Abby Has Gone Wild

It was just supposed to be a one time thing,
posting a naked picture of herself on a social website that has
hundreds of other women doing the same thing. Only it very quickly
hooked Abby on the high of knowing that others desired her body.
Until it’s just one man that has her full attention. Jack is
gorgeous and he wants her and it’s Abby’s worst luck, she believes,
that he’s in the same city of Austin. Abby isn’t ready for more
than what she can give from behind the safety of her keyboard. But
Jack won’t take no for an answer when her body and her moans are
telling him yes. Tracking her down Jack is even more enticing in
person than from behind the computer and she can’t ignore that her
body wants him just as badly as he wants her. Jack won’t give up on
her and Abby has to decide if she’s willing to give up the safety
of being alone to let Jack in.

Abby has Gone Wild

By Fiona Murphy

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2013 by Fiona Murphy

With thanks to my beta readers

Ari B.

Jordana B.

Rachel S.

Linda D.

All rights reserved

The characters and events portrayed in this
book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead
is coincidental and not intended by the author.

Cover design by Cheeky Covers

Blinking, my eyes feel gritty and checking
the time I know I need to give up on the work I brought home and
decompress for a little while, before going to bed or I’ll lay in
bed for hours without sleep. Tomorrow is Friday and a VP from
corporate home office is coming in and I need to not look like a
zombie. I save my work and then shut down my assigned work laptop.
I settle into the couch and bring up my personal laptop. After a
few minutes browsing my usual sites I give in and go to the one I’m
really dying to visit. As the site loads I can already feel myself
growing wet with anticipation of what will be waiting for me.

The site is as addictive as meth and away
from it I’m sane enough to curse the day I went on it, almost a
year ago. I’d heard of it and saw links to post news stories to the
site but hadn’t cared enough to check it out. Then I overheard
someone at work talking about it and gone on that night. At first
it had seemed fun, clicking on the posts, some informative some
ridiculous and the number of adorable kittens had been lengthy and
hilarious. For a few weeks that was all it was and then one night,
suffering from insomnia I had clicked far beyond the first few
pages and I saw it. A woman had posted pictures of her naked
breasts and the replies were long and lengthy, I could understand,
the woman had very nice breasts. The pictures were on a specific
area of the site that would show all posts in a similar vein.

Curiously, stupidly, I clicked on the link.
Post after post showed women in various poses, some only showed
their breasts, others everything. As I clicked, I’d read the
responses and grown turned on. Despite the fact it had been years
since I’ve been with a man or maybe because it had been so long, I
wondered what the response would be if I posted pictures. Pulling
off the satin nightshirt, that was all I wore to bed, I studied my
body in a way I hadn’t in years. I’m petite, only five foot three
but I’m not tiny. I fluctuate often between a size eight and ten.
I’ve always been proud of my breasts, because they are large for my
size, a full size D. They are nicely rounded and full and tip up
with the areola almost an inch wide in pale pink, my nipples
thicken to hard tips like the rubber tips from a pencil, when I’m
aroused. Although my stomach went into a nice curve, my hips are
wide and my ass is as full and round as my breasts.

It was just supposed to be once, just
curiosity driving me. Were my breasts as good as I thought they
were, or my areola and nipples too large and unattractive? I’d
taken a picture of my breasts in the sexiest bra I could find, a
red lacy push up and then one without the bra, my nipples hard from
the excitement of what I was doing. Careful to keep my face well
out of the picture. it had taken a few before I was satisfied.
Creating a throwaway handle I’d posted the pictures and gone back
to bed.

The next morning I went about my day as I
normally would and then on my lunch break I decided to surf the
site and see if there were any responses, hoping for at least more
than a handful. Clicking on the mail icon I was astonished at the
number of responses, almost four hundred mostly men and even a few
women had sent me messages. Message after message had remarked on
my body, all of them positive, some had been witty and thankful,
others perverse and raunchy in their appreciation. Several had
included pictures of their dicks, hard they swore, just for me.
Reading them, I’d been shockingly turned on and stunned to realize
I was wet at the responses to my body.

Embarrassed and grateful that I’d eaten lunch
at my desk, I tucked my phone into my desk and forced myself to try
and focus on work. Yet, only a few minutes later I found myself in
the restroom, unable to focus because of how wet I was. As I ran
the toilet paper over myself I was stunned at how turned on I
became at the pressure over my now swollen tissues. Need had hit me
and I did something I’d never even contemplated before. I widened
my legs and touched myself, there, and with only a few light
touches to my clitoris I was gasping in a shockingly strong orgasm.
With trembling hands and shame I wiped again and quickly got myself
together. I washed my hands, grateful no one else was in the other
stall and couldn’t even look at myself in the mirror.

The day had been hard to get through and I
left right at five, which wasn’t my normal time. Most of the young
accountants in the firm, trying their hardest to advance were
usually there until six thirty or seven, despite coming in at
eight. That day I hadn’t even hesitated. I left without even a
goodbye to my friend and coworker Claire, who I usually walked out
with.

My body began to hum as I made my way home
and I’d shut the door with a bang. Undressing as I went, I pulled
off my black blazer and boring gray shell. By the time I was in my
bedroom I was pushing down my black skirt and plain white briefs.
Tumbling down into bed, I reached into the bedside table and pulled
out my vibrator. I worked the clasp of my tan serviceable bra and
freed my tight, swollen breasts. My nipples were hard and I tugged
and twisted them as the vibrator moved inside me easily, no lube
was needed, as it so often was. My mind ran through the pictures,
at the thought of all those men hard for me. It wasn’t long before
I hit my climax and floated away in a sea of awe at the
response.

Despite the promise that it was just that
once, it had started an addictive merry go round. It had taken a
week of daily messages begging for another post or even a private
viewing before I gave in and posted another picture of my bare
breasts in the bright morning light. My body, so long ignored had
come alive and been greedy for the attention. Overnight, I’d gone
from about once a month to two or even three times a week sessions
of touching my self and sometimes using my vibrator. After another
week I gave in and pulled down my panties and taken pictures of my
pussy, open and with my fingers playing inside. Again, I was
careful to keep my face out of the picture. I’m bare due to laser
treatments that were more to prevent recurring issues with painful
ingrown hairs but I knew it was what men found attractive. My
messages tripled, begging for more, for contact and my number. It
had been overwhelming, too much for me. I’d backed away and stopped
for almost a month.

Then it had happened. Another night of
insomnia had driven me to my computer. Calling myself an idiot I
clicked on the message icon. My vibrator had also been given time
off but I pulled it out then. Clicking through the messages, the
pictures, I once again found moisture pooling at my core. After so
long ignored, my body went into overdrive and I’d been almost
frantic for my orgasm. It had been so strong I couldn’t hold back
the scream from it and it had been several long minutes before I
could even move. When I could, I looked down to see the vibrator
still inside me, half out of me and visibly coated with my juices.
I took a picture then. The first one was perfect and I had posted
it with my thanks.

From there I didn’t look back or hesitate.
Always careful to keep my face out of the pictures, I began to post
almost weekly. Usually, on the weekend, as I lay in bed before I
started my day. Sometimes, as I ran errands or went about my day on
the weekend, I’d take a picture in a restroom of a restaurant or
store. Slowly, I also began to change other things. Instead of the
serviceable bras and panties, bought more for comfort than
pleasure, I began shopping for matching sets, silky and sexy. Then
came other lingerie I had never even considered before. Some sheer
and others lacy, baby dolls and teddies, and the most sinfully sexy
of all, a garter belt and different types of stockings. The cost
had caused me to bite my lip as they were rung up. Yet, as I wore
them below my boring librarian like work clothes and even more
boring jeans and plain tee shirt weekend clothes, they felt worth
every penny.

It’s him, right at the top there are two
messages from him. Once again, I curse my stupidity for my
throwaway handle, AbbyinAustin. His name is Jack Morgan, he’s here
in Austin and it sounded as if he was even nearby in south Austin.
For the last three months we’ve been exchanging messages. Almost
immediately, his messages caught my attention and I was turned on
by him. His messages were just right for me, as far as I was
concerned. Appreciative and just a little dirty, he was also funny
and sarcastic, which I liked.

He told me he’d made an album of my pictures
and stroked his cock to them nearly every day since he found me
three months ago. Then he heightened the appeal. He started writing
me scenes of what he would do to me once we met and they made me
wet and wanting. What he wrote wasn’t crude or raunchy, it was
deeply sensual and evocative. Then he could be naughty and playful
and he would use just the right amount of dirty words. Even though
I knew I shouldn’t, I began responding to him, just as naughty and
dirty as he was.

Slowly, we chatted about things other than
sex, things like movies, books, television, what was happening in
the news or on the website. It felt so different with him and I was
just as eager to hear his complaints about traffic, as his
compliments of the picture I’d taken of my breasts. I knew he felt
the same because he’s been angling for my number and a meeting for
the last few weeks. I’d put him off again and again but it isn’t
easy because added to all the other things he’s gorgeous.

He hadn’t been shy and had sent several
pictures of himself, his body, his face and especially his dick. He
had olive toned skin that easily tanned, showing he spent a lot of
time out in the sun. His hair was black and clipped short and
seemed to fit his strong chiseled face. A brow thick and heavy was
almost at odds with such a thin classical nose but his cheekbones
were sharp, softened only by his beautifully molded lips. Brown
eyes that were soft and looked as sweet as chocolate made him so
very appealing just to look at, but then when he had sent pictures
of his body I had drooled like a school girl. Jack’s body was
amazing, he was built with a very visible six pack below a
smattering of chest hair, he looked strong, his arms thick with
muscle but just short of overdone. And his dick, dear lord he had
reason to be proud it, he was long and thick, he told me nine
inches. I shuddered at the idea of something so large inside me and
he looked thick around, more than two inches around for sure. As
far as I was concerned it was never going to happen but he made me
want it, I can’t deny that.