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I wait as the little gray dots float, thinking about her pretty fingers touching the screen.

Drew: Rough day?

Me: Not so bad. Spent it working on an old car. Fix up for one of Dag’s friends.

Drew: Dagwood smelled like a distillery in church.

Me: He was throwing them back last night.

Another pause of dots.

Drew: You went out last night? I’m not going to lie and say I’m not hurt.

Me: Don’t be. I wanted to be with you.

Drew: You missed my butt?

My breath is shallow. How can a simple question make me feel so good?

Me: I’m more of a breast man.

Drew: Oh. My breasts aren’t very big. (sad emoji)

Me: Your breasts are perfect handfuls.

Drew: Perfect for you?

Me: Yes.

She has no idea.

Drew: Can you still feel them?

Me: Yes.

Drew: I can still feel your hands on them. I can still feel your tongue touching me.

The fly of my pants tightens. I can still taste her on my tongue. Shit, I’m getting a semi just texting with her.

Me: Are you getting ready for bed?

Drew: Yes, but I need some help. I’m lying on my stomach with my back arched. My ass is bare and lifted, and I need you behind me… pushing inside, deep.

My mouth goes dry. I can see what she’s describing in my mind, and it focuses my brain. I want her.

Now.

A quick glance out the window tells me the sun has set. It’s dark. Quiet.

Drew: Gray?

Me: I’ll help you with that. I’m trying to figure out how.

Drew: Come over. I’m waiting for you.

Me: But your dad.

Drew: Please come. I need you.