Day two starts innocent. I greet my lover with a good morning, asking him if he slept well. Wondering what he is going to do today. He tells me he is going to a lake with his family. I am practically going to do the same thing, but thousands of miles away. He is on a holiday trip. We are wishing each other a fun day. Secretly I hope to chat with him again tonight.
My husband and I arrive at the lake. He is going to work out, while I set up a small tent and prepare for a barbecue. There are only a few people at the spot, so I feel comfortable to check my phone. I am still in disbelief about last night. I scroll through my chat history and read our conversation again. It feels like I relive the moment, feeling all warm and fuzzy.
I feel good today and think I look good too. I am wearing my long hair down, no makeup, just natural. I decide to take a selfie and send it to him, saying, thinking about you. A Few minutes later I receive a response.
“This must be telepathic. I just took a selfie too, to send to you,” he says.
I open his photo. He looks very pure and manly. His hair wild, sunglasses, a light beard and wearing a normal shirt. I am melting inside! The most important thing is his smile. He smiles just for me, he took that photo just for me. It makes me feel special.
My husband is finished with his workout and joins me. I ask him to take a picture of my full body.
“Is this for your lover?” he asks.
“Maybe…” I smile like the sadist I am.
I see him feeling small as he sits on his knees to take a picture.
“You just used me… To take a picture of your beautiful body and it is not for me…” He says with sad dog eyes.
I ignore what he said, but approve the photo.
We start our barbecue and I leave him with an erection the whole time, while I talk about looking forward to chatting with my lover.
We are home now. I am keeping a sharp eye on my phone. Hoping for a notification, hoping it is him. Finally, he can chat. The urge to get to know each other is abnormal. We discover we have so much in common. It is like it is meant to be that our paths are crossing at this moment in our life.
“Where have you been all of this time?” he says.
“Please don’t think that way. I am here now. Be happy you already lived the life you have until now,” I say.
I don’t like to think, what if… Because without all the life experience I have, I wouldn’t be the woman I am today. He agrees and lets the thought go.
“This is magnetic,” he says.
“Talking about magnetic, it is the word I used in my thoughts that I wrote down yesterday,” I say.
I am doubting and feeling a bit shy to let him know my bare thoughts after our first chat. I stop chatting and take a deep breath. I copy my thoughts, paste them in our chat and send it to him… I am afraid to look. How will he respond?
“Wow, you are describing my thoughts. I only didn’t imagine a cafe. You are so pure!” he says.
Then the inevitable happened, our first erotic chat.
“Close your eyes. Imagine I am standing behind you, my arms around your arms,” he says.
“I would love that, feeling your warmth. Shivering, feeling your breath in my neck.”
“My hands are slowly lowering, embracing your belly.”
“My head turning to you, pressing my forehead against your cheek. One hand gently touching your neck. Enjoying feeling your skin, your smell, wanting to taste you. May I kiss you?”
“My lips softly touching your lips.”
“What are you feeling?”
“I am blushing, burning inside…”
“Corner of your mouth, my tongue slowly enters…”
“Your tongue, my tongue, melting together, sensual, slowly, so erotic.”
“My hand suddenly under your shirt, touching your skin. What are you thinking?”
“I can’t think anymore… I feel you. I want this, I want this so bad…”
It is late and I must get up early in the morning. Yes, I would love to fantasize more with him. But we still want to take it slow.
“Meet me in our dreams,” I say.
“Meet you there.”
My husband is sitting on the end of the bed. I have a rule that he needs to sit on his knees, waiting for permission to join me in bed.
“You can come in now,” I say.
He jumps on the bed and asks me if he can masturbate. I let him.
“The way you look while you are chatting with him… I feel humiliated,” he says.
I firmly grab his balls, which he loves and whisper to him that he is not enough for me. He starts to make whining sounds, jerking himself off and comes… A lot…
I can’t help thinking about my lover though. Who is this man? He makes me, a grown-up woman, feel weak in the knees. His choice of sentences is touching me, deeply. I feel all his words, like he is there, for real. This is rare, nobody ever made me go flow in an erotic way with just texts. I mean, it goes so natural. It is not pleasing the other person, but more like a magnet… Intense… Beautiful. The power of attraction he has on me, it is bizarre. I love it and I love my sweet dog of a husband.
To be continued. Follow me to get a notification!