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Wine Tasting

He shut the door behind him softly, turning his face to the dim living room.   He squinted, the flickering candlelight brushing soft lines of silhouette near the window at the end of the room.

“Come in and put your things on the table.”  Her silky voice surprised him, and he reflexively gripped the small bag in his hand.  He did as he was told, hand flexing again when her voice sounded.

“Remove your clothing.”  He breathed deep as he reached for his t-shirt.  He was momentarily disappointed she would not see the funny saying on the front of the shirt.  He had worn it thinking it would make her laugh and was looking forward to her response.

His feet worked his sneakers off, the jeans and underwear followed and he put them on the chair before bending and peeling off his socks.  He stood again, the slightly cool air of the room kissed his skin with goosebumps.

He looked again at the shadow of his Mistress, flanks tensed as he waited for her next command.  He didn’t have to wait long.

“Open the wine and pour us each a glass  Then bring them here.”

He quickly complied, smelling the fruity scent of the red wine as he poured a liberal amount into the glasses waiting there.  He picked the glasses up and walked over to her.  As he approached he could see the outline of her legs.  Her curvy, strong legs were covered with black thigh-high stockings.  On her feet were a pair of black pumps.  He nearly groaned as his eyes traveled from her thigh to her toes and back.  He dared not peek further up.

“Kneel.”  One syllable and he was on his knees in front of her, naked and bearing her wine.  His cock was already beginning to swell.

He held up a glass of wine and waited.  She reached forward, her long fingers wrapping around the stem of the glass.  He could imagine those fingers wrapping around him.  The thought made a groan form in his chest.  His teeth bore down on his bottom lip to keep the sound from escaping.

She took a drink of the wine, her red lips parting as her tongue licked the traces off her mouth.  His cock thickened further.

“Would you like to taste your wine?” She asked him, gesturing to the other glass still in his hand.

“Yes, Ma’am, I would.”  He replied.

“You may do so after you take care of that hard cock.”  She uncrossed her legs, leaning forward and holding up a small bottle of lubricant.  She ran a finger along his shaft before gripping him so firmly the wine glass in his hand shook.

“This is unacceptably hard.”  Long fingers ran the length of him, grasping his thickness and squeezing until the head shimmered with precum.  He gasped.

“Yes Ma’am.”  He looked for a table to set the wine glass.  Mistress shook her head.

“No, my Pet, you misunderstand.  You must hold the wine while you stroke your cock for me.”  She smiled at him and took another drink.  “You will not spill a drop.  If you do, I will plug your ass.”

He winced. His ass was still in training and he was fairly sure she would not use the training plugs if she followed through on her threat.

“Yes Ma’am.”

He did not have to work to make it hard.  His cock was throbbing already, begging for touch.  He opened his palm and Mistress poured some lube on it. He spread the lube down over his head and shuddered at his own touch.  He was so swollen with arousal he did not think it would be long before his offering was ready for her.

He worked his hand up and down his shaft slowly, squeezing his fingers over the head of his cock.  His breathing quickened, and a small gasp escaped him as he caressed his head again.

“Look up at me,” She commanded.  He obeyed, raising his eyes to hers.  He could feel his heartbeat racing, his hand working his shaft faster as he allowed his mind to envision her receiving him.  He momentarily closed his eyes as pleasure began to overtake him.

He was not aware of her movement until her fingers caressed his cheek as they traveled to his jaw. She pulled his face to the side abruptly.  “Open your eyes!”  They flew open in surprise.  Her mouth was so close he could have leaned forward and kissed her.  But he did not dare.  His hand continued its increasingly frantic pace on his cock.  It would not be long now.

“Please Mistress,” he gasped, cords in his neck straining as he held back his orgasm.  “May I cum please?”

“Not yet.”  She smiled and moved to his other side, one hand caressing a trail from his shoulder to his nipple.  She grasped it tightly.  He fought back the orgasm, thinking about accounting, baseball, dishwasher repair.  Anything to keep from cumming before his Mistress allowed it.

“Please!” He was beginning to feel a burning sensation in his balls and knew he could not hold back much longer.

“You may cum,” She breathed softly, her mouth caressing his ear.  “In your glass.”

His brain barely registered her words in time, he thrust the glass down to his crotch, as desperate not to spill it as he was to cum.  He groaned loudly as his thick, creamy fluid squirted into the glass.  He stroked the last drops out, shuddering and nearly laughing in disbelief – he had not spilled a drop.

His Mistress was still kneeling behind him, her hands on his skin and her sweet mouth trailing kisses down his neck.

“Very well done,” She said, kissing his neck and allowing him to feel her teeth sinking into his skin.  He felt the burning pleasure of his nipple being twisted in her fingers.  She stood abruptly, the sudden lack of touch making him miss her proximity already.

She returned to her chair and crossed her legs again.  Her wine glass was once again wrapped in her fingers.

“Salute,”  She said, holding up her glass.  He mimicked her gesture and ignored the disbelief he felt at what he was about to do.

“Salute” he echoed back as he tipped the glass and drank it down.

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Son and Consort

A crisp lavender expanse of down and fluff.

Warmed by body heat and scented like my skin.

A 54×75 sanctuary where my two worlds dream.

Side by side in unwitting repose.

They will never meet here,

Merely know the feel of resting here with me.

I bear lone witness to this strange changing of the guard.

I am the treasure they share.

They each claim a place in my lilac-colored world.

The warm void between sheets the tender turf,

Where my intimacy runs free with Son and Consort.

I am the constant.

I am the Mother-Mistress.

I am the gravity that draws them here.

I am their common ground.

***

You climb into my bed in the wee hours of the morning.

Your warmth seeps into me as you snuggle close.

I can feel a sense of safety fill you as you settle in next to me.

I can feel the pull of my love,

like the gravity of the sun holding my universe together.

I stroke your hair and watch as you breathe deeper, relaxing into my touch.

Remembering many nights together.

The texture of your hair is coarser now.

Not the baby fine silk you had when you were three.

But the feel of it transports me back in time.

To every moment I rocked you to sleep in my arms or held you close to me.

You are my reason, my sanity, my tether to this world.

You are the reason I fight, I strive, I grow.

You are my heart and soul, the definition of my love.

You are my son.

***

I leave the door unlocked for you and climb between scented sheets.

My body tingling, anticipating your touch.

I try to sleep, knowing you are on your way to me.

But I think of your caress and abandon thoughts of rest.

My hands roam my body too hungry to wait for you.

I lose myself in the sea of my own desire.

You open the door and find me in passion’s throes.

A wolfish smile upon your face as your hand replaces mine.

I am shocked back to reality by your kiss.

And delivered to passion once again.

You are the one who stokes my fires, who drives me beyond my brink.

You are my balance, my motivation, my laughter, my release.

You are the visitor that drinks from the wellspring of my heart.

You are my lover.

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Right Bicep

It was the curve that caught my eye, drew me in.

That sloping curve from your shoulder to your elbow.

An erotic arc of skin and muscle.

It’s embarrassing to admit.  Like my fetish for a conference room table.   But…

The curve of your right bicep ignited something in me.

I could barely take my eyes off it.

I wanted to lick it.  I wanted to run my tongue along the line I saw.  I wanted to sink my teeth into your skin.

I wanted to taste the salt of you there, grip its left counterpart in my hand as passion reared.

I wanted to feel those muscles bunched up and tensed around me as you lifted my hips and drove yourself into me.

Wanted to feel them wrapped around my ass and holding me steady as I ground my pussy against your mouth.

The sweep of that line, from the cap of your shoulder in a graceful angle down to your bicep.

I wanted to taste it a dozen times that night.

I very nearly did.

Just as I very nearly got myself off in ladies room after the first game.

I laughed as I fingered my clit in the ladies room stall, feeling it swell, wondering how you would react if I sent you a picture of what I was doing at that moment.

I contemplated coating my fingers in my juicy goodness and offering you a taste when I got back to the table. Or would I just tease you with my scent and lick my own fingers clean?

I wondered if it would have the same effect on your concentration as the effect a wicked line of sinew was having on mine.

I am lucky that I didn’t pierce an innocent passerby as my wandering mind played havoc with my dart’s trajectory.

I am lucky I still managed to win two out of three and keep my bragging rights.

I am lucky I got to take you home and let my tongue re-enact the sensuously filthy things I was thinking about at the pub.

I am amazed at how completely you managed to wreck me.

With the curve of your right bicep.

 

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Chasing Mischief

Religious people say that messages from God are everywhere; they can pop up at any time in any place.  Once you have opened your heart and mind to the messages, they suddenly appear, like a 3D image in a picture – one moment you see only dots, the next an entire portrait is clear as day.

The same thing holds true of Mischief.  Once you know what you are looking for, Mischief springs from virtually every corner of the landscape around you.

Take, for example, a call from a telemarketer.  At first blush, such a call is little more than a nuisance.  Yet when you are on the hunt for Mischief, this ubiquitous event transforms from nuisance into opportunity.

It snowed here Frida and I stayed home from work unwilling to make the treacherous drive.  As I sat with my morning coffee and contemplation I realized that it was a perfect day to enjoy an orgasm.  Not just any orgasm, but a Friday-During-Business-Hours orgasm.  A personal favorite.  While in the middle of this mini-celebration, I was interrupted by my telephone ringing.

Normally, I do not answer phones during moments of sensual distraction.  But today, I was on the look-out for Mischief.  And more than once in my dubious past, Mischief has begun with a ringing phone.  So naturally I answered, sounding a little breathless, my voice more husky than normal.

“Good Afternoon, Ma’am,” a friendly male voice intoned.

In the background I could hear the familiar buzz of a call center, complete with fingers clacking over keyboards.  I turned off my vibrator, resting it’s warm, wet tip against my thigh as I focused on the man’s voice.  It was deep with a velvety edge that I suspected could turn into a growl given the right inspiration.

“My name is Jason and  I’m calling from Comcast Cable to share some exciting news about recent upgrades to our Xfinity service.”

“Really?” I said, a smile spreading across my lips as I pictured Jason’s hard cock, idly guessing his girth while tracing my nipples.   “I’d love to hear about your service, Jason.”  My voice purred a bit and my smile widened.

There was a moment’s pause, “Okay!”  Jason said cheerfully, clearly having decided he misunderstood the intent behind my words.  “Well as you may know Comcast has spent over one million dollars upgrading their infrastructure in order to bring you, our valued customer, a more reliable Comcast experience.”

“What did you do?” I interrupted, my voice taking on a breathy quality as I plucked my nipples harder.

Another pause as Jason listened for a moment.  I took advantage and gasped lightly as I twisted my left nipple.  “We, uh, built a new tower.”  I could hear the smile in his voice.

“You did?” I asked, my breath catching in my throat as I raked my nails up my inner thighs.  “How big?”

My breathing was now growing erratic and I made no secret of that fact.  Jason lowered his voice a pitch and I envisioned him leaning in toward his computer screen, cupping his headset closer to his ear.  “How big what?”  He asked me dumbly.

I laughed, the sound a rich, velvet chuckle from the back of my throat.  “How big is your tower, Jason?”  I flicked my fingers across my clit as I asked the question, my voice trembled.  The sound of his surprised, gasp filled my ears, followed quickly by a laugh of his own.  Then I heard it:  that gravelly edge.  My pussy spasmed uncontrollably and within seconds I had my vibrator in hand.

“It’s a pretty good-sized tower.” Jason replied a tinge of flirtation in his tone.

“Will it help me stream my porn faster?” I clicked to the second speed.

“Ummm…yeah.” Jason laughed nervously, the sound cutting off as I held the vibrator near the mouthpiece of the phone.  I slid the vibrator into my mouth, licking the tip and sucking gently, making sure he heard every sound.

There was dead silence on the other end of the line.

“Jason,” I said, moistening the vibrator as I spoke.  “Do you know what I’m doing right now?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied, his voice dropping lower still, “I believe I do.”

“Good.” I answered softly as I felt the wetness dribbling down over my ass.  “Do you want to hear me fuck myself until I cum, Jason?”

“In the worst way, ma’am.”  Jason answered raggedly and I suddenly wished like hell I could see the excitement of this unexpected moment blooming in his eyes.

That was all the encouragement I needed.  I clicked it up to the third speed and plunged the vibrator into my soaked slit in one smooth stroke, gasping and arching my back as the buzzing toy sank hilt-deep inside me.

“Oh my god…” Jason’s voice was lost as the phone fell onto the bed beside me.  I grabbed the hilt of the vibrator, pulling back and plunging deep again. My fingers ran furious circles over my clit and I could feel the explosion building inside me with alarming speed.  I thrust harder, crying out so my friendly Comcast telemarketer would not be left out of the fun.

“You hear how wet that pussy is, Jason?” I thrust deep again, pulling out and thrusting hard, “Do you like it when I fuck my pussy hard for you?”  His muffled reply spurred me on and I gave myself over with abandon; thrusting hard and deep, bringing myself to the edge of crescendo.  I could not hold it back – this orgasm had been building since before my phone rang and there was simply no stopping this beast now.

“I’m going to cum for you baby, are you ready for this?”  My words barely out of my mouth and the first waves grabbed my body, arching me up and shaking me violently.  I cried out as the liquid shot across my sheets.  I shuddered and struggled for breath, the inevitable laughter immediately following.   I clicked off the vibrator and removed it with a sucking tug.  I grabbed up the receiver again, my hand shaking.

“So, Jason,” I panted casually into the receiver, lapping my juices noisily off my toy, “Is that you wanted to do? Tell me about your million dollar tower?”

There was a long pause.  “Yes, ma’am.”  I heard his fingers clicking on the keyboard.  He didn’t speak, just typed.  I waited patiently, setting my cleaned toy down on the bed.

“Ma’am, I want to personally thank you for being such an excellent Comcast customer.  I’ve just credited your account for six months of free Xfinity internet service.   Thank you for your time and you have an excellent rest of your day.”  Jason’s voice was smiling again.

“Gosh, Jason,” I said, momentarily caught off guard.  “Thanks.”

“No,” his deep voice took on that hard steel edge and my pussy began moistening again.  “Thank you.

Six months free internet and an orgasm? Not a bad day’s Mischief if you ask me.

😉

 

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Morning Coffee and Thoughts About Sex

He was supposed to visit today but had to cancel due to weather.  I was primed and ready, my body tingling with a hunger that needed – that still needs – to be filled.  I had been looking forward to seeing him all week.  Looking forward to what was sure to be that blissful pinnacle, the moment when I would finally feel his thick cock stretching me, driving into my body.  Damn.

I poured my morning coffee, the early morning air cold against my bare legs, and wondered how I could possibly fill the ache within me.  I certainly had options, but they all lacked the one thing I was really craving: human touch.  I could run my hands all over my own body, I could pleasure myself 15 different ways.  But there was nothing that could reenact the bliss of a another person’s hands on my body.  Fuck.

Sure I could whip out the medicine ball, slide Bessie (my favorite pink g-spot vibe) into my slick, tight body.  I could roll my hips, bounce a bit, each rise and fall driving Bessie deep up inside me.  It wouldn’t take long like that.  A bit of that action and I’d be cumming hard in a matter of minutes.  Sometimes, I like to draw it out a bit, laying Bessie on her side, bent tip up and nestled against my clit.  I rub and roll, grinding my hips in a figure eight while I play with ample tits.  The ball allows me a wider range of motion, rolling forward and back, feeling that vibrating nub from clit to ass and back again.  Nothing to complain about there…

But it wouldn’t be strong male hands on my body.  It wouldn’t be a warm, throbbing cock inside me.  Yes, the end result is the same.  But one is intimate, passionate, connected. The other is just me, doing filthy things to a piece of exercise equipment.

I sipped my coffee, deep in thought.  As the morning light brightened the white landscape outside my window, the light of inspiration slowly awakened inside me.

CJ, I said to myself, you have a hell of an opportunity here.  A perfect excuse.  A day to yourself.  No distractions, no obligations, no reason to leave your apartment.  Everything you need is here, music, food, fresh batteries, the laptop, coffee and a mischievous intent.  What more do you really need on a snowy Friday?

So my salacious friends, stay tuned.  I will report back after my day of mischief is complete…

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Sexy Mood

I went to bed last night and before my foot even crossed the doorway to my bedroom, the first sexy thought hit me.  Really it was more of an urge.  An urge to touch.  An urge that, lately, has been uncomfortably absent from my life.

I knew within an instant I would fulfill it.  Fresh batteries were obtained, the kind that make Bessie (yes, that’s her name) really vibrate hard.  The kind I like to place upon a pillow and mount myself on.

Oh yes, I mounted.

I grabbed a towel, threw it around the rolled up pillow and skillfully whipped my breasts out from my t-shirt while still leaving the shirt on.  I just hugged the pillow with my thighs at first, fingers rolling across my nipples as I conjured up the image of male flesh beneath me.  I didn’t bother with a face, my mental image was focused further south.   Focused on the texture of the towel against my thighs, the lips of my pussy, my clit.

My fingers continued to play with my nipples, I began to work my hips back and forth as the strokes turned to pinches, then abrupt slaps across my nipple.  My hunger grew exponentially.

Bessie was turned on with a flick, skipping directly to the second speed.  I saved the third, because I knew when I would really need it and I didn’t want to ruin the orgasm I could already feel swelling up like the sea inside me.  I reached down, pulling my full lips apart to nestle Bessie in with a whoosh of breath against my clit.  I slid my fingers into my mouth, tasting myself and coating my fingers with saliva.  I rubbed my clit, causing the moisture to spread, desire to build, I pressed myself down hard into Bessie and gave a few short thrusts.  You like that? I asked the faceless man in my head.  How does that pussy feel baby? Does it feel good to have your cock inside me?”

I got progressively more filthy as my excitement grew, I leaned down over Bessie, really grinding myself into her.  Finally I yielded to the moist cries of my body and eased myself down slowly over Bessie. I impaled myself on her pink hardness, moaning as each delicious inch slid into me.

Now the thrusts of my hips served to drive Bessie deeper into me. I pushed her out with each rise so I could feel the thrill of being filled with my imaginary lover’s cock; his face watching my pleasure, mouth against my breast.  I don’t know any details about his face and it didn’t really matter.  He was a rock-hard, faceless fuck toy anyway.  My fuck toy.

My thrusts went from long and smooth to hard and quick, abrupt, grasping fistfuls of blanket and at one point pressing my fists down into the mattress on either side of the pillow; effectively thrusting it up into my hungry body. I slid a finger behind me and teased my ass as I thrust.  I felt the animal unleash and I came with a shudder than ran from head to toe.  My body rigid, stock still as the sensations totally overwhelmed me.  I gasped, I cried out, and was grateful for my towel.  I like that sheet set.

I lay back with a laugh, enjoying the tingles.  I switched Bessie off, delightfully recoiling from the orgasm, already knowing I would soon go another round…

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The Hazards of Phone Sex

Oh brother.  You are not going to believe what CJ has done now.

Okay so I don’t know if you are aware of this, but our sweet little CJ has a kink for phone sex.  Personally, I think she likes it because phone sex doesn’t require time primping in front of the mirror.   I think we can all agree that CJ is an impatient little whore when she wants some.

So she meets an interesting prospect and a phone call ensues.  Good conversation, broad range of topics, laughter and a good vibe.  As the hours pass (yes, this was one of those kind of phone calls) the conversation turns frisky.  Pretty soon, CJ is panting like a slut into the phone while this guy hits all of her buttons.  He tells her what he will do to her.  How he will push her down over a table and plunge his fingers into her cunt any time just because he wants to.  He tells her how he will spread her thighs wide so he can shove his finger in her ass while he fucks her hard.

Needless to say, CJ enjoyed the conversation very much.  When the command came to go fetch a toy and shove it in her ass, she complied eagerly.  In order to perform the next series of requests her gentleman caller made, it required CJ to push the limits of her flexibility.   Not having done any stretches in order to prepare for this rather athletic sexcapade, CJ had a monstrous orgasm followed in quick succession by two more as her caller commanded he give him three orgasms.

By 340 am when the call ended, both were satied and very sleepy.  When CJ woke the next morning she noticed some slight stiffness in her low back.   As the morning progressed the pain worsened to the point she could not get out of bed.  One weekend, a trip to urgent care, an ambulance ride to the emergency room, and several shots of strong medicines, CJ is now at home resting.

When asked by the doctor if there was any inciting incident to precede the muscle strain/sprain that was causing muscle spasms and excruciating pain upon movement, CJ contemplated telling them about the phone call.  Instead she reported having carried a 25 pound box of firelogs up three  flights of stairs Friday evening.

Sure CJ, sure it was a box of firelogs.  You know the truth as well as I do, you strained your back fucking yourself like a whore and loving every second of it.  Admit it, you did this, literally, to yourself.

I know.  I was there.

So there you have it readers.  CJ is out of commission until further notice.

I’ll be your entertainment in the meantime.

xxx,

Pussy

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Press Play

You glance over your shoulder as you click play.  Your earbuds nestled in your ears, the quiet dark of your living room surrounding you.  She’s asleep upstairs.  She turned in hours ago, but your guilty conscience keeps you glancing back at the staircase, ever vigilant even though she wouldn’t be able to see the screen from her vantage point.

You exhale softly as the recording begins, not even realizing you were holding your breath in the first place.  You laugh quietly at yourself.  Your palms are slightly clammy and your breathing is quick and shallow.  You feel like a teenager sneaking a peek in your dad’s Hustler magazines.  You feel naughty, excited, guilty, horny.  And you love every second of it.

Your jaw falls open when you hear my voice.  It is deep, sultry, my words breathless because I had been teasing myself for over 20 minutes before I started recording.  I tell you that I am pinching my nipples into stiff little peaks and you can tell by the tension of my voice the exact moment when my fingers tighten on my hard buds.  As my voice narrates, my hands find their way down my stomach, to the sensitive skin on my inner thighs.  I cut myself off, my words turning to gasps of pleasure as I rake my nails up my thighs.  I am quickly losing my words, but I keep myself together enough to tell you how incredibly wet I am growing.

Then you hear it.

The wet, sticky sound of my sinfully aroused pussy.  As I flick my fingers over my clit and delve into my honeypot, my gasps turn to moans, my words growing dirtier by the second.

You can barely breathe, terrified to miss even a second of the experience.  Without even realizing it, your hand has found your lap, freed your swollen cock, and started stroking it in rhythm with me.  As my fingers tease and plunge, your mouth waters at the thought of my drenched pussy.  There is absolutely no mistaking the sensual deluge when I plunge the vibrator in.  It hums happily, my pussy slurping away with each thrust, my voice growing louder as I beg to be fucked senseless.

You would give anything in that moment to be wedged between my thighs, slamming your cock into me.  But instead you are home in your living room, no longer glancing at the stairs, cock in hand and head back as you mercilessly jerk yourself off to the sound of me getting off hard.

You can hear the orgasm coming.  You hear the strain in my voice, the tenseness of my body, the gasps and moans, the dirty, dirty words that accompany those dirty sounds.  You can barely hold off and as I scream out in pleasure, gushing fluid over my blanket, you fill your palm with cum.

You slump back in your chair and listen to me as I laugh delightedly.  We catch our breath together and the last sound you hear before my sexy voice bids you goodnight, is the tight, sucking sound of my vibrator being pulled from my juicy hole.

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Sexting

I couldn’t help myself.  Once we started down that path, there was no way I could stop.  I looked around the office, eyeing the clock and glancing back at my cell phone.  Your text messages were staring back at me, tiny little characters of sin that my body could not help responding to.  I checked the schedule, at least 30 minutes before the next client was due for his appointment.  I fought with myself for a moment, trying to decide if I had the courage to follow through with the command you had sent me just moments before.

“Go to an empty office and close the door.  Remove your panties and tuck them into your purse.   Run your fingers all around that beautiful pussy until you cum.  Once you have made yourself cum, do it again.  Return to your desk and text me a picture.  Leave your panties in your purse for the remainder of the day.”

Oh shit.  What had I gotten myself into? Even as I stressed, I knew I was going to do it.  I couldn’t have said no to you even if I wanted to.  And I did not want to.  I scooted back my chair and left my cubicle, trying to look casual with my purse slung over my shoulder and a file in my hand.  I went into the senior attorney’s office.  He was out to lunch with a client and I knew from past history that particular client’s lunches took place at the bar and ran long.  I shut the door, my stomach fluttering and my crotch already wet with anticipation.  I sat behind the desk and whipped out my phone.  I rolled my red lace panties down to my ankles and snapped a picture and sent it.  I stuffed my panties in my purse and hiked up my pencil skirt.  The skirt was tight around my hips as I threw a leg over the arm of the desk chair.  I swiveled the chair away from the door as my eager fingers began stroking.  I used my finger to spread my wetness around my slit, sliding over my slippery clit and making myself gasp.  I was amazed at how wet I was.  We had been texting back and forth for a while this morning and my pussy was more than ready for some action.  I teased my clit some more as I greedily stuffed the two middle fingers of my other hand into my pussy.  I tried to go slow, in and out in slow strokes like you told me to.  But it wasn’t long before I was thrusting hard, my palm making slapping noises against my wet clit.  I could feel my arousal running down my ass and I arched up hard, cumming into my own palm as I panted and gasped your name.

Remembering my instructions, I kept stroking and thrusting, adding a finger in my ass for added measure.  The second orgasm was even stronger, my body clenching down on my fingers, cum running out of me and leaving a wet spot on my skirt that I hoped my jacket would cover.

I sat there for a moment, shaking with the aftermath of an incredibly strong orgasm, before reaching for my phone again.  I hastily snapped a picture, taking just enough time to make sure it was in focus.  I know how much you hate blurry photos of my pussy.  I stood up on shaky legs, pulled my skirt back down and reached for a kleenex to wipe the moisture off my hand and phone.  After a detour to the ladies’ room, I went back to my desk and took my phone out again.  The photo was a good one.  My pussy spread wide, white cream running in ribbons from my slit down past my ass.  You were going to love this.  I felt a wicked smile spread across my lips as I hit send.

 Originally published on February 16, 2013 – Copyright 2013 CJ Riordan

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