Here’s Why You Should Send Nudes
By: Claire Lowe
Tags: Short Story, Erotica, Sex, Sexuality, Self

Here’s Why You Should Send Nudes

The erotic story of self-discovery

Photo by Joe Ciciarelli on Unsplash

Let me start by confessing something: when I first sent nudes, I got obsessed with it.

Those pictures made me feel powerful. I had found a new level of intimacy that I had never experienced before. The feeling was like eating chocolate — sweet, and the more you have, the more you want it.

Soon, I became a pro in taking nudes. Sometimes I wouldn’t even send them: I was happy enough with having the picture for myself. I tried out different angles, lights, and lingerie. I even told my closest friends about it and shared my new photography knowledge with them.

It was a delightful hobby.

On a regular Thursday night, I was struggling with my assignments for my lectures. No matter how long I stared at the blank page on my computer, I couldn’t start writing that essay. As usual, when I find a task difficult, I started to procrastinate.

I reached out to my phone and opened my photo gallery to get inspired. Earlier that week, I had bought a new bra, and I was dreaming about taking a picture wearing it. It was red, with delicate laces, and it made my boobs look bigger. I was in love with that bra.

As I stood in front of the mirror and took the picture, I wondered what Brice, my latest crush, would think.

Brice was nearly perfect: he was sweet, respectful, and hot. However, I still wasn’t sure if I wanted a serious relationship. I had decided I wouldn’t send him that picture. Instead, I’d wait to surprise him in person.

At that point, my mind was insanely busy fantasizing about my next date with Brice. My assignment was long forgotten — I thought I might as well give up.

I lay on my bed, remembering Brice’s warm body on top of mine. My hand made its way slowly to my underwear and found my wet pussy. Without hesitating, I entered myself with two fingers. I moved my hips towards my hand while imagining Brice gently sucking my nipples.

With my other hand, I grabbed my boob and pinched my nipples softly. My hand was a bit cold, which gave me chills. I kept moving as the pleasure built up, adjusting the rhythm according to my desires. For a moment, I felt like the queen of the world.

I remembered having Brice’s penis inside of me, and I wanted more.

My fingers weren’t enough. I reached out for my sex box, right next to my bed. There, I found condoms, lube, and my favorite dildo. It was purple and had three different vibration intensities.

I started it on level two and started playing. It was indeed way better than my fingers. Sudden waves of pleasure took over my body, and I closed my eyes. I thought of Brice fucking me hard, and I moved the dildo even faster.

In my imagination, Brice would turn me around and fuck me doggy-style. He would grab my hair and pull me towards his sweaty body while I’d moan in complete pleasure, extremely happy to satisfy his needs. I opened my eyes, and it brought me back to reality.

I was ready: I raised the vibration level to full speed.

As a response, I felt a huge wave of ecstasy, and my instincts started to take action. My fingers moved instinctively to my clit and started massaging it. At first, it was slow, but soon the moves were adjusted to the intensity of my dildo.

The mixture of the dildo and my fingers was mind-blowing. The pleasure grew stronger with every second until I reached the climax. When I came, I felt the familiar sensation of relaxation and extreme sexual energy.

I was done. For some minutes, I stood in my bed — slight sweaty, heavy breath, and completely satisfied. Once I recovered, I looked at my picture again.

I couldn’t help myself: I sent it to Brice. It was too good to be kept as a secret.