You’ve been teasing me all day, sending me pictures of your hard cock along with texts of what you would like to do to me tonight. It’s the first night off that you and I have both had in two weeks, and we are both in serious need of some stress relief. I got myself all ready for you, taking a long, hot shower, then shaving everywhere that needed it and rubbing my body down with your favorite lotion. It smells of jasmine and green tea with a hint of aloe, and it makes my skin feel silky smooth like my new robe. I smile to myself as I run my fingertips along the fabric and slip into my favorite shoes. I know how much you love fucking me when I’m wearing nothing but heels and my glasses, although I know you won’t have any trouble wanting to get your hands on me tonight. The wine is chilling, I have freshly cut strawberries, and I know you’ll be home in less than half an hour. I loosely braid my hair, and just as I am tying it, my phone buzzes with a text from you.
“Hey, babygirl. I’m going to be a couple of hours late. I’m sorry.”
I groan in frustration and flop down dramatically on the sofa, resisting the urge to kick the walls. I rest my hands on my stomach and absentmindedly move my fingertips a little lower until they are resting on my inner thigh. I pick up my phone and scroll through the texts you’ve sent me, and I feel a familiar tingling spreading through my body. I bite my lip as my fingertips trail towards my pussy, and it is only then that I realize where my fingers are. I freeze and my heart starts beating faster. I know that you don’t like me touching myself when you can’t watch, but I’m so turned on that I don’t think I can stand it.