Even more messages.

Evidently I get very bored and very pent-up without much needed release, courtesy of The Boyfriend.

Luckily, he can access the internet where he is, so I like to torture him a little when he checks his messages.

Ah, summer. It's pleasant enough that I can sit outside, which makes me feel less guilty about fiddling away vacation on the computer.

I'm making good use of the patio furniture. My laptop is of course perched on the table underneath the umbrella, and I am perched adjacent to it in a chair similiar to a rocking chair, only spring-loaded. It's fun. I'm bouncing up and down and watching my reflection in the sliding glass door.

And I'm thinking of straddling you and sliiiiding down over you, shifting to take every last inch, until we're fully connected and I moan at how deep you are, with my back arched while you just lay back and relax and marvel at the hot, slick sensation of being inside me.

(Brief interjection: oh Lord. I'm practically vibrating with desire and I need to be fucked. Badly.)

I would rotate my hips and lean forward, grinding into you, sending shock waves of pleasure through my clit and into my stomach and legs. You'd lift your own hips and I'd bounce with the power of your thrusts, calling your name until I tense with impending orgasm and climax loudly. A little more movement on your part and you'd do the same, gasping as you exploded into me. We'd both relax and I'd bend to rest my head on your chest, with you still inside me.

I swear, I get dirtier every day. My apologies if it's too much. I think I have a pornographic calling.

I love you and I want you to make love to me every day. Maybe twice a day. Maybe more.

Brrr, a more chilly breeze just blew my way, but it's still light outside and around 65-70 degrees, so I'll stay put for a while longer.

I feel so cheesey and cliche, but I also feel extremely turned on and writing is really my only outlet. I like to think of you reading my notes and getting a hard on in public. (Yep. Evil. It's in my blood.)

Last night I didn't go to sleep until two in the morning. I was involved in an elaborate fantasy...I thought I'd make the best of my completely smooth self while I could.

I lay in bed and thought of our future selves. I couldn't decide who would be waiting at home for the other to come home from work, but it didn't really matter. I flip flopped back and forth, but mostly I settled on me either being home to begin with, or coming home before you. Mostly because the anticipation would help me to be ready for you; also because I could change or freshen up if work was tiring; and because I just enjoy ambushing you.

It's difficult for me to hold on to fantasy. I'm not used to it; I'm better just focusing on pleasure, and my brain makes me replay things over and over. It gets very frustrating when I'm just trying to get turned on and get off. But I thought I'd try because thinking about the things you do to me turns me on more than I can do to myself, and I wanted to be ALL the way turned on, for penetration to be more enjoyable rather than just playing with my clitoris.

Anyway, you'd come home, in your sexy work clothes; I'd have a skirt (nothing underneath) and heels and a button-up shirt, for the purpose of my fantasy. You'd walk in the door and I'd kiss you lightly, like always..and then deeper. You'd get the idea, of course, and unbutton my shirt. Fondling, kissing, unzipping, sucking, licking, gasping, pushing my skirt up to my hips and fucking me on the kitchen counter, on the living room couch, against the wall, on the stairs, on the chair in the office, coming there inside me; ripping my clothes off and doing it again on the bed, from the front, spooning, from behind, with my arms over my head and my wrists tied together and my legs spread roughly apart, first gently and then much harder, me coming messily and you all over my breasts and stomach.

That was the fantasy going on in my head. (Do I ever turn you off with how explicit I am? I can certainly tone it down, but I'll still be thinking it of course.)

What I was doing was massaging my breasts with my hand going into my shirt, the way you do; unbuttoning the shirt and throwing it across the room, pushing my pants down and tossing them off. I stroked myself up and down, caressing my curves and quietly moaning so no one would hear me, paying particular attention to the insides of my thighs, wandering over my snatch and enjoying the new sensations and my silky, bare skin. (It really does feel so much better, mmm.) I dipped a finger into myself, but I wasn't quite ready so I rubbed gently up and down with the lengths of my fingers, and did a circular, and then wavelike motion on my clit with wet fingertips, which sends pulses of shivery pleasure up my spine and gives me goosebumps (I'm rather pleased with this new discovery, it ALMOST feels like I might orgasm but inevitably I'm too lazy to do it long enough).

I took out the new vibe (I really like how bright red it is, and the texture), and decided to ignore the defect. The vibration is stronger than Sam's, but not concentrated in one spot so it's hard to figure it out. But with the end of the curved tip against the clitoris, it gives me enough satisfaction to keep it there for a while. Then I slide it up inside of me, which was a little uncomfortable because I'm not used to wider penetration anymore (I miss your fingers) and I wasn't entirely lubricated. So I went back to the clitoris and played around until I came to a fantastic orgasm, much much longer and more satisfying than what Sam can do (even though I love my tiny Fukuoku). I turned it off and moved my fingers back inside, increasing the lubrication and playing with the G-spot (but again, too tired/lazy to get anywhere except getting juicier) until I thought I could try the vibe again. Felt much easier and more comfortable and pleasurable than before, but I couldn't figure out how to apply the vibration to the G-spot to get that kind of orgasm, so I'll have to try harder next time...

Then I was tired and I went to sleep naked, my favorite way.

Well, that was fun, and rather clinical actually. ^^

After you reply to these notes, you OWE me some of your own.

And no more of that "I haven't got a camera" BS because disposable cameras are cheap and I fully intend to send you a shot of what I've got. I neeed pictures of your cock (pardon the term), preferably aroused as hell.

Thus concludes my session of, You Have an Extremely Nasty Girlfriend.