Hello my Dark Darlings,

I am limbo-ing under the wire of Masturbation Monday, the fantastic meme organised by fellow blogger Kayla Lords here.  There will be plenty of other sexy fodder (not just stories but pictures too) for your pleasure so please visit & comment if you can.

Send Me a Selfie

I get back from the shops and put my bag of ‘swag’ on the stairs, make myself a hot drink and check my phone for e-mails and texts while the teabag steeps in the mug.

“Home safe” I text and act nonchalant, but mentally I’m drumming my fingers on the counter until I get a reply.

“Buy anything?” the reply is frustratingly brief.

“Maybe,” if only I could get the upper hand, but I’m like a puppet on  a string, every move I make is at her whim.   I wait, no reply, maybe she’s busy at work but I suspect she’s toying with me.  I fold.

Walking to the stairs I take a photo of the deluxe carrier bag, making sure to capture its logo and name ‘Tiger Lilly’ then press send.  Now I have butterflies in my stomach until she texts a reply.

“Model for me!” she says, and a swoop of excitement hits my belly, like driving over a hump back bridge in the car when you aren’t expecting it.

“OK,” and with unseemly haste I go upstairs and into the bedroom.  Flicking a switch for music, the kind we listen to getting ready to go clubbing, I drag my boots off my feet and undo the button and zip of my skinny jeans.  After pulling them down and off my hips, I do that ‘tread water’ thing where you step on the jeans’ leg with one foot while pulling the other leg free of the tight fabric, hardly sexy!

My phone pings: she’s sent a ‘gif’ of someone waiting and getting sleepy, so I scurry to divest myself of clothes, before reverently easing my magnificent purchases out of the tissue paper in the Tiger Lilly bag.  I step into the shorts-style briefs and pull them up over my hips, they look just as sexy as they did in the changing room, hugging the curves of my rear, the siren red metallic material is hot AF!  There is a golden zip which starts at the front, against my mons, and travels right round to my rear – meaning I’d be at her mercy, to be unzipped and fondled at any given moment.  My heart beats faster at the crazy, filthy scenes which run through my head.  

As a tease, I send my first image, a belfie, but a tight close-up on the fabric and just a hint of exposed underbum.  I laugh, feeling a little giddy, while snipping the tags off the cropped bra top before easing it on.  This is also made of red, metallic fabric, the gold zip at the front, in my cleavage, is cold against my skin, raising goosebumps.  

“You devil!” is the response, with a matching emoji and I chuckle to myself.  I do feel rather devilish wearing such a clinging, revealing outfit, but I want to wrap myself up like a delicious chocolate truffle for her enjoyment!  I’m reminded of Kylie in her ‘Spinning Around’ music video so I reach round to take a tempting picture of my metallic clad bubble butt, using the selfie stick to get a better angle

The bra top has a secret weapon, a really cute cowl hood attached to the halter-neck.  I drape it over my pixie-cut hair and take another selfie, looking back over my shoulder seductively (taking these pictures, knowing she’s going to see them when she’s at work, in her little cubicle surrounded by other worker bees, is getting me really hot!)

“Little red riding hood” she texts me before long, “Wolf is hungry”.

I can’t wipe a big grin off my face.  I feel so desirable and naughty,  there’s something about wearing just underwear in the middle of the day that is so out of the ordinary that I feel like a rebel!

Another text.  “Tug on your nipples, make them hard.  I want them visible in that outfit!”

Oh!  My slit moistens at her commanding tone, I melt when she gives me orders.  I sit on the bed to roll my nipples between pincer fingers, the ache has me pressing my thighs together as I hurry to follow her instructions.  Holding up the phone to take the picture, I notice they haven’t stayed hard, if only she was here to bite and suck with her insistent mouth.  I rummage around in my toy box for my nipple sucker; depressing the bulb I apply it to my left nipple while increasing the manual pulling and pinching on my right.  I groan  with pleasure/pain, but once again the warm room thwarts my efforts, my nipples won’t stay hard.  

Back to the toy box I remove a tiny pot of nipple bands.  I roll the 2 smallest onto the suction part of the nipple sucker and apply again to my nipple, watching with fascination as it elongates into the perspex ‘mouth’ under pressure.  It tingles delightfully and I can roll down the band and trap the tip in its engorged state.  I repeat the process on my other boob and Voila! I have 2 hard nipple points straining behind the red spangled fabric that cups and covers my breasts in the crop top.

Snap!  The picture is taken and sent.  My heart thuds in my ribcage, I hope she’s pleased with what she sees, although she won’t be amused that it took so long!  I lie down on the bed, striking different poses, taking selfies and capturing different angles.  Knowing that I’m doing it to please and titillate her is making me horny.  Already I can feel a damp patch  in my gusset and the urge to rub one out is driving me crazy.  The little devil in me wonders – am I’m making her horny too?

“Very nice!”  
I preen at her praise.  
“Pull the briefs tighter, show me the outline of your cunt!”  
An illicit shock runs through me at her choice of words, but I can’t disobey. I pull on the waistband of the shorts till I feel them pressing tight against my hot wet pussy and pulling up into the crack of my arse.  I take another selfie, review it then press send.  Yeah I captured the ‘camel toe’!

“I need a bathroom break,” she texts.
She is sneaking off with her phone to have a wank in the toilet cubicle.  Yay! I’m delighted!  I lie on the bed with my legs spread and my hands near my pussy, waiting for my next instructions, my dirty mind already creating little scenarios for my pleasure, warm juices gathering in my folds.

My phone rings, startling me.  It’s her.  I press it to my ear.  “Yes Lucy?”

“Finger yourself, I want to hear how wet you are.”
I bite my lip with suppressed emotion, my pulse thumping.  
“But first slut, unzip those panties and show me how soaking wet your wanton display has got you!

My cheeks burn with shame, but I angle the phone camera at my crotch and use my other hand to drag the zip down, feeling the cool air brush against the swollen, hot  folds of my pink pouting pussy.  Doing things because I’ve been instructed, showing myself to her for inspection is a very familiar pattern, which never fails to increase my desire.  I hear her intake of breath at the sight of me, spread out, vulnerable and wet just for her.

“Do it!”  she commands, and I set to work.

I no longer try to hold the phone so she can see me, instead I lay it on my stomach so it’s close to my pussy because Lucy wants to hear. I circle my index fingers round my clit several times, it’s humming with alert nerve endings and the sensations are exquisite, I’m awash with throbs: hot and cold.  Dipping inside my pussy I drag moisture out of my depths to spread it around my labia, making the whole area smooth and slippery, so my strokes and presses have a fluidity to them which I enjoy.  I’m not ashamed of the squelching noises my fingers make as I dip in and out of my honey pot, using my own lubrication, it’s what Lucy wants to hear, along with my moans and sighs of satisfaction.

In my imagination I picture her standing in the cubicle of the ladies, with her skirt pulled up around her waist, stockings and garter belt framing her trimmed pussy, while her silky panties are dragged down, taut between her spread thighs.  I imagine her using her ring and middle finger  the same way as I am, rubbing and circling and stroking her labia, trying not to focus on her clitoris too soon.  She has to be silent, neither of us want her to be overheard, but my cunt is making distinctive squelching sounds as I pump two fingers in and out of my wet pussy, as my arousal builds.

The tension in my body increases, my legs strain and my abdomen braces, while I suspect Lucy’s body is doing the same.  I make two fingers into a V shape and rub them either side of my engorged clitty hood, it feels so damn good and has me gasping for air while my heartbeat thrums a tattoo in my chest.  At the same time I imagine Lucy tapping hard and fast on her clit, it’s how she gets off when she’s on the final straight.  My climax is building – everything in my body is as tight as a bowstring, straining for that moment when it breaks.  Suddenly I’m awash with great sensations, I’m soaring and throbbing with pulses powerful enough to make my torso twitch.  Starbursts of colour flare behind my eyes and my elation expands to lift me and make me feel fulfilled and satisfied.

As I come back to earth I slow my hands, although my fingers, still deep inside me, feel the fading twitches throb within my pussy.  Once I’m able to think outside my body, I wonder if Lucy has climaxed too.  Snatching my phone off my stomach I hold it to my ear, able to hear ragged sounds of heavy breathing at her end of the line.

“Thank you Lucy,” I say quietly, wishing she was here to hold me and cuddle as we come down.

After a pause, she sends me two emojis: thumbs up and clapping hands.

“See you tonight.”  I text back.

She sends the emoji of a lipstick kiss.

If you’re curious about the underwear my subject models it can be purchased from Crimson Princess.

Comments (3)

  1. Reply

    Ohhhh, this is familiar to me on a lot of levels. John Brownstone and I used to do similar things over the phone – from text to phone calls – until I was a wet mess. It was GREAT! 😉

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