Dear Honey, is that your real name.
Hi, I'd like to...
I'm an unhappily married white male looking for someone to do what my wife won't....
Hi, I'm in town this weekend and wondered
Hi, I'm 5'7, grey eyes and want to give you a mustache ride.....
Honey (yes, her real name was Honey) Delaney selected each of the messages in her inbox and clicked the delete button. How hard was it to find someone to email fantasies to. After all, that's why she joined the adult sex service. She was looking for someone with decent writing skills who could convey their fantasies through email. She didn't want to talk to them, or hear about their wives. She wasn't interested in them at all, she just wanted to know about their fantasies.
The next day at work her blackberry notified her that her private email account had received a message. Turning to face the aisle (to prevent someone from sneaking up behind her and looking over her shoulder) she quickly logged onto the account and pulled up her inbox.
Honey is used to soften hair in Middle Eastern countries before beginning the hair removal process. Did you know that?
That caught her attention. She knew that her aesthetician could use sugaring as a way of arching her eyebrows, but didn't know about the honey. Then she wondered why she was getting spam mail about hair removal. She started to hit delete when she saw the next line.
I want you to lay down right here on this towel, while I get the honey. Don't worry it's not hot, just barely warm. Lift your hips while I pull your panties down. Very nice panties they are. Now close your eyes, nope, don't look. That's right, you can feel the stickiness as I slather the honey on you down there. Yes it is messy, that's why you're lying on the towel. Now, just lie there for a moment, while I blow to keep things heated. Nope, don't wiggle and don't spread your legs, just lie there.
A coworker passed by the aisle and Honey looked up for just a second before returning to the message.
Nice, all sweet and sticky. I'll be back in one second. No, I don't need any help, I'm just going to use this warm towel to clean you up. Yes, lift your hips, the honey dripped down between your cheeks. What? It dripped somewhere else too? Show me. Yes, I do see honey there, but it's not the honey I used. It will be fine. Let's leave this towel on you to get the hairs even softer. Ah, you guessed my treat. That's right, I'm going to help you shave, but you'll need to stay very still, as I don't want to cut you.
"Honey, Honey!" She looked up to find one of the computer geeks standing at her desk. "I need to swap out your monitor."
"Uhm, fine, how long will this take?"
"I'll be done in five minutes or so."
"Okay, I'm going to run down to the cafeteria and get something to drink, while you do that."
Sitting at a table in the back of the cafeteria, Honey resumed reading.
Let's see, is it soft enough? I know it's unorthodox but I think my freshly shaven face rubbing you there is the best indicator of whether or not it's soft enough. I'm going to start by trimming the hair with these scissors. I may need to gently pull on the hair to get it close enough, without cutting you of course. Honey, I told you that you need to be still, I can't do this and have your hips moving every time I tug on your hair.
Can you spread your legs for me. I just need to get these last few hairs trimmed. I'm sorry, did my knuckle stroke you? It wasn't intentional. I'll be right back. Okay, lets get this shaving foam on you. No...you know I can spread it by myself...well if you insist. You missed a spot, right here. Now it's really important that you lie still, the razor is sharp. What's that, leave a strip of hair and get rid of everything else? Okay.
Honey looked up and there was the computer geek standing over her. She arched an eyebrow.
"Yeah, I'm done and thought I'd come find you."
She sighed and thanked him.
Returning to her desk, she noticed her phone blinking. Saving the email message she turned off the blackberry.
Getting home that night she settled into the tub with the blackberry and continued reading her message.
Smooth as silk. Feel it. No just feel the sides with no hair, not there. Sigh, you're being difficult. It looks pretty nice too, let me get you a mirror. Yes, see how it allows your dark beauty to shine through. Like chocolate mixed with honey. It looks like something else is shining through as well. Is it always that big? Nevermind. Okay, it's time for the back. Hmm, yes, well you can't do the front and not the back. Be back in a minute.
Okay, turn over and kneel. This is going to be warm. Uhm, no I don't think we need any honey back here. Yes, I'm sure. Okay, time to see if it's soft enough, no, I'm not using my face again. Yes that's my tongue. Now, spread your legs a bit more so I can get close. That's good. Please be still. What are your hands doing up there? Spank you? I don't think so, not this time anyway. Now that is beautiful, as bare as the day you were born. Okay, hold still while I get something to moisturize your skin to prevent shaving bumps.
It's just a bit of oil, I know it's cold drizzling down between your cheeks. What? The front needs attention? Okay, turn over. Nice and smooth. Do what?
Look at the time, I need to go. Bye Honey.
Honey groaned in frustration. Whoever it was had hit a button with her. She loved being teased and tempted.
She got out of the tub and logged onto the service to send a message to the sender. When she entered the username, the system responded that the user could not be found.
Honeysuckle, Day 2
Honey sat in first class, sipping on a glass of water when her blackberry buzzed. It has been a long week since the last message she received and she had given up hope of hearing from Honeysuckle again. Her best friend had commented, "what kind of man calls himself honeysuckle?" Honey thought it was a clever play on her name, but who knew, maybe it was a woman. A thought that was not repulsive to Honey in any manner.
She started to check her email when she remembered that she was on a plane and there was no internet connection, so she couldn't check for any new messages. Just then her blackberry buzzed.
She checked her personal messages and there was one, from Honeysuckle. For someone to have beamed a message to her, they would have to be on the same plane with her. The thought didn't scare her as much as it probably should have, after all, she still didn't know who this person was.
Hi Honey, are you wearing anything under that skirt?
She looked around to see who else was using a PDA (personal digital assistant) on the plane and unfortunately every passenger in first class had some sort of pda out and she was sure there were just as many, if not more in coach.
Throwing caution to the wind, she replied.
Yes.
Tsk, tsk, Honey. You shouldn't be. How will you use the gift I've gotten for you if you're wearing panties.
What gift?
First you need to take them off and then I'll tell you. Go into the forward lavatory and remove them. Put them into the trash.
What if someone finds them?
Who cares?
Honey stood, making her way to the bathroom, self consciously looking about at her fellow passengers. No one looked up or paid any attention to her. She stood in the restroom for a moment before removing her panties and dropping them into the wastebasket. She tried to bury them under mounds of paper towels so that whoever went in after her would not associate her with them.