It’s early… too early. I am far from being a morning person, so I stay comfortably smothered in the duvet while I skim through the news pages on my phone.
I yawn, thinking about getting up and making a coffee when I see a notification pop up on my emails.
I touch the app, expecting it to be spam or some sort of mailing list… but it’s not. It’s from you.
I feel my heart begin to race with excitement as I open your email…
It started innocently enough, a quick hello and some flattering comments about some of my work that you had enjoyed online. It wasn’t the first comment I’d received, but there was something about the tone of your messages and the bold questions you asked that made me want to continue the conversation.
It didn’t take long for our conversation to become a little more flirty. I was thrilled to imagine you bringing yourself to an orgasm over my writing. For an erotica author, surely that’s the greatest compliment?
I don’t know how to picture you in my head, I know nothing at all about you, you’re a complete stranger… yet you’ve got me glancing at my phone obsessively throughout the day as I wait to hear from you. You could be anyone… maybe you’re not a stranger, but someone I’ve passed on the street…
I know it’s wrong. I’m married, and for all I know you could be married too. I should have just thanked you for your kind words after the first email and left it like that- as I usually do… but for some reason, this felt different. You seemed genuinely interested and I found myself smiling at your words.
Your emails quickly picked up a more dominant tone as you teased information from me, your responses leading me to become more graphic with my answers. I’ve never met you, but over the last few days I’ve found myself telling you things that I’ve never told anyone before… things I’ve probably never admitted to myself before. Deeply intimate and sexual things…
I’m enjoying the risk of being caught, the thrill of knowing your words are leaving me wet and aching for release. When I tell you how much I need to cum, you respond, forbidding it. I cannot cum without your permission…
I’m shocked, no one has ever spoken to me like that before… but I’m surprised how much I like it. Yet the need is strong as I lay in bed, picturing my anonymous lover with me… touching me… teasing me…
I’m desperate for the release, but try as I might it just won’t come. Your earlier email, forbidding me, is sticking in my mind. I sigh and roll over, trying not to disturb my husband sleeping next to me.
At least you’ve given me permission to cum in the morning, once I receive your email detailing your latest naughty thoughts… you seem to have picked up on my fantasies quickly, your emails include little personal touches that make them instantly relatable to me.
This isn’t like reading regular erotica, this is you writing your own stories just for me… they depict me and my lover in daring scenarios… scenarios I like to read over and over as I slide my fingers inside myself, picturing your thick fingers dripping with my wetness…
I feel as though I’m constantly on edge, aroused by the emails you send before I’ve even opened them. I know some of them off by heart… the short messages calling me a ‘naughty girl’ or the ones where you describe your strong hands holding me firm, as you take what you want from me.
I’m becoming more bold and wanton with each message… tailoring my response to please you, always so eager to please you… my stranger… my anonymous lover… I want to hear again how my words have made you cum as you work your thick cock with your hand, massaging in your pre cum that you know I would love to lick from your fingers… though not as much as I’d like to taste your actual cum as your cock hits the back of my throat…
You’re encouraging me to test my own boundaries… to find my limits. How far am I willing to go in my voyage of self discovery? How far am I willing to go just to please you? I want the praise as much as I want the dirty talk…
You tease me with little snippets of information, giving me tasks and commands to earn the right to ask you a question… if I ask too much, you’re no longer an anonymous stranger, but curiosity is starting to get the better of me…
You have flicked a switch within me and I’m not sure I want to turn it off. I never thought I’d be one of those people… going behind their partners back… desperate to hear from another- keeping those illicit messages hidden… a secret just between me and you… yet here I am, waiting for your next reply.