Page 49 of The Bad Girl

Nadine:I need your help. Not just for Tom, but with life. I need to start living.

Maxwell:And this requires sexting?

Nadine:Yes.

Maxwell:Fine then, consider it a stage performance…like yours from last night. If this goes too far, we stop.

Feeling bold, I take another picture. This time, I’m lying down, massaging my clitoris through my pink, lace panties.

He responds with a picture of his own. He’s in the same position, though his boxers are now removed—and holy hell—his cock magnificent.

Long, thick, and with a prominent ridge, it stands at attention, begging to play with me. I’ve seen no better, which isn’t shocking. Maxwell was born blessed, with money, movie star good looks, and a cock that’s worthy of fan fiction.

Oh, fuck! This was a mistake.

The temperature rises at least ten degrees in an instant, and I struggle to slip out of my robe.

Maxwell:Your turn.

I take another pic, though this time, I’m in only my bra and panties. After I hit send, I go back to rubbing myself.

Maxwell:Your panties are soaked.

He’s right. I’m almost embarrassed by how aroused I am, but Sweet Good Girl Nadine is gone and Bad Girl Nadine decides to lean into it.

Nadine:I’m wet for you.

Maxwell:You’re not playing fair.

Nadine:Whatever do you mean?

Maxwell:A bad girl would show me her pussy.

I flush red, unsure of what to do. At twenty-four, I’ve never sent a naked picture to a man before. I haven’t even taken one, partially over fear it would get out, and partly because it just seems so crass.

Oh, come on! He saw you spinning around a pole last night in your thong. Do it!

After viewing Maxwell’s considerable member, I find myself wanting to. I want to bare my body, tits and all, for his appreciation. Maybe last night’s performance unlocked something in me, I don’t know. All I can say for sure, is that I want Maxwell to see me.

But is he really going to appreciate you? After all, he’s dated some of the most beautiful women in the world. His Little Black Book is packed for a reason.

My stomach twists in knots, unsure of what I should do. I don’t want our conversation to end. If anything, I want him here with my, between my legs, pushing into me.

My phone buzzes with another text.

Maxwell:If you don’t want to—don’t. This is all for fun and practice.

Nadine:Thanks, I’m trying. Maybe if you lead the conversation, it will get easier for me.

Maxwell:God, you were so hot on that stage last night and seeing you in your panties makes me want to taste your sweet pussy.

My body surges in response to his filthy words.

Yes, Maxwell, eat my pussy like it’s a damn buffet. Come back for seconds—thirds. Eat to your heart’s content.

Maxwell:And after I’m done tasting you, I want to fuck your beautiful cunt senseless on that desk you keep so tidy.

My mind goes to the office. I’m sitting on my immaculate desk, legs spread. Maxwell is kneeling, pressing his face between my thighs, begging to taste my sex—