You read part 1. Now, we begin part 2….
Open the envelope
in the top drawer of the deskon the round table.
You now have two errands to conduct. Please complete them and be back no later than 3:15:
1) Go to the bookstore just across the street. Find a book of erotica that you think will get you off. Buy it. Tell someone in the store that you’re about to go masturbate to it. Could be a cashier. Could be a hot woman or man. But strike up a conversation with someone and make that happen. Text me a photo of the cover of the book you’ve bought.
2) Go to Babeland…. I encourage you to take a cab, using the contents of the envelope [I had put $140 in the envelope]. Spend as much of the money as you can on one or more vibrators/dildos. Don’t buy a magic wand. But anything else is fair game. Tell someone that you’re executing instructions from your (boyfriend/dom). Text me a photo of what you’ve bought.
Come back with your booty. And your booty. 😉 Text me when you are settled once again.
And if it’s not yet 3:15, please play with yourself with your new toy(s). Of course, you may not come. And please – record yourself as you do so.
At 3:15…. check your next e-mail.
I was going about my day. I did a bit of work. At 2, I left to have a weekly lunch with three friends. While I was at lunch, I received the three following photos in fairly rapid succession:
I returned at 3:10, moments after Charlotte had e-mailed, “I’m back!”
For five minutes, please write. Stream of consciousness. About how your pussy is feeling, how your mind is feeling. Send me what you write at 3:20 and….
At 3:20, please sit on the couch. Wait for me. Your fingers should smell thoroughly of your pretty pussy.
Charlotte writes less in five minutes than I do. At 3:21, I received this: “I had a glass of wine during my errands because I was nervous. I’m not as nervous as I was, but, still slightly nervous. I like that I don’t know what’s next.”
And at 3:25, I fetched her. Still in her black jeans, and in the purple patterned top. She looked good as I found her. But I wanted her on the floor.
“Get down on your hands and knees,” I said.
“Get down on your hands and knees,” I said, and I took her phone from her hands.
Now crawl to me, I said.
Charlotte began laughing. “I feel silly,” she said. “Embarrassed. You’re making me crawl like a dog!”
“Not like a dog!” I protested. “Like a woman who’s doing precisely as she was asked! Very different!”
Charlotte crawled the length of the hallway. I drank in her cleavage, temptingly revealed by the loose top, the bustier, and the angle.
“Can I stand when I get to the threshold?”
“You may stand when you are across the threshold.”
My cock was hard again. How could it not be. I had a beautiful, intelligent, curious, funny woman doing precisely what I wanted, even as it made her slightly anxious, uncomfortable. We had about 40 minutes, during which time Charlotte edged a few times for me, sucked my cock some more. Charlotte’s cunt was redolent. I smelled it, even as her jeans were buttoned up again. It took a special kind of willpower not to devour her, to drink it in, right then and there.
We chatted a bit. After which, I sent her on her way again.
“You’ll get your next e-mail at 5,” I said.
“What are you going to do between now and then?” she asked.
Perhaps she was jealous? Worried? “I’m working out. With my trainer,” I said.
“Ah,” she said. And she left me.
Next up: conversation, and drinking, begins.
P.S. I’m posting this with Charlotte sitting next to me. About to suck my cock. About to have her ankles tied to a chair, her thighs parted, as I collect orgasm after orgasm from her. She looks a bit abashed as I type these words with her watching. But it’s all. true.