Emily knocked the cover off the ball.
She didn’t do precisely what I asked, I should say. She didn’t virtually pack the entire suitcase. There is one pair of shoes, for example. No panties, in her selections. No bras.
And yet… and yet…. A big part of the way in which she knocked the cover off the ball was in form/at. She sent a single e-mail (as I asked), without requiring a single click, but capturing the hotness of what it would be to reach under, say, that little skirt, or that soft green dress. This is a triumph in general, but especially for Emily, who generally eschews e-mail and prefers SnapChat.
One minor point (because I’m filled with minor points, it seems): Emily writes, “Also I wouldn’t need to wear a bra or panties underneath and knowing that, I’m sure, would drive a man wild and have him ready to take it all off at once.” This is not a sentence targeted at me – in two ways. First, grammatically, it’s not targeted at me: a man? What man? Wasn’t this done for me? Aren’t I the man you’re trying to “drive wild”? And second, if it is me that you’re trying to drive wild… you always should wear panties. I’m just not the guy who’s driven wild by the knowledge that there’s nothing between you and your Calvins. I’m the guy who’s driven wild imagining what it is that’s touching your pussy, what it is that I’m going to press my beard into, my nose into, my mouth into. What it is that I’ll sneak my fingers under, around, before slowly removing it. Or tearing it off. So. There’s that.
She knocked the cover off the ball.
Don’t you think? I mean, doesn’t this make you want to give her a massage, sliding a finger or three into her wet, wet pussy? Doesn’t it make you want to tear each item of clothing off of her while kissing the back of her neck, grabbing her breasts? (A funny thing about Emily: she talks a sort of gentle game – “slip” my hands, “move towards” her breasts – but that’s not, really, what she wants. She wants me to be rough with her, to toss her around, to grab her breasts, her ass, to tear the clothes she’s selected off of her, to ravish her with my tongue, my cock. But anyway. Where was I?)
Doesn’t it make you want to do that?
It makes me want to. For sure.
See what she sent, after the jump….