I decided to send another text. "I'm here.", I typed. It was a standard motel--not good, but not trashy. When my phone vibrated and the room number popped up, my stomach dropped. This was it. Do I follow through and risk it being a trap or do I call it a night and be proud I made it this far?I remembered the picture of the girl. She was petite with long, black hair, pale skin, and small breasts. Exactly my type. The photo had a clean room and she even smiled in the picture. I imagined walking in and seeing her in the same lingerie that the photo featured--thin, black lace that revealed her pink nipples and succulent clit. Fuck it. If it's a trap, oh well., I thought.I walked through the light drizzle of rain, up some stairs, and to the door. My heart was pounding, but I worked up the courage to knock.She answered with a smile and invited me into the dimly lit room. There was a slight smell of cigarettes but nothing that could distract heavily from the beauty in front of me. Although. There were years of sexual tension built up that was about to be released during their encounter. It started a few months before when the friendship turned to innocent flirting. Carmela would text playful emojis with sexual innuendos and would cuddle up to Alex when they hung out. Alex always responded back flirty and the texting eventually turned very sexual. The few sexual encounters she had prior to Alex were not mind-blowing as she had imagined sex would be.Carmela texted Alex while drunk and told him she wanted to fuck him. Alex was very much into her and responded in kind. He wanted her as much as she wanted him. She told him she wanted to be manhandled and shown what sex really should be like. She wanted him to make her orgasm for the first time. When she awoke to read what she had written to him, she kept it going. They sexted back and forth for a few days until Alex couldn’t wait any longer. He texted her: “You need to come over tonight. Wear your sexiest outfit and be ready.
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