened his chat.

No new messages.

But he was online.

Active just now.

She hovered her thumb over the keyboard. Thought about what to say. Deleted three versions of the same harmless "hey."

Then typed something else.

Paused.

Looked at it for a long time before sending.

[Text to Stefan -- 12:34 AM]

"What would you have sent me on purpose?"

There. She'd done it.

No joke. No emoji buffer. Just the question. Straight. Curious. Open.

Her stomach twisted with anticipation and guilt. But her nipples tightened beneath the tank top and she felt that warm, low ache between her legs that had started ever since that goddamn photo.

She closed her eyes. Just waited.

STEFAN IS TYPING...

The dots appeared almost immediately.

She swallowed.

Then they vanished.

Appeared again.

Paused.

Her pulse pounded in her ears like a drumline.

Then:

[Text from Stefan -- 12:37 AM]

"Are you sure you want me to answer that?"

A shiver chased up her spine.

[Reply to Stefan -- 12:37 AM]

"I wouldn't ask if I didn't."

[Text from Stefan -- 12:38 AM]

"Okay... but you have to promise not to freak out. We're friends. I don't want to ruin that."

Her fingers hesitated.

Then:

[Reply to Stefan -- 12:39 AM]

"We haven't talked in three years. Maybe it's not about being friends anymore."

It surprised her that she wrote it. It felt... heavy. Too real. But also thrilling.

He paused longer this time.

Then:

[Text from Stefan -- 12:41 AM]

"If that photo was meant for you, I would've sent it slower."

"I would've taken a video, honestly."

"Laid back. Hand stroking it."

"Saying your name."

Lea inhaled sharply.

Her thighs pressed together automatically. Her fingers brushed the edge of her shorts.

He wasn't teasing anymore. This was a confession.

[Reply to Stefan -- 12:42 AM]

"You would've said my name?"

[Text from Stefan -- 12:43 AM]

"Lea... I've thought your name while jerking off more than I should probably admit."

Her breath caught in her throat.

No one had ever said that to her before. Not even Darren, her ex, the man she lived with for two years. No one had ever said: I think of you when I touch myself.

It did something to her. Twisted something in her chest and flushed heat across her belly.

She stared at the screen, stunned. Then slowly slid her hand under the waistband of her shorts, heart thudding hard.

Her reply came before she could stop it.

[Text to Stefan -- 12:45 AM]

"What do you think about when you say it?"

A minute passed.

Two.

Then the typing dots came back.

[Text from Stefan -- 12:48 AM]

"Your mouth."

"Your lips when you're thinking."

"Your laugh. That thing you do with your tongue when you're teasing."

"I imagine you watching me. Kneeling. Or laying back, not touching, just looking."

"Sometimes I picture you saying 'don't come yet.'"

Lea was already wet. She pressed her palm down and exhaled into the silence of her room, biting the inside of her cheek to keep from moaning.

She knew she shouldn't. Knew it was a line. Knew it meant something else now.

But she wanted more.

So she typed:

[Text to Stefan -- 12:50 AM]

"What if I told you I was touching myself while reading that?"

[Text from Stefan -- 12:50 AM]

"Then I'd ask you if you want me to describe how fast I'm stroking for you."

She closed her eyes, legs parting slightly beneath the covers. Her fingers slipped lower, grazing slick heat.

She wanted to tell him. But something in her still held back.

So instead...

She opened her camera. Leaned back against the pillows. Bit her lip. Brought two fingers to her mouth and drew them across her lower lip, then slowly extended her tongue and let it slide over the tips.

Snap.

A photo her mouth only. Tongue out. Wet. Suggestive.

Her heart was slamming in her chest. But she didn't think.

She just sent it.

[Photo Sent -- 12:53 AM]

[Caption: "Does this help you stroke faster?"]

She tossed the phone beside her on the bed, flipped to her side, and let her hand move freely now. Inside the shorts. Inside herself. Stroking softly.

He would answer.

He had to answer.

And when he did, she knew she'd come with her phone in her hand.

*****

Chapter 4 "Text Me While You Do It"

(Stefan POV)

Stefan stared at the photo for a full minute before he moved.

It was simple. Unedited. Just her mouth pink lips parted, tongue just barely touching the tip of her fingers. Wet. Glossed. Soft.

But something about it hit harder than any full nude ever had. Maybe it was the restraint. Maybe it was the fact that it was her. Lea. And she wasn't sending him a body. She was sending him intention.

The caption was burned into his brain:

"Does this help you stroke faster?"

His cock was already half hard from their earlier conversation, but now it pulsed thickly in his sweats, urgent and heavy. He could feel it swelling harder by the second, his own body responding to her like it had been waiting years for this.

He sat there, in the dark, phone in one hand, the other resting on his thigh. Heart racing. Skin hot. Mind full of her mouth.

This wasn't just sexting anymore.

This wasn't Iva.

Iva his ever ready Tinder match was wild, playful, dirty in a way that felt like a performance. She liked him, but she didn't crave him. She sexted like it was sport.

But this? Lea's message wasn't polished. It wasn't filtered or posed. It was raw in a way that made it dangerous. That made him dangerous, too.

He thought of high school. Of all those late nights sitting next to her in his bedroom, watching horror movies on VHS and pretending not to notice how good she smelled. How her legs were always just barely brushing his. How her laugh lit up everything around her. He'd buried all of that. Called it friendship. Convinced himself it was over.

But now her tongue was back in his thoughts and not from a memory.

He shifted, let his hand trail to the waistband of his sweats. He pulled them down slowly, letting his cock bounce free, already thick and leaking precum.

The tip of it gleamed in the blue light of the screen.

He didn't even have to grip it. Just the thought of her mouth. Her voice.

"Text me while you do it," he whispered aloud to no one.

And then he did.

[Text to Lea -- 12:57 AM]

"Yes. I'm hard. And you're all I'm thinking about."

[Text to Lea -- 12:57 AM]

"Your mouth has me aching. I'm stroking slow, base to tip. Just enough pressure."

He slid his fist down the length of his cock, drawing in a slow breath, imagining her eyes on him. Her lips wet. Her voice trembling with want.

He let his mind go, fingers moving in smooth, practiced rhythm.

[Text to Lea -- 12:58 AM]

"I'm picturing you on your knees. Looking up. Not touching just watching. Mouth open."

[Text to Lea -- 12:59 AM]

"You tell me not to come. Not yet. You're smiling while I edge for you."

His hand squeezed tighter as he reread his own texts. He'd never written to someone like this. Not even Iva. This wasn't just sexting it was storytelling. Confession. Obsession.

He swiped to her mouth pic again.

Zoomed in.

Her tongue just slightly out. The bottom lip fuller than he remembered. His thumb brushed the screen like it could translate sensation.

[Text to Lea -- 1:00 AM]

"Tell me how you'd use that mouth."

Nothing yet. No typing dots.

He started stroking faster, couldn't help it now. The buildup was too much.

[Text to Lea -- 1:01 AM]

"Would you lick the tip first?"

"Wrap those lips around it slowly?"

"Or be filthy right away?"

He was dangerously close. His hips were lifting slightly off the couch, his muscles tightening, every inch of his cock slick and pulsing. But he didn't want to come. Not yet. Not until

His phone buzzed.

[Audio Message -- from Lea -- 1:02 AM | 12 seconds]

His thumb hovered.

Then he pressed play.

The softest whisper filled the speaker. Her voice. Breathless. Warm.

"Stroke slow for me."

"Don't come."

"Not yet."

"I want to hear you beg for it."

He grunted aloud, his whole body jerking with arousal. His hand froze.

"Fuck," he muttered, gritting his teeth.

[Text to Lea -- 1:03 AM]

"Lea... you're going to make me come with just your voice."

[Text to Lea -- 1:03 AM]

"Please tell me what you're wearing right now."

[Text to Lea -- 1:04 AM]

"Are your thighs open? Are you touching yourself?"

The audio had broken him.

He leaned back into the couch, legs spread, cock in hand, rock solid and twitching in anticipation. He could barely breathe.

Her voice was burned into his brain now.

It wasn't pornographic. It was personal.

Real.

Possessive.

And he wanted more.

STEFAN IS TYPING...

He stopped.

Instead, he opened his camera. Held it steady.

His cock filled the frame wet, flushed, tip glistening, hand wrapped around it.

He hesitated for five seconds.

Then clicked the shutter.

Then attached the photo.

Checked Lea's name. Not Iva.

[Photo Sent -- 1:06 AM]

"This is what your voice does to me."

He pressed send.

Then threw his head back, closed his eyes, and waited for her reply with his cock throbbing in his hand.

*****

Chapter 5 "Harder Than I Thought"

(Lea POV)

The image hit her screen just as she slipped her fingers beneath the hem of her tank top.

Her phone vibrated once. The thumbnail preview was unmistakable.

[Photo Received -- 1:06 AM]

Stefan. Again.

This time, closer. Clearer. Full length.

His cock in his hand, thick and flushed and slick with need. His fingers curled tight around the base, holding it upright, and the head looked painfully engorged shiny, angry, beautiful. She didn't even mean to gasp, but it left her mouth anyway, soft and desperate.

Her breath fogged against the screen as she stared.

The caption below read:

"This is what your voice does to me."

And just like that, Lea's entire body reacted.

Her legs clenched together instinctively, the ache between her thighs blooming into something almost unbearable. Her nipples were tight against the inside of her tank. Her fingers twitched, hesitant and hungry.

She swallowed hard. She hadn't touched herself in months. Not properly. Not without guilt, or disinterest, or shame that made her stop halfway through.

But this?

This was different.

This wasn't her fumbling in the dark, trying to convince herself she still felt something. This was a man someone she knew stroking himself to the sound of her voice. Sending her pictures that made her knees weak. Texting her like he couldn't get enough.

And she wanted more.

Lea leaned back into the pillows, phone balanced on her chest, thumb still resting on the photo. She stared at it, at him, for another long breath before she finally gave in and slid her hand into her shorts.

She was soaked.

No hesitation. No buildup. Just wet, needy arousal waiting for attention.

She pressed her middle finger against her clit and sighed finally, finally letting herself feel it.

Her other hand held the phone up again. She zoomed in. Let her eyes trace every detail. She imagined his voice groaning in her ear, imagined his eyes on her, imagined being told to take her time while he stroked for her.

And in that moment, she knew this wasn't casual. This wasn't a joke anymore. Not for her.

She didn't know what this was, but it was dangerous.

And she was already addicted.

Her hips shifted under the blanket. Fingers moved faster. Breath hitching now, rising, legs tightening around her hand.

A thought formed. Bold. Reckless.

Send him something back.

She hesitated.

But her body didn't care about hesitation anymore.

She let go of the blanket and reached for the phone. Opened the camera. Flipped it. It framed her face first eyes glassy, lips parted.

She bit her bottom lip. Leaned into frame.

Then slowly extended her tongue, brushing it across her upper lip before letting it settle wet, soft, suggestive.

Snap.

She looked at the image. It wasn't pornographic. It wasn't even particularly revealing.

But it was real. Raw.

She added a caption:

"Still stroking for me?"

She sent it.

Then pressed two fingers against her clit again and gasped into the dark.

The phone vibrated again while she was still moving her hips in slow, desperate rhythm.

[Text from Stefan -- 1:10 AM]

"Fuck. I'm close. Tell me something."

She didn't even stop.

She flipped to voice memo, hit record, closed her eyes.

Her voice came out lower than usual breathy, unfiltered.

"Stroke for me, Stefan."

"Don't stop. Don't you dare stop."

"I want you to come to the thought of my mouth."

"I want to hear you lose control."

She let the words roll out as her fingers moved faster, moaning softly at the end, a real one. She cut the audio before she came but just barely.

Then she hit send.

[Voice Message Sent -- 1:11 AM | 14 seconds]

She didn't expect a reply right away.

She didn't need one.

Because the moment she sent it, her body took over.

She clutched the blanket with her free hand, bit back a sharp cry, and came hard legs tightening, breath catching, fingers soaked. Her whole body clenched around the pleasure she hadn't allowed herself to feel for far too long.

It rolled through her in waves, pulsing, dizzying, exquisite.

And in the back of her mind, somewhere between the gasps, was one thought:

This is Stefan.

Not a stranger. Not some faceless hookup.

Stefan.

Her friend. Her secret what if. Her mistake.

After the tremors passed, she lay still, heart still racing, chest heaving softly.

The phone buzzed again.

She looked.

[Text from Stefan -- 1:13 AM]

"Jesus. That voice. I came the second I heard it."

[Text from Stefan -- 1:13 AM]

"I want to hear it again."

Lea smiled exhausted, glowing, wrecked in the best possible way.

Then typed her reply:

[Text to Stefan -- 1:14 AM]

"Only if you promise to beg for it next time."

*****

Chapter 6 "I Keep Thinking About Your Mouth"

(Stefan POV)

It had been hours since she sent the voice message. He'd listened to it six times.

It wasn't even long fourteen seconds. But it had wrecked him.

Every syllable was carved into his brain: the breathiness, the edge of amusement in her voice when she said his name, the teasing control like she was already holding him by the balls with nothing but sound.

He'd tried to go to sleep after. Couldn't. He'd jacked off again in the morning without prompting this time. No text thread open. No Iva. Just a mental loop of Lea's voice whispering "Stroke for me, Stefan."

And that was what worried him.

It wasn't just about the sex anymore. It was what she unlocked. That part of him that had always wondered, back in high school, what she'd sound like if she ever moaned his name. The part that remembered her strawberry lip gloss, her long legs in those short summer skirts. The part he buried when they were "just friends."

But now the door was open.

And his body didn't want to close it.

[Text to Lea -- 9:44 AM]

"I can't stop thinking about your mouth."

He stared at it for a few seconds before hitting send. It was direct. No flirting, no emojis. Just truth.

Her reply came eight minutes later.

[Text from Lea -- 9:52 AM]

"Which part?"

He grinned, blood already warming low in his gut.

[Text to Lea -- 9:53 AM]

"Your lips. That tongue. The way you whispered at the end..."

"The way you said my name like it belonged to you."

Her reply took longer this time.

[Text from Lea -- 10:06 AM]

"It didn't?"

He paused, thumb hovering over the screen. That reply... it made something in his chest tighten.

God, she could undo him with just a few words.

That night, he couldn't take it anymore.

He'd been playing it cool all day. Barely texted her again. Gave himself space. Tried not to spiral. But now he was lying in bed, half hard, and already scrolling through her mouth photo again like it was a goddamn religious icon.

He couldn't stop picturing it wrapped around him. Not just licking but commanding. Lea had that in her. He knew she did now. That quiet kind of power. Soft spoken, but lethal.

And he wanted to give in to it.

He typed:

[Text to Lea -- 11:22 PM]

"I want you to send me a video."

She was online. Active now.

Her typing dots appeared instantly.

[Text from Lea -- 11:22 PM]

"Of what?"

He hesitated. Then pushed:

[Text to Lea -- 11:23 PM]

"Your lips. Close up."

"Say my name again. Make me beg."

Long pause.

No reply.

Then the screen blinked:

[Video Received -- 11:30 PM | 12 seconds]

His breath caught.

He hit play.

The video was silent at first. Then her face appeared just her lips, jawline, collarbones. Her mouth was soft, glossed, tongue slowly teasing the corner like she was thinking hard.

Then she whispered:

"You want to beg for this?"

"Say please."

Cut.

End of video.

He was rock hard instantly.

[Text to Lea -- 11:31 PM]

"Please."

[Text from Lea -- 11:31 PM]

"Faster."

He stroked himself immediately, one hand gripping the base of his cock, the other holding the phone.

Then another message came in.

[Audio Message -- 11:33 PM | 9 seconds]

Her voice again this time a tease, a purr, almost cruel in its control:

"Five strokes."

"Nice and slow. One..."

"Two..."

"Don't come."

Click. Message ended.

"Fuck," Stefan muttered. His whole body was trembling from restraint.

He typed blindly:

[Text to Lea -- 11:34 PM]

"Lea... you're going to break me."

[Text from Lea -- 11:34 PM]

"Good. You deserve it."

He had to stop.

He dropped the phone beside him and clenched his fist around the base of his cock, holding himself at the edge. Jaw tight. Breathing through his nose. Barely holding on.

This wasn't fun anymore.

It was need.

He hadn't felt this for anyone in years. Not even Iva. Not even women he'd fucked in real life.

Lea was crawling inside his mind with nothing but her mouth, her voice, her presence.

And he liked it way more than he should.

[Text to Lea -- 11:36 PM]

"Tell me to come."

A minute passed.

Two.

No reply.

Then...

[Text from Lea -- 11:38 PM]

"Earn it."

****

Chapter 7 "Don't Tell Her"

(Stefan POV)

The morning light bled in soft and gray.

Stefan hadn't slept. His sheets were a mess. His cock was still aching not because he hadn't come, but because he'd done it three times through the night. All to Lea.

Not Iva.

Not his current, always half dressed, dirty talking, ass in the air Tinder fuck.

Lea.

His mouth was dry, jaw tight. His body wrung out. And yet even now, even with guilt grinding against his temples like a hangover, he opened his phone, not to Iva's unread messages, but to Lea's.

He re read her last text.

"Earn it."

The voice note still lived just above it in their thread. That low, whisper soft countdown, her tone commanding, amused, cruel in the way only someone who knew you too well could be.

She hadn't messaged since.

And he hadn't dared follow up.

He opened Instagram just to distract himself.

A new DM.

Iva.

He exhaled slowly and opened it.

[DM from Iva -- 7:44 AM]

"Still alive, stranger?"

He winced. That tone. Teasing, but sharp. She always knew how to make a joke cut.

[DM from Iva -- 7:45 AM]

"Was hoping for a good morning pic. Haven't seen that thick cock in days ????"

Stefan's stomach twisted.

Iva didn't do subtle. She sexted like it was cardio. No buildup. Just direct filth. And yeah, part of him liked that. Liked how brazen she was. How unapologetic.

But now, after the last few nights with Lea, Iva's messages felt... thin. Hollow. Performed.

He didn't want to admit it, but Lea's voice had ruined him.

Still, he replied.

[Reply to Iva -- 7:46 AM]

"Morning. Been caught up with work stuff. Didn't mean to vanish."

That wasn't a total lie.

He just didn't say the "work stuff" was fingering himself raw to the sound of his high school friend whispering "stroke slower."

[DM from Iva -- 7:47 AM]

"Lame excuse. I was horny last night and you missed your window."

He typed, then stopped.

"So was I."

He deleted it.

Instead:

[Reply to Iva -- 7:48 AM]

"Rain check?"

[DM from Iva -- 7:49 AM]

"Only if you make it up to me. Tonight. One video. You stroking. Start soft, end messy. Deal?"

[DM from Iva -- 7:49 AM]

"Don't make me beg, Stefan. Or maybe... do. ????"

He stared at the messages, thumb hovering over the screen.

His cock stirred faintly but not like it had with Lea. It wasn't hunger. It was habit.

He set the phone down and stared at the ceiling.

His mind kept circling the same thought:

"What the fuck are you doing?"

By noon, he still hadn't replied to Iva.

Instead, he was back in Messenger, back in Lea's thread, staring at the last three messages like they were spells he wasn't allowed to read out loud.

"Earn it."

[Audio message: 9 seconds]

[Video: her lips, her tongue, whispering 'say please.']

He was losing control of this.

No, not losing.

He'd already lost it.

He typed.

[Text to Lea -- 12:11 PM]

"She messaged me again."

No context.

No need to say who.

She'd know.

Typing bubbles appeared.

Stopped.

Appeared again.

[Text from Lea -- 12:13 PM]

"Did you reply?"

[Text to Lea -- 12:13 PM]

"I did."

"But I didn't send anything."

Long pause.

Then:

[Text from Lea -- 12:16 PM]

"Don't tell her about us."

His breath caught.

He reread that sentence three times.

"Us."

She'd said "us."

He didn't even care that she followed it with:

"If there even is an 'us.'"

It was there. In print. In her voice. In the space between every message they'd sent for the last week.

He was hers now.

And the scary part?

He liked it.

He typed again.

[Text to Lea -- 12:18 PM]

"I won't tell her."

"This is just... ours."

Another pause.

Then:

[Text from Lea -- 12:19 PM]

"Good. Because I don't want to share."

His cock twitched under the desk.

So did something deeper.

*****

Chapter 8 "You Were Always That Guy"

(Lea POV)

Lea had always known there was something dangerous about Stefan.

Not in a bad way. Not in the way guys could be dangerous when they were careless or cruel.

It was subtler than that.

Stefan had always been emotionally dangerous. The kind of guy who could make you feel safe, seen, completely understood and then accidentally turn you inside out with a look. A joke. A stray touch that meant nothing to him and everything to you.

He never weaponized it. That was the worst part.

He didn't know.

Not back then. Not when they were seventeen and she was sneaking glances at his hands. Not when they were nineteen and he'd pulled her into a long hug after his first breakup and her heart beat so loud it drowned out the comfort.

She'd learned to ignore it. Learned to put it away. Box it up.

But now?

Now there was no box.

Now there was only a thread of messages stretching back days voice notes, photos, whispers, fingers between thighs and the sound of his name, hers, moaned through a speaker while she pressed her own name into her mouth just to stay quiet.

She was walking home when she typed it.

Her fingers shook slightly as she wrote.

[Text to Stefan -- 6:12 PM]

"Can I say something without you freaking out?"

She didn't know what she was doing. The city lights blurred in her peripheral vision. Her heels clicked against wet pavement. She didn't feel the cold. She barely felt her body. Only her pulse. Her nerves.

He replied fast.

[Text from Stefan -- 6:13 PM]

"You can say anything."

Of course he would say that.

That was the problem.

She stopped walking. Leaned against a closed café door. Took a breath.

[Text to Stefan -- 6:14 PM]

"You were always that guy for me."

A beat.

[Text to Stefan -- 6:14 PM]

"The one I wanted to want me. But couldn't have."

"I used to think about you more than I should've. Late at night. Quiet moments. When I was with someone else."

She hit send.

And immediately panicked.

Her screen blurred. Her heart slammed.

Typing...

Then nothing.

Then:

[Text from Stefan -- 6:17 PM]

"Lea..."

A second message followed.

[Text from Stefan -- 6:18 PM]

"Why didn't you ever tell me?"

[Text to Stefan -- 6:18 PM]

"Because I didn't want to lose what we had. And because... I didn't think I was the type you'd fuck."

There.

She said it.

The shame. The truth.

Back in high school, he'd dated loud girls. Confident girls. Skin, hips, push up bras and gum snapping grins. Lea had been quieter. Smarter. A little too sarcastic. A little too inside herself.

But she'd watched him. All the time.

And sometimes, late at night, she'd touched herself while picturing his mouth on her neck.

[Text from Stefan -- 6:20 PM]

"Lea. You have no idea."

"I used to jerk off to the sound of your laugh. To your legs in those plaid skirts."

"I'd have done anything to touch you back then."

Her breath left her body.

She stepped away from the café door, phone trembling in her hands, and kept walking like the motion might keep her from floating off.

She didn't reply.

She opened her voice recorder.

Put her back to the wall of a quiet alley, out of the wind.

And whispered:

"You were the first person I ever got wet over without even touching me."

"I used to imagine your mouth right between my thighs, whispering things like 'don't come yet.'"

"I didn't know it could feel like this again."

She didn't moan. Didn't perform. Just... confessed.

Soft. Real. Exposed.

She ended it with a breath barely audible and hit stop.

[Voice Message Sent -- 6:26 PM | 24 seconds]

Ten minutes passed. No reply.

Then

[Audio from Stefan -- 6:37 PM | 13 seconds]

She hit play.

His voice was deeper than usual. Raspy. Choked.

"I just came to that."

"Your voice. Your words."

"I wish I could fuck the memory of you into the girl you used to be."

She nearly dropped the phone.

She walked the rest of the way home in silence. No music. No distraction. Just her body warm with tension and truth.

When she got inside, she stripped everything off but her underwear, got into bed, and sent one last thing.

A video.

Her face in soft lighting. Lying on her back. Hair loose on the pillow. Lips parted. Tongue tracing the edge of her teeth.

Her voice: a whisper.

"You want to know what I used to think about?"

"You. Lifting my skirt. Telling me to stay quiet."

"You saying 'good girls don't come yet.'"

"You calling me a good girl after."

She let her hand drift slowly over her chest in the shot. Just enough.

[Video Sent -- 6:55 PM | 21 seconds]

She didn't wait for his reply.

She was already touching herself before the notification even arrived.

*****

Chapter 9 "Caught Between Two Screens"

(Stefan POV)

He should have muted one of them.

He knew that now.

But as he lay back on his couch sweatpants halfway down his thighs, cock already hard, phone balanced between his stomach and his palm he knew there was no escape anymore. No clean way out. Not without breaking something.

Because both women were texting him.

At the same time.

Iva had started it, snapping him out of a fog he hadn't realized he'd sunk into.

He was still floating from Lea's last voice message twenty one seconds of raw fantasy, her tongue curling over words like "good girl" and "stay quiet" while her fingers brushed her chest in soft, hypnotic motion. He'd watched it three times. Paused it at the part where her lips parted and whispered "after". That was the moment he'd almost lost it.

But he was holding off. Waiting.

For her.

Then Iva's messages hit like a car crash.

[Text from Iva -- 9:12 PM]

"Thinking about you tonight ????"

[Photo Received]

A mirror selfie. Red lace bra. No panties. One leg up on the bed. Face cropped out, but he knew that curve. He'd tasted it.

His cock twitched.

Then

[Text from Iva -- 9:13 PM]

"This pussy's been neglected. You gonna fix that or just keep ghosting me?"

He licked his lips, half hard and rising again.

Then Messenger lit up.

Lea.

[Text from Lea -- 9:13 PM]

"Don't you dare touch yourself yet."

His body jerked.

He looked at the screen. Back and forth. Two threads. Two women. One game. Different rules.

Iva wanted the wild. The immediate. No build up. Just mess.

Lea? Lea wanted control.

And she had it.

[Text to Lea -- 9:14 PM]

"I'm not. I'm waiting for you."

[Text to Iva -- 9:14 PM]

"Fuck, you look incredible."

"I missed that body."

He hated how easy it was to split himself. Like two versions of the same man. One for Iva. One for Lea.

He reached for his cock. Then stopped. Lea's voice echoed in his head again.

"Don't you dare touch yourself yet."

His body obeyed before he even made a decision.

That scared him.

His phone buzzed.

[Voice Message from Lea -- 9:15 PM | 18 seconds]

He played it immediately.

"Sit back. Legs open. Hands to your sides."

"Not a single stroke unless I tell you."

"I want you hard for me. Dripping. Needy."

"You don't get to come until I say the number 'one.'"

His cock surged so fast he almost choked on his own breath.

His hand hovered. But he didn't touch.

Iva, again.

[Text from Iva -- 9:15 PM]

"Video?"

"Want to watch that cock swell."

[Text from Lea -- 9:16 PM]

"If you send her anything, I'll stop."

Fuck.

He closed his eyes.

He knew the game was ending.

He couldn't play both anymore.

And yet his cock was leaking. His mind was spinning.

He thumbed his camera open, angling it down. His cock twitched in frame, angry and purple at the head, his thighs spread wide, balls tight against him. The restraint hurt in the best way.

He recorded ten seconds. Just him, hard and trembling. No stroking.

No pleasure. Just obedience.

Then he sent it to Lea.

[Video Sent -- to Lea -- 9:17 PM]

Caption: "Waiting. Dripping. Just like you told me."

Iva buzzed again.

[Text from Iva -- 9:18 PM]

"Seriously? No reply?"

"Don't waste my time, Stefan."

His stomach clenched.

But he didn't respond.

Not yet.

Lea replied.

[Text from Lea -- 9:18 PM]

"Good boy."

"I'm going to count you down."

Stefan groaned softly.

His hand ached to move.

Another message.

[Voice Message -- from Lea -- 9:19 PM | 11 seconds]

"Five..."

"Four..."

"Slide your hand to the base. Hold it. Don't stroke."

"Three... two..."

Nothing else.

No 'one.'

He whimpered. Actually whimpered.

His hand shook as it gripped the base of his cock, holding it upright, heavy and ready.

Messenger buzzed again.

[Text from Lea -- 9:20 PM]

"Earn 'one.' Tell me what I am to you right now."

He didn't think.

He just typed.

[Text to Lea -- 9:20 PM]

"You're the only one I want to please."

"You own this."

"I don't want to come unless you say I can."

Send.

Then silence.

Then finally...

[Voice Message from Lea -- 9:21 PM | 4 seconds]

"One."

He exploded instantly. Body convulsing. Hot ropes shooting across his stomach, the screen, his thighs. His voice broke into a low, helpless groan.

He dropped the phone.

A minute passed.

He wiped the sweat off his brow. Chest rising and falling like he'd run five miles.

His phone buzzed again.

He checked.

[Text from Iva -- 9:22 PM]

"Forget it. Go ghost someone else."

She was gone.

And in that moment, he didn't care.

Because Lea was still there.

And she just owned every inch of him.

*****

Chapter 10 "You Shouldn't Want This"

(Lea POV)

Lea hadn't meant to push him that far.

Not tonight. Not yet.

She'd planned to flirt, maybe tease him a little. A picture, a voice message, a bit of her mouth just to make him ache. Not full on countdown domination. Not stripping his will down to the core and handing him his orgasm like a treat.

But the second she heard the whimper in his voice during that countdown, she changed.

That sound it wasn't just lust. It was surrender.

And that did something to her she wasn't prepared for.

She stared at her screen long after the last message sent.

"One."

A single word. And he broke for her.

She hadn't even seen it. But she knew.

The silence that followed. The lack of any message. The rawness in his last reply.

She imagined him sprawled on his couch, cum on his chest, hand still twitching, breath still uneven, head spinning.

Because she did that.

With her voice. With her words.

With her control.

She had never felt so powerful in her life.

And that scared the hell out of her.

It was never supposed to get this far. Not with Stefan.

Not with him.

He was the person she'd practiced not thinking about for years. The guy who'd sat beside her in study hall, whose hoodie she'd borrowed after gym, who once offered her half of his sandwich like it was an unspoken intimacy. She'd spent years keeping it friendly, careful, platonic. Because she'd thought if she crossed that line, she'd lose him completely.

Now they were way past the line. They were circling it in ash.

And she wasn't ready for what that meant.

She set her phone down and stared at the ceiling.

The room was dark except for the streetlight glow bleeding through her window blinds.

Her legs were still bare. She hadn't moved since the last countdown. She was still wet. Still warm. Still wired from the tension of holding him like that, stringing him along with numbers and soft, cruel words.

But now?

Now came the crash.

She picked the phone back up. Swiped into their chat.

Read everything.

"You're the only one I want to please."

"You own this."

Her stomach flipped.

Was this just a game still?

Or was she playing with something she didn't understand?

And worse

Did she want it to stop?

She opened the voice recorder again. Hit record. This time... slower. Honest. Less teasing. Still intimate.

"You shouldn't want this."

"You're not supposed to want me like this. I'm your friend. Or... I was."

"And I wasn't supposed to want you back."

"But I do. I do, Stefan."

"And if you tell me to stop, I will. But if you don't..."

"... I'm going to keep ruining you."

She stopped. Heart hammering.

Listened back once. Her voice didn't even sound like her. It sounded like a confession. Like a promise.

She attached the audio.

[Voice Message Sent -- 10:02 PM | 24 seconds]

Then, with her hand shaking, she added a text.

[Text to Stefan -- 10:02 PM]

"Still want me now?"

She didn't wait for the reply.

She turned her phone face down, crawled under the covers, and tried to sleep.

Tried.

But her fingers kept twitching, remembering what it felt like to hold herself open. Her lips tingled with the memory of that voice recording. And her heart wouldn't stop beating like she'd jumped off a ledge with no parachute.

Because the truth was...

She hoped he said yes.

Even if it wrecked them both.

*****

Chapter 11 "I Dreamed About You"

(Stefan POV)

He didn't respond to her message right away.

Not because he didn't want to.

But because he couldn't.

Because when she said:

"Still want me now?"

And then sent that voice note

her voice low, quiet, trembling around words like "I wasn't supposed to want you" and "I'm going to keep ruining you"

it broke something open in him.

Not his cock. Not just lust.

His fucking chest.

He had to sit with it. Let it settle. Let the truth of it sting.

Because he did still want her.

Too much.

And not just her mouth. Or her pictures. Or her voice ordering him to hold back.

He wanted to see her.

To touch her.

To ruin the last ten years of "just friends" with one long, messy kiss.

He didn't text back that night.

Instead, he dreamed.

In the dream, they were in his old room just like senior year.

That crappy blue couch. The sound of rain outside. The glow of a horror movie flickering across the TV.

Lea sat next to him in one of those faded concert tees she used to steal from her brother. No pants. Bare thighs against the couch cushions. Bare legs pressed close.

She looked over at him with that mouth the one she kept sending in photos now and said, "You can touch me, if you want."

He didn't say anything. Just reached for her.

And then his hand was sliding up the inside of her thigh, and her legs parted for him like it was always supposed to happen that way.

He woke up hard. Painfully hard. His cock tenting the sheets, leaking against his boxers.

And the first thing he did?

He opened their chat.

Her message was still there. So was the voice note.

He listened to it again.

Twice.

Then typed.

[Text to Lea -- 7:28 AM]

"I dreamed about you."

"You were in my old room. Just like back then."

"Only this time, you told me I could touch you."

"And you let me."

"You opened your legs and whispered 'finally.'"

He stared at the screen.

Then added:

"Woke up hard. Still am."

He didn't wait long.

Lea was already awake.

[Text from Lea -- 7:31 AM]

"That's not a dream, Stefan."

"That's a memory waiting to happen."

That reply made his breath catch.

He replied:

[Text to Lea -- 7:33 AM]

"Say something to me."

"Out loud."

"I want your voice in real time this time. Not a file. Not delayed."

"Call me."

Long pause.

Typing.

Then

[Text from Lea -- 7:34 AM]

"Okay."

"But only if you do what I say while we talk."

Stefan's cock pulsed hard against his waistband.

He didn't even need to type his answer.

His phone lit up with an incoming call.

Lea.

He answered it on the first ring.

"Hey," he said, voice dry, low.

There was a beat of silence. Then her voice, soft and clear in his ear.

"Take off your boxers."

His breath hitched. "Already hard."

"Good," she whispered. "Lay back. Let me talk."

He did.

Pulled them down. Let his cock spring free. Thick, heavy, aching.

Her voice stayed low.

"I want you to stroke it slow," she murmured. "Just like I imagined. Just like I've been imagining since the first night you sent that picture."

He moaned, palm curling around his shaft. "Lea..."

"No talking," she said softly. "Not yet."

He obeyed.

Her breathing was steady. Intimate. Like she was right there.

"You used to make me wet just from your voice," she confessed. "Before any of this. Before pictures, before phone calls. Just hearing you say my name in the dark..."

He stroked slower.

"Now I want to hear you. Come for me, Stefan. And say my name when you do."

That was it.

He exploded in his hand legs trembling, breath catching, groaning her name into the speaker like it was a prayer.

"Lea... fuck... fuck..."

There was silence.

Then her voice, so soft it was almost a smile:

"Good boy."

*****

Chapter 12 "Show Me Everything"

(Lea POV)

Lea didn't even recognize herself anymore.

Not in a bad way.

Not like regret.

But like discovery.

Like staring into a mirror and seeing not the safe version, not the curated self, but the raw one. The animal beneath the intellect. The girl beneath the friend. The woman who wanted Stefan not in secret not in shadowy, offhand thoughts but in full light.

Every time she sent him something, she expected guilt to follow.

But guilt never came.

Only heat.

And hunger.

And this intoxicating rush of knowing he would do anything she told him to do.

She was still trembling from their call.

That groan. His voice breaking as he came saying her name.

It haunted her in the best way.

She lay in bed, legs still parted, her body a slow pulse of unfinished need.

Stefan had come. She hadn't. Not yet. Not on that call. She could have, but she hadn't let herself.

Why?

Because she'd been holding something back.

Something she hadn't done yet.

She hadn't shown him everything.

Not really.

Mouth, yes. A sliver of tongue. Her voice, her words, her edges.

But not her.

Not naked.

Not undone.

And the thought that he might look at her like he did in her dream eyes wide, hungry, reverent was enough to make her clench hard around nothing.

She wanted that look.

She wanted to earn it.

She stood.

Pulled her oversized tee off.

Stared at her reflection in the full length mirror.

She wasn't flawless. Not filtered. Not posed. But she was herself.

The version she'd never let anyone see quiet, aroused, open. Not just skin.

Submission wrapped in control.

She hit record.

[Video Message -- 1 minute, 02 seconds]

The camera is still.

Lea stands back nude, vulnerable, confident.

Not performing. Offering.

One hand at her side. The other moving slowly down her stomach.

She speaks quietly:

"You said you wanted to see me."

"I wasn't sure I could show you. Not really. Not like this."

"But now I want you to have it."

"All of it."

Her fingers brush her thighs, then between.

"You make me feel... like I'm not pretending anymore."

"Like I'm not the smart girl, the safe girl, the friend zone girl."

"You look at me like I'm fuckable. Like I'm mine."

She steps closer.

Camera catches her curves, her nipples hard, her breath catching.

She touches herself. Once. Then again.

Then stops.

"If you want to see me come..."

"You'll have to show me something too."

She ends the recording before she can change her mind.

[Video Sent -- to Stefan -- 10:42 PM]

She immediately covered her face with her hands.

Not because she was ashamed.

But because it felt real now.

Because she knew... this wasn't flirting anymore.

It wasn't digital dirty talk.

This was her.

Naked. Honest. Wanting.

She didn't wait long.

His reply came in under a minute.

[Video Message from Stefan -- 55 seconds]

The shot is rough. Handheld. Shaky.

Stefan's on his back, thighs spread, chest bare. His cock is thick and flushed in his grip.

He's already leaking.

But what makes her gasp

is the way he's looking directly at the camera.

Like he's looking at her.

He strokes slow. Breathing heavy.

"You want to see me like this?"

"Because I've never been this hard for anyone else."

"I've never said someone's name like that when I come."

He moves faster now. Voice tight.

"You show me you and I'll give you all of me."

"Everything."

"You don't know what you do to me, Lea. You really don't."

The video ends as he groans low, legs tightening, body tensing.

No cum shot. Not yet.

Just the cliff.

And a promise.

Lea's hand was already between her thighs before the message finished.

She stroked slow.

Then faster.

Then harder.

Came once, moaning into her blanket, body curling inward.

Not quiet. Not performative.

Real.

Because this wasn't play anymore.

This was turning into something else.

*****

Chapter 13 "Offline"

(Dual POV -- Lea then Stefan)

[Lea POV]

They'd run out of ways to hide behind the screen.

There was nothing left to send. Nothing left to say through filtered videos or voice notes whispered in the dark.

At a certain point, the only next step was skin.

And she wanted it.

More than wanted.

She ached for it.

But still, she didn't know how to ask how to say:

Let me feel what your voice does to me with your actual hands.

Let me find out what it's like when you're not just a sound in my ear, but a weight pressing me down.

Then he sent the message.

[Text from Stefan -- 11:03 AM]

"I want to see you. Not just your body. You."

"No more filters. No edits. Just you and me."

She didn't think.

She just typed:

"Come over tonight."

She cleaned her whole apartment twice, threw on an outfit she'd picked a year ago and never worn for anyone, and laid a box of condoms on the nightstand just in case.

The moment she opened the door and saw him standing there real, nervous, hotter than she remembered everything in her clenched.

He looked wrecked already.

And he hadn't even touched her yet.

They didn't speak much.

Just eyes.

And then his hands found her hips.

And her mouth opened beneath his.

And suddenly the screen between them was gone, and everything they'd said, everything they'd confessed, came crashing into reality in the form of a desperate, heated kiss that made her moan before they even reached the bed.

[Stefan POV]

It was almost too much.

Lea.

In front of him.

No glass. No delay. No pixels. Just her.

And fuck, she smelled like warmth and arousal, and her breath hitched when he bit her lower lip. She made this tiny gasp when he pressed her to the bedroom wall and kissed the side of her throat.

Her hands fumbled with his jeans like her fingers forgot how to function.

"I want you inside me," she whispered. "Now."

They scrambled toward the bed, laughing and groping.

She grabbed the condom box from the nightstand and tossed it at him, breathless.

He tore it open, rolled the rubber down

and froze.

It. Did. Not. Fit.

The base pinched. The latex stretched too tight and left part of his shaft uncovered.

"Shit," he muttered.

"What?" she asked, flushed and confused.

"These aren't the right ones. These are... small."

Her eyes dropped to his cock.

"Oh my god," she whispered, half laughing, half stunned.

He chuckled, slightly red faced. "You bought the wrong size."

"Or maybe you were just never the size I was expecting."

The moment cracked something open between them a laugh, a flush, an undeniable hunger.

She grabbed another one, stretching it as best she could, and this time he managed to roll it on.

Barely.

It hugged his length like shrink wrap.

"Jesus," she whispered. "I can see your veins through it."

"Still want it?" he asked, hovering over her now, hips between her thighs, cock pressed against her soaked entrance.

She bit her lip.

"You're not allowed to cum until I do."

"Deal."

He pushed inside.

And fucking hell.

She clutched at his arms, mouth open, her eyes fluttering shut.

"Oh my fuck, Stefan."

The stretch was unreal. Hot. Deep. Filling.

He moved slowly at first, watching her react.

Each thrust pulled a moan out of her.

Then she gripped the back of his neck and dragged him down to kiss her messy, open mouthed, greedy.

"Harder," she begged. "Fuck me like I'm not your friend anymore."

He did.

He buried himself all the way in. Again. And again. Until her thighs were trembling and her cunt was clenching around him so tight he saw stars.

But he didn't cum.

He held back.

She told him not to.

And for her? He'd wait forever.

"God, Stefan don't stop," she whimpered.

"I won't."

"I'm oh fuck I'm so close "

He slammed into her deeper, faster, hips rocking hard as he groaned into her shoulder.

"You're mine," he growled. "Say it."

"I'm yours," she gasped.

"Good girl."

That did it.

She came hard around him, whole body shuddering, nails digging into his back.

And only when she whispered:

"Now, baby. Now. Fill it for me."

did he finally let go.

He buried himself as deep as he could go and came with a desperate, broken growl. The condom swelled, barely containing the hot rush of cum as he pulsed over and over inside her.

She moaned under him, kissing him through it.

Soft. Spent. Breathless.

"Worth the wait," she whispered.

"You have no idea," he said.