"Just thinking about you, fuck toy. How wet was your weekend?"
I smiled to myself and hit the reply button, "hmmmm, you were?
Not very, I was lacking inspiration....how about you? Any conquests, did you fuck a sweet girl and think of me? "
Almost immediately he reponded, "Alas, not. This weekend was spent working, big deadline coming up. But I did find myself one handed more than once, a certain buxom lady bending over in my mind. A certain pair of luscious, lickable, suckable nipples on my minds tongue, a certain sex-eyed, short-haired head bobbing between my legs. But, constant work did prevent me from sharing these thoughts though. What are you teasing the poor men of that office with today? What're you wearing?"
I couldn't help responding myself, "I love your dirty mind so much.
Nothing too revealing today, except for the silky skirt without panties...."
I had an idea this response would be to my Master's liking and very quickly, I knew I was right.
"Ohhhhh lord. Silky skirt WITHOUT panties? You know exactly what I like. You know what I always wanted to try? I've always had a thing for older women, powerful women, especially sitting at a desk. I used to have this recurring fantasy when I was younger. Hot, older lady such as yourself, sitting at her desk, making phone calls, wearing a skirt with no panties. I'd be on my knees, under that desk, my hands slowly sliding up her legs, your legs, are you wearing stockings? I bet not. I would run my hands up both legs simultaneously, feeling your calf in my palms, then up your behind that sensitive spot behind your knee. Then, up your thigh, you'd have to sit there, on the phone, or even talking to someone in front of you, without letting it slip at all. Keeping your composure as I parted your legs slowly, just enough as the skirt allows, my fingertips sliding their way between your thighs. I can feel your radiating warmness. You nod at the person you're talking to, an uh-huh here, a sure there, but you are slowly sliding yourself just slightly down, enough to give me more room to work with, letting my fingers slide deeper between your thighs until finally I come across a perfect wetness, warm, slick, my fingers take to it. They slide up and down your engorged pussy lips, lubricated by your juices, up and down, sliding ever so barely inside with each run. Soon your clit hood is on my fingertips. I deftly raise it up and start just barely sliding over it. Just the barest of touch, don't want to spook you in front of your client...yet. I love your reactions too much though, your squirming, you very subtle pelvic gyrations. I love doing that to you, so I rub a little harder at your clit, a little more playfully and then a little faster, ramping up the flicking as my other hand enters a finger into you, then two. Your skirt is practically hiked up to your waist under the desk right now, your eyes may or may not be shut in concentration, but I keep going, faster and harder, deeper, my thumb expertly playing with your clit as three fingers fight to enter your tight, wet, slick pussy. How much longer could you last like this? How much longer can you remain professional? How much longer until the cumslut comes out?"
Oh my, my heart is beating hard now, and so I hit reply again and send him the following email. "She has arrived." THen quickly followed with another message, "I just lifted my skirt my pussy is bare on my seat so my wetness doesn't show through, thank you very much. "
He must be laughing inside himself because the next email had a sense of his playing with me. "You thwarted my plan! But, you also just hiked up your skirt in public and your bare sweet pussy is laying directly on the seat. Well played, well played. :) Send me a picture of your bare wet pussy on that seat, subtly. "
I was busy and didn't have time to respond for awhile and soon I heard the bing of email arriving, I opened it. "Where are you my sweet, I want a picture, do not disobey me or I shall have to torture you."
Uh oh, I thought, I better at least send something in repsonse, "You dole out torture well yourself my sweet master, I will see what I can do." I was thinking about how I was going to acomplish this task, when a cruel thought crossed my mind, I smiled and sent the following message back to my loving Master, "Mmmm...sweet pussy." And I attached a cartoon of a cat sitting on a office chair. Very quickly, I thought better, "Sorry couldn't resist! But, I hope the anticipation is making you hard." The last thing I wanted was to upset my Master.
Based on his repsonse, I think he got the joke. "So you're really gonna make me suffer for it aren't you? You're gonna make me wait to see your sweet, succulent, wet pussy? you're going to make me lay here, shirtless, with my pants down, dreaming of those sweet lips, that warm juice, that little clit that's just calling out for my tongue? This is going to come back to haunt you my dear...this is going to cost you at least an hour of on-the-edge torture, my fingers rubbing against that clit in a perfect rhythm, calculated along with your moans and groans and bucking to send shivers up your body, to sharpen your nipples to their hardest, and leave you begging for an end...maybe I'll go for two hours! Oh yes, my dear, you'll be punished for this...