Morning Call

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↪️ Good morning baby…

↩️ Hey you! How are you?

↪️ Thinking of you…

↩️ Yeah? Me too. Can’t stop thinking about you. I think of you inside me all the time.

↪️ I want to be inside you, filling you, stretching you. I want to come with you. Inside you.

↩️ Fuck! I want you. I’m thinking of you watching what I’m doing right now…

↪️ Oh fuck baby! Tell me!

↩️ My hand between my legs.

↪️ Where I want to be.

↩️ So wet! Rubbing myself, thinking of you.

↪️ Yes! Stoke your clit for me baby. Run your fingers over your lips, dip inside, feel how wet you are. Back to your clit, swirling your fingers around it. Strumming and teasing as your hips squirm against the bed. While I watch you, my cock rock hard with wanting you.

↩️ Watching you watch me…

↪️ Spread your legs baby, wider. Let me see you.

↩️ Wide open for you.

My fingers are slick, slipping over my folds and stroking my hard little clit as I wait for your words to appear on the screen. I am sitting propped up against the headboard, wearing the shirt you sent me, draped open over my shoulders. I smell your scent on it and feel your presence with me as I imagine you sitting at the end of the bed watching me play. Heat rushes to my cheeks.

↪️ Yes, you watching as I press my tongue over your clit, sucking at your lips. Looking up at you as I explore your cunt, exposing your vulva with my fingers, then curling my tongue up, searching out the soft ridges of your g spot. I’m hungry for you. I want to drink you in, every drop.

My fingers work faster. I forget about typing back to you. Instead I pinch my nipple and picture your teeth biting it as you fuck me with your hand. Feeling the rush inside me, I writhe on the sheet, opening my eyes to see if you are still typing.

Nothing.

Then…

↪️ Each keystroke is another tap of my fingertip against the smooth velvet of your clit. Your cunt aches for me baby.

↪️ Your sweet, wet, tight cunt pulling me into you, stretched around the base of my cock. Your thighs spread wide as I fuck you hard.

↪️ I think of you nearing your climax, calling out my name as the fire of your orgasm sweeps from between your legs through your veins. Are you coming baby? Come for me…

I feel the build up of my orgasm becoming stronger and stronger. My hand speeds even more, my fingers twisting my nipple.

Heat floods through me as I come, my breath ragged, your face in my mind. I slow my hand enjoying the sweet aftershocks that tingle through my clit.

Opening my eyes I see you’ve stopped typing.

I raise my hand to the camera and take a photo of my soaking wet fingers, smiling to myself.

↩️ Thank you baby. That was amazing. I’m sorry I stopped typing…

I send through the photographic evidence of my pleasure and wait.

↪️ Mmmmmm I want to lick every drop from your fingers. I’m achingly hard for you.

↩️ Touch yourself…

↪️ Baby, the time difference? I’m at my desk! Thank fuck it hides my erection! Straining against my trousers. I wish you could sit on me, slam that beautiful cunt down onto me. Use my cock for your pleasure.

↩️ Yes! Grinding down against you… 

↪️ Stop! Stop! I can’t…

A wicked grin spreads across my face as I imagine you squirming in your chair, trying not to come in your pants. I decide to be sweet.

↩️ Ok darling. I’ll stop… comeback to me when you get home. I’ll take care of you then. 

↪️ I love you baby x

 ↩️ ILY2 x

I close the laptop and snuggle down into my sheets, snatching a few more minutes before I need to get up and shower and start my day. Smiling at the thought of you miles away thinking of me.

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Fury

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A special thrill writing this after the divine Ms. Rebel asked to use my SinfulSunday photos a prompt!

Thanks Rebel! See who else is writing here.


She was done crying. The shock and hurt had left her, replaced by raw, seething fury. The tears that blurred her eyes now were fuelled by rage.

She looked around the room that they had shared for 25 years of marriage. The bed that they had made love in, conceived two children in, woken up next to each other in.

She remembered meeting him in university, his clean-shaven young face and gangly body, so different to the fuller, more muscular, bearded man he was today. She had watched him grow from an awkward shy teen into a confident professional with the ability to seduce a roomful of people with his charisma and charm alone.

She had loved witnessing every milestone in his life.

She thought of his face when she pushed their daughter into the world; the pride, the love, the awe with which he looked at her and the new addition to his life. The fierce, protective energy that radiated from him as he held his little girl in his arms. His lips pressed to hers as tears flowed down his face mingling with her sweat.

She remembered him holding her as she lay broken and bleeding on the bathroom floor, their second child seeping out from her body too early. She had wailed and keened as he rocked her tenderly, swallowing his own pain to bear hers. In the days to follow he patiently allowed her to grieve as she needed to, in silent solitude, until she turned to him ready to share her hurt. They had cried in each other’s arms, watched their sleeping daughter and grown stronger.

She looked at the crumpled covers on their bed, thinking of the love they had made there, the raw, atavistic fucking they had drenched the sheets with. He had been an awkward lover at first, nervous and unsure, but she, having more experience, had coaxed and taught him. She had showed him how to please her and delighted in watching his eyes widen in surprise and wonder at the things she could do to satisfy him. They had grown together.

Her bags were packed and waiting in the hallway. The taxi was due. She had cleared out the joint account. She opened her purse and took out the article that had changed everything when she had discovered it wedged under the drivers seat of his car as she leaned in to retrieve an apple that had fallen from the grocery bag. The shock of it made her mouth water as nausea overwhelmed her. She had slumped on the back seat, the apple forgotten as her fingers stroked the familiar smooth red satin.

Familiar to her, but not from her own collection. She recognized it from the day spent shopping with her sister, her divorced sister, shopping for lingerie in her quest to “get back out there” as she had put it. Remembering how giddy she had been as she bought the burgundy bra, thong and suspender set, giggling about the man she hoped to seduce with them. The man who had been texting her on Kik for weeks. The man she had been exchanging intimate photos with.

The taxi honked its horn, bringing her back to the present.

She placed the bra on the crumpled white sheet. No Dear John letter required. The bra said it all.

One last look, taking in the room, imprinting it forever in her memory, she turned and walked out, closing the door with a final click.

She opened the front door, beckoned the driver to help her with her bags and walked down the drive towards her new life.

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Copyright, 2015,  illicitthoughts.wordpress.com

All rights reserved.