Thank you for your Email.
You did well, mostly. You followed my intructions almost to the letter, and I’m very proud of you. I’ll probably not punish you harshly for that one small variance.
It was fun exchanging text messages with you while you carried out my wishes with 1200 miles of aether between us. You were very panicked and didn’t have faith that you could do it at first, and comforting you and consoling you with my thumbs was an exercise in distraction and multi-tasking.
Thank you also for the publicly posted photos, and for the secret little message you sent in them. Does it excite you knowing that people who read your little blog will see that message, but not understand it? They probably won’t even notice it. I think it feeds your secret exhibitionism as much as it arouses mine.
(My Email to you continues below the fold)
The shoes you wore to dinner with your husband were perfect. I love strappy shoes. Do you wonder what he’d say if he knew you wore them for me? Do you think it would bother him to know that when you dug them into his back later that night, you were stamping my name in the bruises of his flesh? I think it would turn him on. In fact, I’m sure of it.
Did I mention that he was texting me too, last night? You didn’t know we knew each other, did you? The conversations I have with him are not so different than the ones I have with you, to tell the truth.
I spoke to him by Email earlier this morning. It would seem that while you were thinking of me last night when you were fucking him, he was thinking of me while he was fucking you. Isn’t that some kinky shit?
You should see the video he took.
So anyway, the skirt was a little long for my taste, but I know you were pressed for time, and you love that skirt. It’s length was probably for the best anyway, it being your first foray into long-distance exhibitionist submission. And when you reached under the table, there in the restaurant, across from your husband, and plunged your fingers deep inside yourself, it did afford you some measure of safety and security. I won’t hold that against you.
When he looked up from texting me, and saw you sucking your fingers, I think he was completely oblivious to what it was you were tasting on them. Not getting caught was a very important part of my instructions, and you were gracefully nonchalant about it.
My only complaint is that one little deviance you made. I told you to wear black stockings. The nude colored ones were lovely, darling, but that’s not the instruction I gave you. And really, Dearest – the run in the left one high on the inner thigh was unsightly, even if it was covered by your skirt.
Just about now, you’re probably scratching your head, wondering how I came to know that little detail you left out of your Email. No, your husband didn’t give it to me, and it’s obviously impossible to tell from the photos.
It turns out that there wasn’t 1200 miles of aether between us. It was more like 12 feet.
Just so y’know.
From whence came the art:
That image is titled Candela’s Restaurant and Lounge by HolyHolySnappers, and is licensed by the artist under the Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 2.0 license.