(Short Story) Picture Perfect

She twisted and turned looking for good angles to capture herself on camera.

Soft glowing skin; check.

Nice perky breasts; check.

She tried to straighten her back for the perfect photo of her breasts. They were perky and ready for their moment.

Perfect picture of that ass; umm..

She bent different ways trying to capture the perfect ass shot. Would it work if she held the camera behind her? Would it look better if she just used the mirror as a reflection to show what she was working with? There wasn’t much back there. In her mind she liked to think of herself as a thick chick, but in reality the thickness was lacking on her backside. She was built more like Miley Cyrus than Trina. However, he wanted the picture.

“Don’t disappoint me,” He’d told her earlier.

But what she was really afraid of was disappointing herself. In a society where online dating and everyone flirting with everyone else out in the open was popular, she was still craving the traditional love. Where’s the man that would take her to the movies? Where is the man that would proudly hold her hand as they go to a brand new restaurant, a very packed concert, or even just for a walk in the park? She didn’t know.

However, she did know that there were men waiting behind computer screens for photos where she posed strictly for attention. Some wanted to see the photos where she was half naked or had nothing on. They begged for an ass shot, or a peek at those perky breasts. They yearned for a peek at her masturbating, even if only through pictures sent via social media messages. Even a picture of her fake cooking at the stove in a sexy outfit was good enough for some men. She could even go viral getting more attention than anyone woman really craves depending on how entertaining her background was. It just wasn’t enough to satisfy her. Each time she received a request, she couldn’t help but wonder why they never seemed to want more.

“I know what you like,” he’s said upon sending her his own picture just to even things out.

He thought he knew. He thought that by sending his dick to her it would make her more comfortable giving him whatever he asked for; lots of pictures, freaky talk that never lead to anything past a social media message, ideas of how they’d make perfect lovers that never became reality. He made up his mind a long time ago that she was only sex obsessed. Somewhere in between all the typing he completely ignored the fact that she wasn’t looking for virtual affection. She wanted him, but in the flesh.

Soft glowing skin; she had that.

Perfect picture of those perky breasts; he would like that.

That ass shot; she tried her best.

“Don’t disappoint me.” His written words echoed over and over in her head. He wasn’t her man. To the very public eye he already had a girl that he was in a seemingly happy relationship with. To her it was clear that he wanted more, but she wasn’t his girl. She had no obligation to give him what he wanted.