Wednesday, 1 August 2012
But today they had both been quiet. She had been so busy, there had been little time for messages in the midst of work and practicalities. As she walked home along the busy high street she began to unwind and look forward to his evening call, to hearing his beautiful voice in which she could always lose herself.
In her handbag she heard the familiar buzz, letting her know she had received a text. Like the sexual equivalent of Pavlov's dogs her body reacted with anticipation at the pleasure so often indicated by that simple sound. She reached into her bag and, pulling out her phone, her body reacted immediately and she stopped dead in her tracks. Someone bumped into her and she may have managed a mumbled apology, but the picture on her phone had her attention.
His beautiful cock; close up, naked and hard! It was all she could do to resist licking her phone there and then. Realising she was causing something of a human traffic jam she moved to one side of the pavement to savour the picture. She knew every inch of him, she could taste him, feel the texture of him in her mouth. Her entire body ached to feel him against her. The intimacy of touch, the one thing all their words could never replicate. As she stared at her phone her lips unconsciously parted as her mind experienced the memory of slipping them over the head, that smooth delicate skin pushing onto her tongue as she flicked around him, tasting him... her hands relaxed as she imagined stroking his balls and pressing her face hard down against him taking his full length into her...
She was so lost in her reverie that the next text made her jump.
'I want a picture of you, NOW!'
She felt herself blush and smile. Could she? Might she? She lifted her head finally and looked around her at the people rushing home from work. The contrast of her exposure and this intimate moment amused her. She crossed the street to some coffee chain, inside she ordered a drink then went to find the toilets. Inside the cubicle she slipped off her knickers and placed them into her handbag. Then she took out her 'phone again. How the fuck to do it? The only real light was from a roof window but the cubicle was dark. She walked out of the cubicle. Much better. Placing down her bag and lifting her skirt she raised her right leg and balanced herself against the basins. She reached down into her soaking wetness and pressed two fingers inside herself, gasping as she realised how aroused she was to the slightest touch. She drew her fingers out and stroked her juices across her lips, circling, gently pressing her clitoris and again dipping inside to the moist warmth she wanted him to fill. For a moment she forgot her situation as her eyes closed, her head rolled back and her hips began to rotate.
A noise outside the door made her jump! She quickly lowered her leg and made as though to wash her hands but no-one came through the door. She focused herself. A picture! Raising her leg again she pressed her lips apart with her fingers spreading herself wide and, lowering her phone, she took the shot of her glistening, swollen cunt. Attach to text. Send.
She smiled, lowered her leg, placed her phone in her bag and licked her fingers, tasting her sex and again, lost in the scent of arousal, paused a moment, eyes closed, every inch of her body enraptured in thoughts of him.
The door opened and two young, noisy girls walked in and began messing with their make-up. The woman moved to the basin to wash her hands, picked up her bag and walked out to drink her coffee.
Her phone buzzed. She looked at her bag, hardly able to contain what would happen if he had sent her another picture. She reached out her phone and, reading the text, she felt herself melt. It said simply:
"I'd like to make more together .. X"