Post, Text, Fuck

A short Little Emily Dreams story

Forming a prequel to Suck, Plug, Spank

Post, Text, Fuck

by Emily Miller

— — —

"I can't relate to desperation
My give-a-fucks are on vacation
And I got this one boy, and he won't stop callin'
When they act this way, I know I got 'em"

Sabrina chirpily fills my ears with her Sun-drenched vocals as I compose my bio. Sure, if you look like her, the boys probably wouldn't ever stop calling. For us regular girls...? Not so much. Indeed pretty much never. But, I'd run out of fucks to give as well, hence my current form-filling.

I put the song on loop...

Age: I toy with the idea of pretending to be a teen. With my looks, I could probably get away with that. But no, honesty is the best policy, twenty-two it is.

Status: Single... d'oh! Then I reflect that quite a few members are probably seeking extramarital fun. But would they admit that in their profile? I decide I'm not really qualified to opine on this matter and move on.

Height: I type a wistful 5'4" knowing it's not true, but thinking that no one will bring a measuring tape with them.

Weight: Why is this important? Do some guys have a fetish for a certain number of pounds? Let's say one hundred.

Then I think, 5'4" and one hundred pounds sounds kinda anorexic. My conscience gets the better of me and I knock three inches off of the earlier field.

If a miracle occurs and I actually meet anyone as a result of this, they are most likely gonna be deeply disappointed in me anyway. So let's not give them one more reason to be so.

Build: Isn't that fucking obvious? I select 'Skinny' from the drop down.

Eye color: There's nothing that matches my weird combo, so let's say 'Blue.'

Hair color / length: Hmm... I guess that 'Blonde' is closer than 'Light brown.' Length? Do they want the number of inches? It's kinda between mid-length and long. I pick 'Mid-length.'

Bust size: I first enter 32B, then change the B to A. I'm going to be posting photos of myself as well, might as well be consistent with the images.

Pussy: I pick 'Shaved,' it's close enough.

Tattoos: None.

Piercings: Ears and belly.

Highest level of education: Seriously? I assume the form has been customized from a more generic one. No one on this site is gonna give a fuck about my Computer Science degree. Still, I select that option.

Hobbies: I consider writing: 'failing to attract any male attention at any of work, bars, or regular dating sites.' Then I reflect that this isn't exactly a great sales pitch. Instead I enter 'running and art house movies.' Why anyone viewing my details would care is beyond me.

Preferred role: There is no option for 'trying to figure that shit out,' so I go for 'Submissive.'

Next there is a lengthy section consisting of a series of expandable categories. An explanatory paragraph says that there is no need to fill everything in, just to complete any answers that you feel will help to match to like-minded people.

I click on Number / gender of partners: and get a list starting at One. Out of curiosity, I scroll down. It stops at Ten. I have an involuntary image of a red raw vagina flit across my mind. Shuddering a little, I scroll back up and pick 'Two.' A pop-up asks me to specify the gender of each, and I check the 'Male' box for both.

This is after all my key selling point, that I want to fuck with two guys. I hope it helps me stand out, but suspect it won't really compensate for my other many deficiencies.

I click on the next section, covering sexual acts. Each row has three checkboxes: Love:, Try:, and Avoid:. I click on the first box for 'Vaginal (receiving)' 'Cunnilingus (receiving),' and 'Fellatio (giving),' and the second for 'Deep Throat (receiving),' 'Face-fuck (receiving),' 'Anal (receiving)' and 'Spanking (receiving).' I figure that's more than enough for now, I can add things later if I so choose.

After this section comes a free text box in which you can enter whatever you like. More about yourself, about what you want, anything really. It's optional and I'm not so sure what to say. I consider leaving it blank, then type some words, almost on autopilot:

I want to be used by two men like the filthy slut I am

Did I just write that? What the fuck is wrong with me? I think about deleting it, but I know it's true. I take a breath, press 'Save,' and move on.

The next page is where you can upload photos. There is some ass-covering legalese about the site accepting no liability for privacy breaches, especially if a member posts a photo in which their face is visible. I'm not going to do that, my face isn't going to attract too many guys, so I skip to the end.

Photos? I took so many, and rejected so many. Finally there were two which didn't make me want to throw up. One in classic lingerie, one nude, but with an arm wrapped around my meager breasts, and a hand covering my vulva. I'm not sure that I'd want to fuck the woman in the images, but it's the best I've got. I look at the thumbnails and try to get inside the head of a guy reviewing them. But it's no use.

I'd had to provide an email to get a link to this page, and - something that had given me pause - a phone number to authenticate. Then my needs had taken precedence over caution. All that remained was to select a screen name.

"Thinkin' 'bout me every night, oh
Is it that sweet? I guess so
Say you can't sleep, baby, I know
That's that me espresso"

The name I first choose is taken - big surprise - but I add a year and Espresso03 is available.

"Thinkin' 'bout me every night, oh"

If only, I think to myself, and press 'Submit.'

— — —

And then what? Well, I'm not so foolish as to think anything will happen quickly. For a start, the site said it reviews all submissions. For a hook-up joint, they have some puritanical views on people uploading photos of actual sex. They also seem to want to screen for sex workers, the site is meant to be for non-commercial fucking only. Then I'd seen plenty of "seeking a sugar daddy" type profiles.

It's kinda late, and I have work tomorrow. I should sleep. But, when I try to close my eyes, my thoughts wander back to the site. It's really a long shot, but what if it works?

I realize that - sleepy as I am - I'm also aroused. I know my body, and that it won't let me rest until its needs are met. "Alexa, turn on the nightstand light." I get a cheerful, "OK," and a soft light illuminates half of my bed.

I like to masturbate nude, so I pull off my T shirt, and wriggle out of my shorts and panties. I reposition my pillows, plumping them up, and then get comfortable. I briefly consider getting my bullet out of the nightstand drawer, but maybe it's a manual night.

Closing my eyes, I bring an image to the front of my consciousness. Me, as nude as I am now, but on all fours. I open my mouth to take Guy One inside. I don't need names, I'm not even sure these sexual avatars have faces. But they have nice, big cocks. Faceless Guy Two is behind me and I can feel him rubbing his head between my butt cheeks.

I have to extrapolate, I've played with putting a single finger in my ass, but never been brave enough to do more. It's OK, I have a good imagination. As I try to think what being anally penetrated would actually feel like, my hands squeeze my small breasts. My nipples are already stiff little towers. I imagine large, rough fingers tweaking them, as I do exactly that myself.

Guy One is now sliding himself into my mouth, I unblinkingly take him, my throat a slick, welcoming sleeve enveloping the long, thick intruder. My hand finds my clit, and I whisper to myself, "You're such a good little cock-sucker." I yearn to hear those words in real life.

As I begin to massage myself, softly and slowly at first, and then with greater pressure and increased frequency, I imagine my tight ass stretching to accommodate Guy Two's equally long and thick organ. Again, I breathe to myself, "That's it, fuck my tight ass, show me what a nasty anal whore I really am."

I'm pinching one nipple so hard now that it brings tears to my eyes, but my fevered masturbation is fanning the flames, flames that burn higher, beginning to consume me. I relinquish my breast, and transfer attention to my tingling opening. I know already just how wet it will be, as I slip a finger inside.

I'm rubbing and fingering harder now, as - in my mind's eye - Guy One begins to face-fuck me, while Guy Two's balls slap against my ass, his full length deep inside my quivering anal cavity. I can't make full sentences anymore. Instead, as my passion rises and throbbing heat starts to course through my trembling body, I moan, "Yes... yes... yes... yes..."

And then, at the very zenith of my ascent, just as my words became semi-strangled groans, and my body surrenders totally to my agitated fingers urgent dance, a chime rings out clearly.

Of course I ignore it. My surging climax will not be denied my full and undivided attention. But, as I get my breath back, I reach out, eyes still closed, and fumble for my phone. Waking it, I peer through unfocused slits, trying to resolve the words.

Hi, Espresso03, you have one new message

Fuck!

— — —

I sit up and grab my reading glasses. Yes, I had not been mistaken. I open the message, it's from someone calling themselves 2big4U. Despite my general discombobulation, I smile at yet another example of male vanity. It reads:

Hi Espresso03 - always nice to see new people - my friend and I would love to get to know you a little better. His screenname is BigBoy96. Maybe we can help you find what you are looking for.

It's not what I was expecting. Sure he's direct, but also kinda polite. 'Get to know you better,' sounds like a good opening line. And - will wonders never cease - no dick pic. Though, I have to admit to myself that I'm kinda curious about whether the pair live up to their pseudonyms.

2big4U's name in the message is a link, so I figure I'll check out his profile before replying. His main photo is as headless as my own, but features him in jeans pulling his T-shirt up to reveal abs that are nicely defined, but not so much as to suggest a fixation with appearance.

Reading the bio, he claims to be early thirties, single, and to be into group sex. He mentions his friend again, and provides a link to his page. I make a note to check him out.

In the section where I had expressed my slutty needs, he says that it's disrespectful to force nude photos onto other users, but that anyone curious can check out his gallery. I'm curious, and fuck! his screen name isn't an exaggeration. I don't generally seek out photos of phalluses, but if I did, I'd be happy to find this guy's cock.

I'm not wholly naive, and I do a reverse image search, but no, he doesn't seem to have stolen anyone else's photos. Maybe he's legit.

I realize that my arousal is returning, and that I really want to reply. But let's take a look at the other guy first. I hit 'back' and scroll up, clicking on the BigBoy96 link. It's the same story, a suggestive, but not explicit main photo. Viewing his gallery, Guy Two is maybe marginally less long, but also kinda thick.

I'm trembling, and go back to my inbox. Pressing reply, I add BigBoy96 to the message. My hand is actually shaking as I type:

Hi, I checked out both your photos and yeah you definitely have potential 😬. I like that you want to chat. But it's past my bedtime. Can we pick this up tomorrow?

I find myself going back to the galleries, and stroking my genitals as I look at theirs. Another chime. Shit they are keen. I wonder how many other women they are talking to. It's from Guy One again.

Sure, glad you liked our photos. Take your time, it's better to explore what everyone wants. That means no surprises and no disappointment. Drop us a line when you want to talk more.

He seems OK, then maybe he's playing a long game. I feel a sudden impulse, and click on 'attach file,' opening my photo album. I find one that I kinda liked but rejected as too explicit. I'm holding myself open with both hands and I like how my pink interior glistens with evident excitement.

I hit 'send' before my better judgement cuts in. Then I can't settle again, I know I'm hoping for a reply. It feels like I've been waiting a long time, but I can see it's only three minutes.

And there it is:

Very nice, looks hot and full of flavor, just like espresso. Speak tomorrow.

I clasp my hands together and squeal. I know I mustn't get carried away, it's just a few messages. But I need to masturbate again before I can fall asleep.

— — —

I went to sleep much too late last night, and my alarm hits me like an unseen tree branch. I press snooze. Then I remember. I grab my phone, and check the site for messages. Yes! There is one. I eagerly open it, but it's from cuntfucker69 - a screenname I assume is as aspirational as it is offensive - and the unsolicited photo is almost as unimpressive as the name. Block!

But that's it, nothing from 2big4U or even his sidekick BigBoy96. It's kinda a let down, I assume they have found a more womanly potential playmate. But I can't stress about this now, I'm late for work.

I shower and dress in record time, and am at my desk by 8:30am. There's a stand-up at 9am, and I'm meant to give an update. Hmm... "Two potential guys identified who might fuck me at the same time. Blocker is they seem to have ghosted me." Not sure what my scrum master can do to unblock me. Oh well!

Given I'm the only engineer who has actually completed their backlog items, I'm honored to inherit some from colleagues. This happens a lot, I wonder if they are happy to shed the work, or jealous that it's been transferred to me. Anyway, can't worry about that now, I am busy for two and half hours.

As I finish the second item, I reflect that both of these have been languishing for some time. I might lack the type of looks that grab guys' attention, but I'm a fucking good developer. I wonder if some men might find that hot in a woman.

My thoughts are turning to first lunch and - given I've finished all my own work, and that of two coworkers - how to fill my afternoon, when my phone chimes. No one is around, the occupants of the two adjoining desks are working from home today. I check my messages. It's Guy One:

Hey, coffee cutie...

I can't decide if that's cute or cringe, maybe a bit of both.

... didn't want to pressure you, but thought I'd make sure you knew we are still interested. Hope to hear from you soon.

I look around me, no one is paying much attention to me. Surreptitiously, I type:

Hey, at work, so might not answer immediately, but - if you wanna get to know me - then AMA

So he does, and I answer, and it feels kinda nice. Like he really wants to know. He doesn't start with the sexual, it's more just about me. Any time I say that I'm not comfortable with a question, he apologizes and backs off.

I end up asking him stuff as well, though most of what I get is on his profile page anyway. Then it's me who changes the topic. I ask him how he knows his partner in crime. He says they grew up together. I ask why they joined the site. He's open, says that BigBoy96 had a girlfriend who talked them into a threesome. They'd both enjoyed it. Then his friend had found the site.

I ask an obvious question, how many women have the pair of them tag teamed? His answer is immediate: six women, but some of those more than once. I find the 'more than once' somewhat encouraging, then he could be making it all up.

And then the loxodont in the lodging, why me? There is a longer pause before his reply.

You were matter-of-fact, you didn't oversell yourself, you just said what you wanted. I like that. And your photos? Well you are so our type.

I can feel my cheeks warming and assume they are glowing red.

It's crazy, irresponsible, dangerous maybe, but it feels right. I open the camera app, hold up my phone and click. I'm not looking for a flattering image, I kinda want warts and all, no filters. The first snap will do. I write:

Would you want to fuck this woman?

and attach my selfie. I wouldn't be surprised if he makes some excuse and leaves the chat. I wouldn't be surprised if I never heard from him again. I'm no oil painting, heck I'm no toddler's crayon scribble. But when I get a reply, surprised is not the word, it's more flabbergasted.

So pretty. Where and when?

Feeling that my jaw has hit my desk, I re-read the message. I know I'm being pathetic but I need to be sure.

Was that message meant to be for me?

Two heart beats...

I'm not talking to anyone else 🤷

Once again, fuck!

— — —

So here I am, it's Saturday and nearly 11am. We'd agreed to meet at my small apartment. It seemed safer, but I'm not so sure that safe is at the top of the list of my feelings right now. I'm dressed normally. Guy One - he thinks no names is better - had said we'd take our time, have a chat together first. I'd been all about getting down to things, but he'd said to take it slow.

He said first anal is a big emotional thing, and that it's better to do that once we are all comfortable with each other. Maybe he's right. This is all so new to me. He had the same advice about my other kinks. His plan for today was: spend some time together, fuck, and see if I wanted to go further next time.

Fuck? That meant my first time with two guys - and my first time with any guy for nearly a year - I tell myself that is more than enough for now. It feels like a lot sitting here waiting, waiting and knowing they will be here soon.

I pace around, not that there is much room to pace. Five minutes to go. Will they even turn up? Maybe it's all an elaborate prank; make fun of the needy, ugly girl. I can recall being stood up for dates, I can recall too many occasions. The feeling that everyone was looking at me, the tiny, awkward girl, in way too short a dress, and looking kinda desperate.

The buzzer makes me jump. Shit! They are here!

I run to the intercom, the thump of my heart deafening. There they are there, both of them. Fuck, they are there! My throat is too dry to answer their 'hi's, I just press the button and they disappear into the building. They already have my apartment number.

I feel I'm going to vomit, what the fuck was I thinking? I bend forward, my hands on my knees and focus on breathing. The nausea passes. You can do this, girl! You want this. I touch myself between my jean-clad legs, that feels better. A weird mixture of soothing and exciting.

There is a knock on my door. One more deep breath and I go to answer it. Their faces are distorted in the peephole, but I can see they are smiling, trying to look reassuring.

I hesitate. I don't have to do this. I could...

Then I realize that I've already opened the door.