A message on a phone screen, written in such a titillating, sensual way, makes me feel sexy, desired and aroused.

To be seduced in this way by messages from a faceless entity who seemingly knows my innermost thoughts, secrets, and fantasies is unbelievable yet true; I am entirely intrigued and fascinated.

Last night, I memorized every last word as I re-read the wonderfully erotic messages, yearning for more.

I closed my eyes and envisaged warm breath on my neck. My skin was damp and flushed from my recent bath, and goosebumps formed, trailing across my warm skin as I imagined where his passionate kisses would be.

My breath quickened as I played with my breasts, stroking them and gently tweaking the now stiff buds of my nipples. My other hand strayed to my silky smooth thighs, which effortlessly part, and I started to play out exactly what those messages described.

My fingers slipped into my slick wetness between the satin pink puffy lips with ease. And I swirled my thumb on and around the hard little nub of my swelling clit. I could feel the start of my pleasure begin to swirl and build, imagining my fingers were his mouth and tongue, gently stroking, probing, teasing and lapping up the juices that were free-flowing now.

I can almost hear his groans of pleasure as my body responds to him entirely, and my lust coats his lips and tongue. His hand clasped my stocking-clad leg, which rests on his shoulder, allowing him to bury his face ever deeper into my drenched pussy, his glorious soft mouth eliciting moans of desire. His stubble adds a delicious roughness as I grind myself against him, wanting more, always wanting more.

I moaned loudly; my orgasm came with force and ravaged me. My body convulsed and quivered, consumed. I had to cover my mouth so no one would hear. I could taste my sweetness and wished he were here to savour and enjoy it.

My body was molten and sticky with sweat; the aftershocks coursed through me thick and fast, deliciously frantic flutters of desire that tingled all over. My legs trembled uncontrollably; I throbbed, my clit so sensitive that the mere brush of a fingertip set me off again, not with force but still no less intense or divine.

My bedsheets were rumpled and damp around me as the beautiful waves of ecstasy washed over me. Sleep seemed impossible, but I drifted off, completely relaxed and peaceful, with thoughts of an as-yet-unknown distant lover who stirred such excitement and passion within me with every erotically charged word he wrote.