– Please lick me …
– On the nipples, on the clitoris, on the ass …
– Do you want it a lot?
– A lot!
She groaned, closed her eyes, and leaned back in her chair.
She set the phone aside because the power of the idea of him sucking her nipples disturbed her mind, and her boss stood directly against her, probably preparing to give her another report.
He could almost feel the pain in his pants, because he wanted to lick, kiss and suck her…
They’ve been writing each other for six months.
Active, gentle, perverse writing.
Writing with desire, with soul, with fire.
Writing that screamed.
Exchange of vibrant words with their own vibration, merging and mixing to live a common life, in one frequency, in one direction.
Sad, lonely, unsatisfied hearts, dreaming of the impossible emotions of eternal pleasure. At least they knew the truth, and soberly clung to the moment, here and now, without seeking logic and reason.
The only condition was that they never really meet.
Their communication was on the net. And only there.
Both accepted this condition.
And that was what gave them the feeling of complete freedom, of relaxation, of discovering the truth within them – without shame, frames and clichés.
They promised themselves absolute and unconditional honesty and never considered how the other would accept something. The hypothetical adjustment to the taste and desire of the other was also verbally promised.
And yes, really her boss looked at her, kept her gaze on, and as he was about to hand her the report, he suddenly stopped and said he would engage her with it another time.
She was surprised. Then she became embarrassed. Did he see volcanic-emotional activity raging inside her? The thought of his soft lips, firmly glued to the aura of her breasts, then his tongue, slowly crawling on the nipple, leaving a lustrous pearl trace of his arousal, almost obsessed her.
She grabbed her phone and went to the toilet. There was nowhere else to hide, but she knew he had written to her.
she locked himself in and read:
“My sweet, wild, wet … I want you puffed up in front of me, with loose hair on the bed … I want to be your dirty, dirty, lanky dirty … I want to shove carrots in your pussy and your ass, then I’ll crunch them and you blow me … You will blow me until I empty into your throat and you ll drink everything from me… ”
She touched between her legs… it was so wet… she craved the hard carrots in her holes. Her excitement carried her along her natural paths, and she literally heard the crunching of carrots. Her fingers quickened their movement instinctively, and for a moment the vibrations shook her whole essence – her wet rose trembling sweetly in tune with “crunch-crunch” – so clearly her mind was absorbing and experiencing everything written by him.
After she calmed down her breathing and returned to work, she thought. What’s the idea?! Carrots?! She had never thought of such a thing, not even suggesting that things like the ordinary carrots we eat can carry such cruel agitation.
Anything – even the most common object – can be an instrument of pleasure as it pervades the orbit of a perverse brain. The excitement from which we were mad was that crazy explosion that everyone longs for.
She longed furiously and hotly. The idea that she would never meet him, see him in his clear real outlines, smell him and feel him, further ignite the coals of passion and she thirsted day after day, dreamed of fucking, getting wet at night, masturbating like crazy …
It took her at least 20 minutes to recover and adapt.
But she also knew that when she calmed down and began her business, she would not write to him the same way she did when she was in the magic of excitement.
So she got up and went out onto the terrace.
Her heart was pounding – she was cracking, atypical, feeling her boss’s eyes on her back.
But that didn’t stop her.
she was experiencing this passion now! Now there was what she had been fantasizing about for years!
She leaned back on the terrace, her fingers frantically moving on the phone:
“My dear, I will blow and drink your sperm while you eat this big carrot … I want it big, you know – to stuff it in my pussy and feel how you stretch my anus … it’s so tight, almost virgin, but to you I will allow you to defile it. Because with you I feel so crazy and dirty, I look like a whore who strips and opens her legs to be fucked brutally like never before … you make me be a slut – a feeling unknown to me for years, suppressed and tapped in the head my… but the end – I’m a whore who dreams of perverts … I want you to tie me up and put me in wax … wherever and however you want … “
She paused and looked up. She wrote it all at once. She didn’t know that she wanted to be tied up and dripped with wax on her skin… she had watched this in a movie years ago and found it very interesting, but it couldn’t happen because her intimate life was boring and monotonous enough.
Here, a man – a stranger but a close one – had unlocked something hidden in her, something that inevitably led to other things.
When she calmed down, she felt happy.
For the first time, happy for so long…
And calm. Although this calmness also gave rise to curiosity. On the one hand, she was calm that whatever she shared, even the lowest perverse idea, would never be understood that it was coming from her.
On the other hand, sharing filthy fantasies invariably pushed for a desire for closeness and a real feeling, for a truly throbbing and lively experience of longing, from which you apparently blush but secretly tremble to feel them…
She returned to her workplace with the intention of seriously completing all her tasks by the end of the day.
But she was blazing internally in anticipation of his next letter…
To be continued.
This text was created by Emma Tomova and has copyright. Please respect this 🙂
Photos: Pinterest and the Internet