Bad Mistake [Her Sweetest Mistake]

My best friend Ada, lounged beside me on my bed and exclaimed, "Mila, you are exquisitely beautiful." Her eyes were fixed on my phone as she uttered these words.

"You should definitely consider sending Everett that photo of yourself." With a tap on the screen, a provocative selfie of me lying on my bed without a top materialized.

I responded with a playful giggle, opting not to share that particular photo. "No, that one doesn't showcase my features. How about this one instead?" I selected another image of myself positioned against a wall, clad in black lacy lingerie, with my legs spread apart. In the photo, I held a small silver vibrator against my undergarments, my tongue poking out and my eyes closed.

Ada suggested nonchalantly, "Why not send both?"

I raised an eyebrow in response.

"What? It wouldn't hurt to provide him with more options to peruse, if you catch my drift," she added, making a suggestive pelvic motion with her hand.

I stared at the pictures, contemplating Ada's proposal. She did make a valid point. To be honest, simply gazing at them had already aroused me. I could only imagine what his reaction would be. I knew he would immediately desire me and I craved that.

I scrolled to Everett's contact on my phone and sent him the two photos with the caption: Wish you were here with me. ;)

As I set my phone aside, Ada beamed. "When will you see him next? Perhaps you two can finally have sex!"

I rolled onto my stomach and kicked my feet into the air. "He and his father are supposed to come over for dinner tomorrow night."

The alliance between my father and Everett's father, Mr. Williams, at CloseNet Engineering, spanned fifteen years since its inception. Our families shared weekly dinner gatherings, embarked on vacations together, and even celebrated holidays as one.

"Lately, Everett has been a tease," I murmured, reminiscing on the multitude of lewd texts he had sent me. I couldn't help but squeeze my knees together.

During high school, Everett and I would flirt back and forth, but nothing more. He was known as the bad boy, a player, the epitome of every girl's fantasy. We never had the opportunity to act on our mutual attraction, partly due to my own resistance. Whenever he made advances, I relished the idea of turning him away.

The thought of him out on dates with all those attractive women, opening up one of my provocative messages or pictures, made me wet. Imagining him placing his phone on the table, his hand pressing against his growing arousal, trying to calm himself down, before eventually excusing himself to take care of the issue in the bathroom.

Damn, I had indulged in that fantasy one too many times. I was tempted to give in and let him have me.

Before Ada left for the day, she made me promise to text her as soon as Everett replied. But every time I checked my phone, there were no messages from him.

By four p.m., I couldn't stop bouncing my knee, my teeth tugging at my lip, my heart racing. He always responded within minutes.

Maybe he was no longer interested in playing this game. Perhaps sending two pictures was too much. I didn't know, but I needed to find out. What if there was something wrong?

My phone buzzed, and I jumped up, eagerly opening the message.

Everett Williams: Mila, I don't believe this is appropriate.

My heart plummeted. How could he find it inappropriate? We had been exchanging messages like this for nearly two months, and all of a sudden, he had a change of heart. Where was his usual sassy comeback?

Me: What do you mean? You didn't like the pictures?

He responded within seconds.

Everett Williams: Oh no, I love them. I'm aroused just by looking at them. If possible, I would invite you to my bed.

Me: So, what's the issue, Everett? Come over. My dad is at work.

Everett Williams: Double check the person you are messaging.

I stared at the name on the screen, my eyes widening in shock. "Oh no, how could I be so foolish?" My cheeks flushed with embarrassment. I read the name repeatedly, struggling to believe that I had just sent my explicit photos to Everett's father.

Me: OMG, I am deeply sorry, Mr. Williams. I intended to send those to someone else. Please do not inform my dad about this! I am mortified.

I pulled the covers over my head, trying to hide from the overwhelming embarrassment. My cheeks felt like they were on fire; my heart racing even faster than before.

Mr. Williams: Don't be ashamed, Mila. You are exceptionally alluring.

I widened my eyes at his response, my heart racing with desire for a brief moment. Mr. Williams was almost as old as my father, but his attractiveness had always been undeniable. Ada and I had a huge crush on him during high school.

I took a deep breath and chose to keep my reply muted.

Me: Thank you.

He did not respond, and I was left wondering what he was thinking. I just prayed that he wouldn't tell my dad about the photos.

And to be sure, I avoided my dad when he returned from work. I didn't come out for dinner, bid him good night, or even respond to anyone's messages, including Everett's.

Early the next morning, he knocked on my door and entered my room. The sunlight flooded in through the window. "Mila, do you have anything you want to tell me?"

My eyes widened, and I sat up in bed. "Um, no. Why?" I asked, gripping the sheets in my sweaty palms.

He shrugged. "You usually come down and eat dinner with us. Are you feeling unwell?"

I smiled at my dad, feeling relieved. "Oh, I just wasn't feeling great," I lied.

"Well, hopefully, you're feeling better by tonight. Everett and his father are coming over for dinner," he said. Then, he kissed my head and left for work.