SnapShot : A Dark Small Town Romance

SnapShot : A Dark Small Town Romance

By Scarlett J. Aimer

Left on Read

one

The push notification comes through at the top of my phone screen, letting me know I have business to attend to after my video chat date with Charlie. My SnapShot account has been keeping the bills paid the last few months. It’s amazing how much people will pay to see a little skin or have a genuine conversation to abate their loneliness. Most of my clients are older men who have either been widowed or divorced for one reason or another.

The only issue I have so far is that the guy I’m sort of dating has no idea about my account, and I don’t know when the proper time to bring it up would be. Especially since we haven’t actually met in person yet.

We’ve been talking for about a month— video chatting mostly. He lives in the next town over and runs a restaurant that he hopes will eventually lead to a chain of several more. I can respect a man with goals. Though I don’t have many of my own at the moment.

When Grams got sick, all of my plans went out the window, along with my savings and my almost completed animal science degree. I wouldn’t trade the extra time I got with her for all the PhD’s in the world, though. I owed her my time. She was the only person who never gave up on me and gave me everything I needed. Granted, Pop was there too, but I was always closest to Grams.

“Everything okay, Haedyn?” Charlie asks as he peers into my soul through the screen.

“Yeah. All good. Sorry, I guess I spaced for a second.”

“That’s okay. I was just asking how your week was looking. I’d like to meet up soon.”

“We will. It’s just hard to make sure our schedules match up. You know I work ridiculous hours at The Dairy Bar.” It wasn’t technically a lie. I do work a lot, but I’m also internally freaking out about meeting him in person.

We grow up being told not to meet strangers from the internet; they could be serial killers. I guess he could be. I really have no way of knowing, but I don’t get that creepy vibe from him. Then again, famous last words and all that.

“I know, but I can’t wait much longer to get my hands on you.”

We’ve perfected the art of phone sex, to the point that my favorite toy is now kaput. He said he was sending me another in the mail, and I’m impatiently awaiting its arrival. My poor mail man probably thinks I’m insane the way I’ve been waiting for him at the end of the driveway each morning.

Those morning endorphins haven’t been hitting as hard without my trusty sidekick. I’ve never been one of those lucky girls who can get it done with just my hand.

“I can tell by the blush on your face that you’re thinking about it too, aren’t you?”

“Actually, I was thinking about how my patience is running thin waiting on that new toy to come in,” I quip with a smirk and a wink.

A dark chuckle comes through the phone before I hear him threaten, “Maybe I should just cancel my order so you’ll have to settle for the real deal.”

My eyes darken, “You wouldn’t.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time. I like to be in control, and maybe I want you deprived before I give you what you need.”

Is it suddenly hot in this room? Good god. This man is going to ruin me the second he gets his hands on me. I just know it. I use my loose tee to fan myself.

“What’s the matter, little brat? Getting hot?”

“Don’t flatter yourself. I’m cool as a cucumber over here. Why don’t you worry about yourself?”

“Oh, don’t you worry. I’ve got me,” he assures as I notice his arm moving up and down at the bottom of the screen. My jaw hits the floor. Not to mention my eyeballs are fixing to pop out of my skull. “Come on, don’t you want to come with me before bed? It’ll settle your nerves.”

“I just don’t think I’ll be able to. I’m not good at doing it myself. I need help.”

“I’ll help you. Touch yourself. Do exactly as I say. Close your eyes.” I feel a little silly and slightly embarrassed, but I do as he instructs.

“You’re already in your head. Take a deep breath and slide off your pants. Let me see you.” Letting out a deep exhale, I begrudgingly obey. “Good. Now skim your fingertips over the outside. Start slow. Focus on my voice. It’s me touching you, no one else. Tell me how I feel, baby.”

“You feel… good. Different.”

“That’s right. Now just barely graze your clit. Not too rough, just enough to feel it.” My fingertip wanders over the edge before my breath catches, a surprised gasp escaping my lips. “Press harder. Run your finger along its length.”

Just as I start to blindly obey, my bedroom door bursts open, followed by a surprised gaasp from my roommate, Kate.

“Shit. Sorry. Just came to see if you were still awake. Just letting you know I’m home. Carry on,” Kate says as she covers her eyes and backs out of the room.

This bitch and her impeccable timing. I’ll definitely be hounded about this later. Turning back to the screen, I try to regin my focus, but it’s lost.

“I’m sorry. My mentality is ruined now. There’s no way I’ll be able to get back into it. Call you later?”

“I’m sorry, too. You can count on it,” he assures with a crooked smile as I disconnect the call.

Time to get to work.

Opening the SnapShot app, I see one of my regular clients has requested another dominatrix pose and outfit. Classic. And I have the perfect bodysuit for it.

Using my crop whip that I stole from the barn, I pose in my faux leather outfit and catwoman-like mask, sporting the perfect black lipstick.

Satisfied with my work, I hit send so that I can afford the feed bill this month. Horses are expensive to keep fed, and I have three at the moment. It’s not like Grams had any life insurance to help settle her affairs when she left. Then again, no one expected her to die of cancer in her sixties.

When my phone dings, I naturally assume it’s a client. Imagine my surprise when it’s not.

Charlie: There are literally no words. What did I do to earn this? Because damn.

Fuck. Me. Sideways.

Obviously, we have sent nudes back and forth, but this is different. That picture wasn’t meant for him, and I’ve definitely never sent anything this kinky before.

What if he thinks I’m like some super freak now? Is he going to expect something like this when we finally meet face to face?

How am I going to explain this? How am I going to fix it?

Fuck. Well, I’ve had a good life. Now I’m just going to go crawl in a hole somewhere. Hopefully the coyotes find me and finish me off before I lose all sanity. Maybe they’ll make it quick. Painless.

This is a problem that can only be solved by one man. His name is Cactus Jack, and he always hits the right spot when mixed with some peach mango juice.

Putting my pajamas on and heading to the kitchen to make myself a tall glass of kill me now, my phone stays on the nightstand, powered off, leaving the message on read.

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