I woke up Tuesday morning to the sound of my text chime.
"Don't forget to water my plants."
Still groggy and spent from last night's Skype session, I stumbled into the shower and began my morning routine making sure that I left myself time to water her plants.
When I entered her apartment the first thing I noticed was how impeccably clean it was. I decided I should let her know that I was inside and texted her:
"Watering them now."
"Good. Don't forget to water the one in the bedroom."
I looked around and couldn't find a watering can, so I went into the kitchen and filled up a glass. There were various plants placed intermittently around the house. One stood perched on top of a bookshelf and I couldn't help notice its content. A few erotica anthologies, four or five Andrew Blake DVDs, some gay porn intermingled with a pretty interesting collection of classic literature and science fiction. Done with the plants in the living room, I went into the bedroom.
On her bed was a pink lacey silk thong. Next to it was a note.
"Wear this to work today."
Just as I was picking the thong up another text message came in.
"Did you get my present? Have you put them on yet?"
"Just found them. Not wearing them," I wrote back and then paused. "Yet," I typed, completing the sentence.
"Well put them on so we can be twins!" That reply had an accompanying photo of her standing naked in front of the mirror wearing identical panties.
I stripped off my pants and underwear and pulled the thong on. The fabric fit snugly into my ass crack, but the front barely held in my engorged dick.
"OK, they are on." I wrote her.
"Send pic!"
Her bedroom had a fairly sizable full-length mirror and I stood in front of it and snapped a shot. It took about four shots until I was satisfied and sent it to her.
"Yum."
"OK, I have to get to work," I wrote and started putting my pants on over the thong.
"Have fun," came the reply.
I got to work about five minutes late and the office seemed particularly quiet. It was a small office with typically just four other people besides me. I knew that Richard and Scott were both out at meetings all day, but Jenny and Susan should be in. Just then Jenny stepped out of her office.
"Susan's sick," she said. "Just you and me."
I had only been in the office for a couple of weeks, but I already liked Jenny. She was about three years older than me but had the same job title so she didn't have any official seniority over me. She was easy to joke around with and had been very helpful at showing me the ropes.
"How have you been?" I asked.
"Bleh," she said, sticking out her tongue, "Brian's being a douche."
Brian was her husband. I had met him a week ago after work when he stopped by to pick her up. It was not hard imagining him being a douche. He had a frat boy air about him and a sense of self-importance that has always rubbed me the wrong way.
"Oh, sorry. How's he being a douche?"
"Its stupid. We were at a dinner party last night and he got drunk and when he's drunk he's mean. Started calling me tubby and then started playing that stupid game where you make a list of celebrities you can sleep with. He was making it a point to list the skinniest celebrities he could think of."
Jenny is certainly not skinny, but I wouldn't call her fat either. Jenny was a redhead and had that buxom Irish look to her.
"Then when we got home," she continued, "He started to demand that I suck his dick." Whoa, I thought, this was a new territory of conversation. "I told him to suck his own dick and went to bed. I mean, really. I can count on one hand the number of times that he has spent meaningful time down there, but he thinks I should suck his dick on demand. Its not like it is a huge deal—I mean the guy can only last about thirty seconds."
I must have been staring at her in disbelief, because she suddenly had that look on her face that one gets when they realize they may have shared too much. But then she quickly added, "I could really go for a real fuck right now."
The way she looked at me I could see in her eyes that this was not just an off hand comment. She wanted to fuck and she wanted it to be me. My dick began to move when I remembered that I was wearing a damn thong. Dammit, Rose.
That moment of hesitation was enough to break her from her spell. She blinked at me and said, "OK, back to work," and scurried back into her office.
I walked into my office and turned on my computer. Skype automatically loaded and within a minute there was an incoming call from Rose. Her video went up and there she was sitting in her hotel room in nothing but her pink panties.
I gave her the "shh" sign with my finger and she began to type.
"I'm on lunch break, but I had to come up here and Jill off to your photo. How is your day?"
"Jill?"
"You Jack off and I Jill off."
I told her about Jenny and how I could be engaging in some office hanky-panky if it weren't for her panties. She gave me a very insincere frowny face and wrote back, "What do my panties have to do with it?"
"Right." I write back, "Just what I need, my coworker to pull down my pants to be confronted with a pink thong."
"She would think it was hot. It shows you have a feminine side. I dare you to go do it."
I was quickly learning that Rose doesn't play fair. I freely admit that being told to wear a thong all day while the woman who told me to do so was not only wearing an identical thong, but was also in a hotel room masturbating to a picture of me in mine, was making me monumentally horny. So when she challenged me to go into the next office and fuck my co-worker while wearing my thong the rational side of me had already long since flown the coop.
"I have to get back to the conference," she wrote, "When I see you next I want all the vivid details."
