Playing with myself
I was sitting at my desk, when my mobile phone flashed. 'Message' I clicked it open; it read, "You look HOT today– going somewhere nice?" I scrolled back to see who the sender was – Private number. I looked around the office, to see who he/she was
The phone flashed, again. "So? Got a date?" I turned around again. I catch Pete a young guy who recently join the office with his phone. He raised his eyebrows, nodding at his phone.
Feeling mischievous, I typed a reply, "That's for me to know; and you to find out! Anyway, I'm married."
I was actually meeting my sister after work, and had dressed in white linen trousers and a nice white chiffon blouse, lace bra, with a slinky pair of sandals.
Seconds later he replied, "Lucky fella...hope he's worth it."
Before I could return that message, my boss was calling for me.
I wasabout to describe myslef but you can check my pics and comment them :)...anyway back to the story.
Peter is a little bit younger than I am; about 23, I'm 28. He thinks that he is 'God's gift to women'; six feet tall and dashingly handsome. He's always very well groomed and dresses immaculately. It's widely believed that he's screwed a couple of the young girls in accounts.
When I sat back at my desk, there was another message waiting for me. "Are you wearing any knickers?" I swear that I blushed as I read it. I quickly scanned the room, but he was missing.
I looked down at my linen trousers. Because they were a little bit transparent I was only wearing a very small white thong.
I subtly walked to his desk waving a piece of paper. "Have you seen Pete?" I asked Mike. Without looking up from his screen, he told me, "He's gone out on an appointment."
When I got back to my desk there was yet another message, "Well? Are you?"
I smiled at his cheek. I felt very naughty as I typed, "Yes, very small white ones." My heart was pounding as I pressed 'send'.
The rest of the afternoon dragged by. It seemed like I looked at my phone every two minutes, expecting another text message from Him.
As I got into my car, after the meal with my sister, I felt my phone vibrate. Sure enough, there was a message: "Are they around your ankles yet?"
Giggling, I quickly replied. "Hanging from the mirror!"
"WOW! I wish I was there to watch!" He immediately responded.
I switched my phone off and drove home with a nice smile on my face.
The next morning there was a message, from Him, waiting for me when I turned it back on, "In bed –playing tents - thinking of you."
I blushed like a teenager.
The messages between us carried on in this vein for the few more days. It was quite a thrill receiving and sending sexy texts. He usually commented on my clothing and appeared fascinated with my underwear. Especially after he spotted my pants one day. "I saw your g-string when you bent over." He texted me.
"I don't think so!" I replied.
"Pink with a tiny red rose at the top." Shit! He had seen them.
"Very nice – a present?"
"No - I buy my own underwear." "I bet you have some really SEXY stuff in that drawer."
Each morning he would ask what colour my panties were. I became bolder as the time went on, and would describe my knickers and bra in detail (lacy white bra and matching thong, or black push-up bra with black French knickers). It certainly livened up my day, secretly flirting with my young colleague.
Amazingly, we never mentioned the messages to each other, and continued to work alongside each other as normal.
His messages became more personal and intimate.
"Bald/Porn Star/Furry?"
"Depends!" I replied.
"On what?"
"My mood."
"Today?"
"Furry." I chuckled as I pressed send. I had never told any of my girlfriends some of the things that I was now discussing by text, with my young work colleague.
"Tell me when it's bald!" He immediately replied.
"I will."
One night, when I was alone in my house, He teased me, telling me about his girlfriend and the things that they 'got up to'. She must have been an exhibitionist, because of some of the places that they had had sex! I was getting turned on by his tales of sordid sex in cars, clubs and even on her parents' sofa when they were in the next room! He had even shared her with his flat mate, which she had enjoyed a little bit more than he had expected. After a couple more glasses of wine he got me to admit to some of my fantasies. I got carried away as I typed, when he told me that he was masturbating as he read my words. It all seemed so anonymous and very, very sexy. "What turns you on?" he typed as I sipped a glass of red wine.
"Oral." I replied.
"Giving or receiving?" That hit home. God! I loved sucking cocks when I was at college; and when someone went down on me – I was in Heaven! To be fair, I had only ever had two boyfriends that would do it to me, but when they did...I screamed the house down!
Even before the messages started I regularly masturbated. I had to; my sex life with my husband had deteriorated to 'once a month' with the light off. But recently my masturbating had becoming once or twice every day. Especially when He was working late, or left early in the morning, my trusty dildo would come out, and I would 'satisfy myself'. "Giving AND receiving." I continued
"Wow! Are you good?"
"Some people used to think so."
I went on to tell him that I loved the feel and taste of a cock in my mouth. I was squirming on my sofa as I told him how much I enjoyed feeling a cock tremble just before the climax.
"When was the last time you received?"
"The week before my wedding! Lol!" It was true...
"Tell me."
"On my Hen Night, I met a sailor, who told me that he had a seven inch tongue."
"And.....?"
"He had! Heaven!!!!!!!!"
"Did you suck him off?"
"It would have been rude not to!"
"Spit or swallow?"
"Swallow –loads and loads." My own hand was in my knickers at this stage.
"Would you like me to do that to you?"
"Maybe."
The thought of him licking my pussy as I sucked his cock had my fingers spinning over my clitoris. BOOM! My orgasm hit me right in the stomach. I was gasping for air as I saw the message light flashing again.
"I've just come!" it read.
"So have I!" I returned his message.
The following day, Peter was already at his desk when I entered the office. "Are you wearing stockings?" the message read as I walked to my desk. "Maybe I am – maybe I'm not." My response whizzed back to him.
"You are – I can tell."
"How?" I responded.
"The ankles are wrinkled!" He was right I was wearing 10 denier, flesh coloured stockings and the ankles did wrinkle a little bit!
The previous evening and last few weeks had really perked me up. I was now taking a little extra time choosing my work clothes, especially the underwear, knowing that he would be taking a very close interest.
"Show me." The next message read.
"What do you mean?" I replied to him.
"Show me your stocking tops."
"I don't understand."
"I want to see up your dress.....Show me."
Shocked and amazed at what he was suggesting, I tried to ignore the message. He persisted, sending message after message, "Show me – please."
I was struggling to concentrate on my work.
My phone flashed, as I sipped my coffee, "You know you want to, I can see your nipples poking out!" I looked down. He was right; my nipples were sticking right through my lacy pink bra and shirt. I shouldn't have been surprised. I couldn't sit still, as I tried to work out a way of flashing him, but only him. Five minutes later, as I walked past Mike's empty desk with a pile of paperwork, I bumped into a chair, spilling everything on the floor, "Shit!" I hissed.
"Just sit there, and leave this to me," I chided Peter as he swivelled his seat, so he could face me.
Kneeling in front of him, I shuffled the papers together, making sure that my legs were just far enough apart for him to see up my dress and view my stocking tops and lacy panties.
It was all over in a matter of seconds, but my stomach was churning as I sauntered back to my desk. Sure enough, a message was waiting for me. "You've given me a hard on." " Ha, ha, ha! That'll teach you!" I jokingly replied. "I need to go for a wank!" I turned to see him, but he was facing his computer screen. Absolutely shocked, I couldn't think of a reply. He sent a second one straight after, "I really do, I need a wank. You looked soooooo sexy." I was still reading it when he slowly walked past me, stopping to place a sales order on my desk. My eyes went straight to his groin. MY GOD! He really did have an erection. Without speaking he turned and walked towards the men's room.
My eyes were transfixed on the door. Five minutes later, he approached my desk.
"There are a couple of things on that order that you will have to adjust for me, before it goes to the boss." He bluffed, as he dropped something onto the papers, before returning to his own desk.
I couldn't believe my eyes. He'd left a ball of squashed tissues. I tentatively touched it. It was still wet. The dirty bastard!
My phone flashed, "Do you like my present? Think of me when you smell it."
I don't know why, but I picked it up, and secretly sniffed the warm, wet, cum filled tissue, in a room full of people. The smell was intoxicating. I sniffed it again -Pure Sex. My stomach was turning cartwheels, and my heart skipping beats, as I clicked the new message on my phone again.
" It's your turn now, play with yourself." It took five attempts, but with trembling fingers I typed the word, "Alright" and rushed to the ladies toilet, with 'my present' in my hand.
Checking that there was no one else in the cubicles, I found the cleanest one and locked the door.
I pressed myself against the wall, lifted my dress above my waist, stroked my thighs through my stockings, and slid my hand down the front of my tiny g-string. My pussy was already soaking wet and red-hot as my fingers smeared my love-juice over my engorged lips. I was panting as quietly as possible when my fingers flicked and rubbed my clitoris, while I pressed his spunk stained tissue to my nose. It stunk of stale cum, but it was such an aphrodisiac, I couldn't inhale it quick enough, as my fingers whizzed over my tingling love button. "Ugh, ugh, ugh." I grunted as quietly as possible when my orgasm fizzed in my pussy and stomach....
The phone flashed, again. "So? Got a date?" I turned around again. I catch Pete a young guy who recently join the office with his phone. He raised his eyebrows, nodding at his phone.
Feeling mischievous, I typed a reply, "That's for me to know; and you to find out! Anyway, I'm married."
I was actually meeting my sister after work, and had dressed in white linen trousers and a nice white chiffon blouse, lace bra, with a slinky pair of sandals.
Seconds later he replied, "Lucky fella...hope he's worth it."
Before I could return that message, my boss was calling for me.
I wasabout to describe myslef but you can check my pics and comment them :)...anyway back to the story.
Peter is a little bit younger than I am; about 23, I'm 28. He thinks that he is 'God's gift to women'; six feet tall and dashingly handsome. He's always very well groomed and dresses immaculately. It's widely believed that he's screwed a couple of the young girls in accounts.
When I sat back at my desk, there was another message waiting for me. "Are you wearing any knickers?" I swear that I blushed as I read it. I quickly scanned the room, but he was missing.
I looked down at my linen trousers. Because they were a little bit transparent I was only wearing a very small white thong.
I subtly walked to his desk waving a piece of paper. "Have you seen Pete?" I asked Mike. Without looking up from his screen, he told me, "He's gone out on an appointment."
When I got back to my desk there was yet another message, "Well? Are you?"
I smiled at his cheek. I felt very naughty as I typed, "Yes, very small white ones." My heart was pounding as I pressed 'send'.
The rest of the afternoon dragged by. It seemed like I looked at my phone every two minutes, expecting another text message from Him.
As I got into my car, after the meal with my sister, I felt my phone vibrate. Sure enough, there was a message: "Are they around your ankles yet?"
Giggling, I quickly replied. "Hanging from the mirror!"
"WOW! I wish I was there to watch!" He immediately responded.
I switched my phone off and drove home with a nice smile on my face.
The next morning there was a message, from Him, waiting for me when I turned it back on, "In bed –playing tents - thinking of you."
I blushed like a teenager.
The messages between us carried on in this vein for the few more days. It was quite a thrill receiving and sending sexy texts. He usually commented on my clothing and appeared fascinated with my underwear. Especially after he spotted my pants one day. "I saw your g-string when you bent over." He texted me.
"I don't think so!" I replied.
"Pink with a tiny red rose at the top." Shit! He had seen them.
"Very nice – a present?"
"No - I buy my own underwear." "I bet you have some really SEXY stuff in that drawer."
Each morning he would ask what colour my panties were. I became bolder as the time went on, and would describe my knickers and bra in detail (lacy white bra and matching thong, or black push-up bra with black French knickers). It certainly livened up my day, secretly flirting with my young colleague.
Amazingly, we never mentioned the messages to each other, and continued to work alongside each other as normal.
His messages became more personal and intimate.
"Bald/Porn Star/Furry?"
"Depends!" I replied.
"On what?"
"My mood."
"Today?"
"Furry." I chuckled as I pressed send. I had never told any of my girlfriends some of the things that I was now discussing by text, with my young work colleague.
"Tell me when it's bald!" He immediately replied.
"I will."
One night, when I was alone in my house, He teased me, telling me about his girlfriend and the things that they 'got up to'. She must have been an exhibitionist, because of some of the places that they had had sex! I was getting turned on by his tales of sordid sex in cars, clubs and even on her parents' sofa when they were in the next room! He had even shared her with his flat mate, which she had enjoyed a little bit more than he had expected. After a couple more glasses of wine he got me to admit to some of my fantasies. I got carried away as I typed, when he told me that he was masturbating as he read my words. It all seemed so anonymous and very, very sexy. "What turns you on?" he typed as I sipped a glass of red wine.
"Oral." I replied.
"Giving or receiving?" That hit home. God! I loved sucking cocks when I was at college; and when someone went down on me – I was in Heaven! To be fair, I had only ever had two boyfriends that would do it to me, but when they did...I screamed the house down!
Even before the messages started I regularly masturbated. I had to; my sex life with my husband had deteriorated to 'once a month' with the light off. But recently my masturbating had becoming once or twice every day. Especially when He was working late, or left early in the morning, my trusty dildo would come out, and I would 'satisfy myself'. "Giving AND receiving." I continued
"Wow! Are you good?"
"Some people used to think so."
I went on to tell him that I loved the feel and taste of a cock in my mouth. I was squirming on my sofa as I told him how much I enjoyed feeling a cock tremble just before the climax.
"When was the last time you received?"
"The week before my wedding! Lol!" It was true...
"Tell me."
"On my Hen Night, I met a sailor, who told me that he had a seven inch tongue."
"And.....?"
"He had! Heaven!!!!!!!!"
"Did you suck him off?"
"It would have been rude not to!"
"Spit or swallow?"
"Swallow –loads and loads." My own hand was in my knickers at this stage.
"Would you like me to do that to you?"
"Maybe."
The thought of him licking my pussy as I sucked his cock had my fingers spinning over my clitoris. BOOM! My orgasm hit me right in the stomach. I was gasping for air as I saw the message light flashing again.
"I've just come!" it read.
"So have I!" I returned his message.
The following day, Peter was already at his desk when I entered the office. "Are you wearing stockings?" the message read as I walked to my desk. "Maybe I am – maybe I'm not." My response whizzed back to him.
"You are – I can tell."
"How?" I responded.
"The ankles are wrinkled!" He was right I was wearing 10 denier, flesh coloured stockings and the ankles did wrinkle a little bit!
The previous evening and last few weeks had really perked me up. I was now taking a little extra time choosing my work clothes, especially the underwear, knowing that he would be taking a very close interest.
"Show me." The next message read.
"What do you mean?" I replied to him.
"Show me your stocking tops."
"I don't understand."
"I want to see up your dress.....Show me."
Shocked and amazed at what he was suggesting, I tried to ignore the message. He persisted, sending message after message, "Show me – please."
I was struggling to concentrate on my work.
My phone flashed, as I sipped my coffee, "You know you want to, I can see your nipples poking out!" I looked down. He was right; my nipples were sticking right through my lacy pink bra and shirt. I shouldn't have been surprised. I couldn't sit still, as I tried to work out a way of flashing him, but only him. Five minutes later, as I walked past Mike's empty desk with a pile of paperwork, I bumped into a chair, spilling everything on the floor, "Shit!" I hissed.
"Just sit there, and leave this to me," I chided Peter as he swivelled his seat, so he could face me.
Kneeling in front of him, I shuffled the papers together, making sure that my legs were just far enough apart for him to see up my dress and view my stocking tops and lacy panties.
It was all over in a matter of seconds, but my stomach was churning as I sauntered back to my desk. Sure enough, a message was waiting for me. "You've given me a hard on." " Ha, ha, ha! That'll teach you!" I jokingly replied. "I need to go for a wank!" I turned to see him, but he was facing his computer screen. Absolutely shocked, I couldn't think of a reply. He sent a second one straight after, "I really do, I need a wank. You looked soooooo sexy." I was still reading it when he slowly walked past me, stopping to place a sales order on my desk. My eyes went straight to his groin. MY GOD! He really did have an erection. Without speaking he turned and walked towards the men's room.
My eyes were transfixed on the door. Five minutes later, he approached my desk.
"There are a couple of things on that order that you will have to adjust for me, before it goes to the boss." He bluffed, as he dropped something onto the papers, before returning to his own desk.
I couldn't believe my eyes. He'd left a ball of squashed tissues. I tentatively touched it. It was still wet. The dirty bastard!
My phone flashed, "Do you like my present? Think of me when you smell it."
I don't know why, but I picked it up, and secretly sniffed the warm, wet, cum filled tissue, in a room full of people. The smell was intoxicating. I sniffed it again -Pure Sex. My stomach was turning cartwheels, and my heart skipping beats, as I clicked the new message on my phone again.
" It's your turn now, play with yourself." It took five attempts, but with trembling fingers I typed the word, "Alright" and rushed to the ladies toilet, with 'my present' in my hand.
Checking that there was no one else in the cubicles, I found the cleanest one and locked the door.
I pressed myself against the wall, lifted my dress above my waist, stroked my thighs through my stockings, and slid my hand down the front of my tiny g-string. My pussy was already soaking wet and red-hot as my fingers smeared my love-juice over my engorged lips. I was panting as quietly as possible when my fingers flicked and rubbed my clitoris, while I pressed his spunk stained tissue to my nose. It stunk of stale cum, but it was such an aphrodisiac, I couldn't inhale it quick enough, as my fingers whizzed over my tingling love button. "Ugh, ugh, ugh." I grunted as quietly as possible when my orgasm fizzed in my pussy and stomach....
11 years ago
i am impressed ^_^