1. Double Tap

Transcript

In the mornings, my routine is simple. I turn on my Nespresso machine, flick the TV to the news channel, and scroll through socials while my drink brews. Today is no different.

The sun's out, and I'm ready for my caffeine fix. Twitter, done. Snapchat, done.

So I open Instagram. New notification, Vic the Tee has liked your photo. First of all, who is Vic the Tee? Clicking on her profile, I'm taken to a carefully put-together grid showing a 20-something woman's life of brunch, dog hangs, and laughter.

She's very cute. A brunette with large eyes and a kind smile, but why did she like my photo? I flick back to my profile.

It's a good pic. I'm at a lake, looking out to the water, shirtless and tan, but the picture is from three years ago. So Vic the Tee has been snooping.

This is an accident I'll like. I go back to her page and study it further. Her real name is Victoria Thompson, and she's not even following me.

I'm scrolling up and down, looking for clues, when it suddenly hits me. Vicky Tee. If this is who I think it is, she was a year below me in high school.

A bit quiet, very smart. I saw her parties our mutual friends through. Well, she has blossomed.

I remember her being pretty, but conservative, although she was never short of boyfriends. But why has she liked one of my pictures from years ago? I'm not often at a loss, but I don't really know what to do here.

Maybe I'll just ignore it. I sip my coffee and watch TV for a while, but I can't stop thinking about this unexpected like. Eventually, I open the app again, but the notification is gone.

She's dirty deleted. Okay. Okay.

I don't know about where you're from, Vicky Tee, but in my house, we own up to our mistakes. Even when they're this embarrassing. I tap the message icon and type.

If that was a cunning ploy to get my attention, you have it. Send. The reply comes almost immediately.

Ooh, busted. I'm so sorry. This is wildly humiliating.

I type. I'm flattered, really. Then I have an idea.

On her profile, I scroll back and back until I'm three years deep in her pics. Finding a good picture of her, a selfie against a wall of lights. I like it.

OMG, why are you so obsessed with me? Okay. Maybe I spoke too soon about her not rolling with her mistakes.

Over the next couple of messages, we confirm that we do actually know each other and catch up on what we're doing these days. But I have to ask, why were you scrolling so far back? She starts to type, then stops, then starts again.

Here we go. Well, I've already embarrassed myself once tonight, so I might as well tell you the truth. Me and the girls were talking about our school days, and I mentioned I always had a crush on you.

They told me to see if you were on Instagram, and I guess I got carried away. I don't want her to feel bad, so I make a joke. Well, what was it that you liked so much about me at school? The terrible cut, the pimples, my voice breaking almost a whole year? She sends two crying laughing emojis in response.

Then… Well, you've certainly aged well. Oh, really? And so have you.

I type back. I'm not gonna lie, I'm feeling pretty good about this interaction. She sends back a blushing emoji.

I decide to go for it, especially in that blue sundress photo. The photo in question is stunning. She's in a local park, posing next to a pond and the dress was skimming her upper thighs.

In the right context, it could be really, really erotic. Yeah, that one's fine. But I'd have thought you'd prefer the red bikini one.

Well, of course I do. She's wearing a bikini. She's dripping wet.

Her body is incredible, and I'm honestly trying not to get turned on by it. I might be failing. Yep, that one works for me.

There's more where that came from. Well, she's definitely got my attention now. I settle back on the sofa and idly dip my hands between my legs.

I'm a little bit intimidated by how forward she is, but it's also ridiculously hot. I'm already half hard. I leave my hand resting there and wait to see how things go.

Go on, I type. Outdoor or indoor? Indoor.

A picture pings through. She's standing by a large, bright window wearing a silky slip dress that could double as lingerie. It clings to her breasts and her hips.

The light makes it appear almost see-through. Her nipples are hard against the thin fabric. My cock swells.

I send a love heart eye emoji. Peek-a-boo or cheeky? She sends back.

Cheeky. The next photo is one from behind. She's looking over her shoulders with a teasing smile.

All she has on is a tiny thong, the slimmest strip of fabric disappearing between her two pert cheeks. As I tent my sweatpants, as my dick stretches up and out in reaction, I grasp the tip through the soft fabric and squeeze softly. Before I can reply to her, another question appears.

Vanilla or spicy? Spicy. This one makes my cock throb.

Vicky's wearing a sheer, long-sleeved bodysuit underneath a black leather harness top that attaches to a collar at her neck. I've held off for far too long. I slip my hand underneath my sweatpants and start stroking my dick.

She looks incredible. And my combination of morning glory and this unexpected arousal means I am hot and tingling and too excited. With my free hand, I send an eggplant emoji.

She responds with a selfie. She's lying back on her loose sheets that are strategically placed to barely cover her tits. I can see her curves and her nipples through the cotton.

I stand up, cover my erection, and snap a picture of my bulge and my sweats. She sends back a water droplet emoji. Then quickly after that.

.. What haven't you tried but want to? Shower together or watch porn together? I've never watched porn with a partner, so that's my choice.

One hand still working my dick, completely overcome with arousal that this is the way this interaction is going. I picture her in the same bed from her selfie watching her favorite videos and touching herself. I want to know the sound she makes when she rubs her clit.

And I want to see her face when she comes. The thought of it is so hot. My dick is so hard.

And I'm definitely on the way to cumming. Then she sends the next question. Use a vibrator together or a massage with oils? Both of those would be new to me.

I'm so excited by the thought of essential slippery sex after being worked into a frenzy by her rubbing me all over, but. .. I have seen the videos and know how amazing vibrations can be on a hard cock.

Vibrator, I reply. I go back to her Instagram page and I flick through some more bikini photos, increasing the speed of my strokes. I'm near the edge now.

I need to stop every few seconds to keep from going over. My cock's draining and wet with pre-cum. I can only take a few forensic strokes at a time, but I can't stop flicking from pic to pic.

Tomorrow night, Castle Bar or Freedman's? Freedman's. Be there at 9 p.m.

She signs off. I open the red bikini photo again and I pull my shirt off, aiming my dick at my belly. I jerk raggedly as the pressure builds up from the pit of my stomach, traveling up my shaft where it pauses briefly and swells until I'm cumming all over myself.

My thighs constrict and my eyelids flutter as my dick convulses and my balls tighten. Then I squeeze gently as the aftershock rolls through me. When I catch my breath, I come to my senses a bit.

This kind of thing never happens to me, so I worry it might have been catfished. I examine Vicky's profile a bit longer and nothing seems out of the ordinary. To be extra sure, I search her name on Facebook and discover she's using the same profile picture on both accounts.

It looks like this is legit. While I'm still thrown off by her interest in me, I obviously am madly flattered and intrigued. I suppose I've got until tomorrow night to work on my flirting.

If she's this forward over DMs, I wonder what she's like in real life. Thanks for watching!