Emily and I started as a long-distance relationship. We'd met when I went to Boston to visit friends, and we hit it off. We stayed in touch, exchanged letters and photos. She'd fly to the West Coast to see me in SF, and I returned to Boston for a second visit. Things were moving forward, but the week of intense non-stop sex separated by total withdrawal was hard on us both. Many of our letters become more sexually charged to compensate for the total lack of any physical contact.
At first, she sent me some cool photos of herself in the bathroom of her little apartment. In the first shot, she's pointing the camera into the mirror and covering herself, as if pretending to be modest. Another showed her in her bath, her hand suggestively between her legs. She confessed that taking self-snapshots was a turn on. As she thought of me, she'd touched herself.
She'd joke that she'd go online to and have to order a toy to "keep her company" while we were apart. The thought of her, naked after her bath, at her laptop, looking at various models of vibrators and dildos was a huge turn on for me. I wondered if she touched herself, thinking of her her toy.
I cautioned her that if she got one of those 12" dildos that she'd never be satisfied with the real thing. "Don't worry," she assured me. She said she'd pick out something perfectly sized, something that would do the trick until we were reunited.
Weeks passed and she built up the anticipation of her new purchase. In emails she'd send short updates. Like: searched tonight, many possibilities. Then came: Found one, perfect. And then: waiting for mail, horny as hell. And at last: Arrived, expect photo soon.
I couldn't believe it. She'd built it up more than a kid looking forward to Christmas. I couldn't wait to see what image she'd capture. What color was it, how big? A pocket rocket or a torpedo vibe? The famous rabbit?
At last the email appeared in my inbox. I saw that it was from her and had an attachment. I waited to open it until night, right before bed. When I finally looked at it, I was naked, hard, and ready. When I opened it, I instantly saw that she'd shaved since we were together last. Her toy was purple and hard plastic. A vibrator, I guessed. Her pussy was wet and looked like she'd already been using her toy. She lay on her back, and shot into a mirror.
Then I realized the obvious. I had completely assumed that she'd masturbated with the toy and taken a shot ust as she had finished. I took it for granted that she'd use the toy on her swollen clit and in her pussy. When I finally stopped taking in her puffy, wet, shaven labia as I beat off furiously to her image, I realized the toy was not, in fact, in her vagina, but rather stuffed in her tight backdoor. I had no idea how freaky she was! I came instantly at the sight.
Right then and there I knew I could not let this girl get away. The next day, I wrote her back my response, and an invitation to move in together and start our lives together, on the same coast. In one way, it would be the end of our long-distance. The image her last self-snap from Boston. But now, she's here. We're married, and my view is even better.
No comments:
Post a Comment