
The Night Stroker
Iron
- Joined
- Oct 2, 2024
- Posts
- 62
- Reputation
- 35
It was a lively Saturday night when I decided to hit the local café with my friend. As we laughed and enjoyed our drinks, two girls approached us, their laughter contagious. One of them, a vibrant redhead with a playful smile, asked for my Snapchat. Surprised but excited, I quickly gave it to her, not knowing where the night would lead.
After exchanging snaps, we quickly fell into a flirty rhythm. Our conversations turned playful, and soon, she began sending me some risqué pictures that made my heart race. I felt a rush of confidence, thinking maybe this night was turning into something special.
But then, out of nowhere, she asked for a picture of my face. My heart sank. I had always struggled with insecurities about my appearance, and the thought of sending a picture made me anxious. I scrambled for excuses, fidgeting with my phone as my mind raced.
“I’m not feeling great,” I typed back, hoping to buy some time. But as the moments passed, the excitement faded, and so did our chat. Eventually, the playful banter stopped, and just like that, we simply stopped talking.
After exchanging snaps, we quickly fell into a flirty rhythm. Our conversations turned playful, and soon, she began sending me some risqué pictures that made my heart race. I felt a rush of confidence, thinking maybe this night was turning into something special.
But then, out of nowhere, she asked for a picture of my face. My heart sank. I had always struggled with insecurities about my appearance, and the thought of sending a picture made me anxious. I scrambled for excuses, fidgeting with my phone as my mind raced.
“I’m not feeling great,” I typed back, hoping to buy some time. But as the moments passed, the excitement faded, and so did our chat. Eventually, the playful banter stopped, and just like that, we simply stopped talking.