very slight smut, TBC with MORE smut tomorrow, feat. @thedolmainblog's Blythe because THEY DESERVE NICE THINGS
(1) Follow Aiden's advice despite the gut feeling something was a little fishy about it.
You stare at the small bounty of toys currently spread out across the bed with mild trepidation.
You knew how they all worked, between Aiden's sprawling collection and Sirris's overly helpful commentary when you'd bought them, but you can't help but feel a little nervous.
Aiden's words whisper in the back of your mind.
"Why don't you send Blythe a little motivation? He's probably miserable being away so long — I'd be willing to bet he'd get home even faster if he saw you using these."
And while everything Aiden said always seems a little suspicious, a little too much mischief in their genial smile, you hadn't been able to really fault their logic, and, well.
Blythe getting home sooner was a win-win, right?
(1) It takes you a little while to warm up, muster your courage, and then figure out how the hell to set up your phone at a good angle, but eventually you do it.
Your phone gallery becomes a treasure trove of mortifying pictures you plan on deleting as soon as you pick the ones to send to Blythe.
Each and every one has you dressed in only one of his shirts, unbuttoned all the way down, lounging against his bed in an array of alluring poses—
Each putting to good use one of the several different toys you'd purchased for this specific goal, from the small bullet vibe to the dildo that had most reminded you of his actual cock.
And then there's the video.
(1) A full five minutes of you riding your new toy in full view of your phone's camera, breasts bouncing as you fucked yourself to a shuddering, mewling finish.
And because you're you, and you have no intention of seeing his reaction in real time, lest you actually spontaneously combust — you schedule the texts to your boyfriend, timing each one about thirty minutes apart and finishing off your pseudo-care package with the video for last.
And then you take a shower, change into a different of Blythe's shirts, and fall asleep on his couch (because you get a little too lonely sleeping in his bed without him).
Your phone sits, forgotten on the bathroom counter, too far to be heard no matter how much it buzzes and vibrates.
(1) You have no idea what you've just set into motion.
