"YOU'VE GOT MAIL"
I can't help it; my heart always kind of skips a beat when I read that. I always wonder, "Is it him?" Very seldom, it is. He doesn't like to put anything down that might be seen by my husband. He's smart.
I'm not, I guess. I write him volumes sometimes, telling him how much I miss him, and describing in graphic detail what I think about him doing to me. He tells me to put more energy into writing stories about what we've already done. I think he likes reading them after the fact, and experiencing them through a stranger's eyes. It's voyeurism, in a way; right? That's okay. I like being watched.........by him, and by others. He knows that.
*
Consensual Restraint
8:00 A.M.
I was on the phone as soon as Gary left the house. "He'll be gone for hours," I whispered, when he picked up at his end.
"Then, get your skinny ass over here," he growled, "and let me take you to heaven." He hung up. I hung on for a few more seconds, listening to the sound of empty air and daydreaming. My hand slipped under my nightie and between my legs, my fingers absentmindedly seeking. Past the furry tuft of my mound and down, slipping easily between my moist labia, my middle finger curled and dipped inside. I was wet; I always got wet, instantly, when Dan talked to me that way.
I lay back in bed, the phone forgotten, as I began to stroke my pussy slowly. I imagined him, lying in his own bed. I wondered if he was as hard as I was wet, and my finger moved faster. With my other hand, I tossed the sheets toward my feet and spread myself wide, allowing the fingers of my right hand to explore deeper; more urgently. Soon I could hear the sounds of my own wetness. My pelvis began to move, grinding into the sheet below, and my breathing could be heard across the room.
When I came, I came hard, as I always do, imagining him. My back arched and my head swam, lost in blurry visions of lust and carnal pleasure, and I squealed my pleasure aloud. Then I noticed an intermittent buzzing in my ears.
"Oh, shit!" I grunted, and began searching for the phone I'd dropped. I found it, twisted in the sheets I'd thrown off the end of the bed, and replaced it in its cradle. "Too bad he didn't get to hear me," I pouted. He'd like that!
I was at his place in about 25 minutes. Dressed in shorts and a camisole top, I made it easy for him to get me naked. After our first kiss, my sneakers were scattered just inside the door, my top on the floor halfway to the bedroom. My shorts he hung on the doorknob, just before he pushed me onto the bed.
I lay back, my arms outstretched, and watched him undress. He's 32 years my senior, but I never tire of looking at his body. He feels the same way about me. His eyes were on me steadily as he pulled his pants off his legs, and I spread my own legs widely, showing off my pussy.
"Is that for me?" he teased, and I laughed. "Is that for ME?" I retorted, indicating his cock, which was now swinging free. It was half-hard, and stiffening quickly.
My father-in-law's cock is a beautiful thing. Emerging from a bushy growth of salt-and-pepper pubic hair, it curves slightly to his right. When fully erect, the head is broad and flat, like a poisonous snake. The shaft is thick and veiny, and long enough to touch the places in me that need to be touched. I love to feel it in my mouth, the head sliding alongside my uvula as I try to deep-throat him. Lately, I've gotten very good at it.
Dan finished removing his socks and shirt and climbed up onto the bed, his legs on either side of me. He moved up and over me until my shoulders were pinned under his knees, then laughed as he leaned forward, watching my eyes.
"Whatcha gonna do now, little girl?" he teased, dangling his cock over me. I opened my mouth and let him slide it across my lips, back and forth. I tried to catch it with my tongue as it passed over me, and he laughed again. "Oh, hell, Tori," he said, laughing. "I can't wait all day!"
With that, he plunged into my waiting mouth, and I gladly enveloped his heat.
