Love Letter

I get an e-mail at work from my lady. Seems she woke up this morning, wet. My attention is instantly seized.

A second e-mail hits my in-box. She will need to relieve herself before she heads to work. I'm starting to squirm in my chair.

A third e-mail arrives. She has a toy that I gave her nestled inside her. She's holding it in with her heel as she types.

She explains that it may be the remembrance of porn she was looking at earlier, or the lube left over from our playtime the previous evening, or the memory thereof.

I can't take it any more. I want her. I want to feel my cock inside her. I want to feel her hips move against my pubic bone as I thrust into her. I want to feel my cock expand inside her, and her pussy yield to my onslaught.

I hurry to the men's bathroom. Fortunately, I'm one of the few men on my floor. I enter a stall, and close the door. Quickly, I unfasten my belt, and push my briefs down. I am fully erect at the thought of her with that toy inside her, where I want to be.

I can feel her grip me, as my hand encircles my cock. There are drops of precum already at the opening. I pump myself in the rhythmic, urgent sense that I would if I were with her, feeling myself slide in and out of her sweet pussy.

I can imagine her face, see every line, hear her breathing, moaning under me. Her hands pulling me deeper into her, between her legs.

I can feel my cum building. I am about to explode. I hold the TP at the end of my cock to catch my cum. It's a strain to remain quiet as my balls empty. The TP is soaked through from the copious cum. I drop it into the toilet, and grab more to clean my hands.

I return to my desk, sated, hoping that you are, too, my love.