Do You Love Me In Vinyl...

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Seeing her lover on TV inspires a sensual e-mail.
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I watched you on TV today, baby. I wish I could have been there with you, instead of watching you make false eyes at...

Anyhow, watching you inspired me. That little Catholic schoolboy outfit was the perfect touch. You know what it made me think? I'm sure you do, but let me tell you because I think you need to hear it, to read it with your own eyes. It's a delicious fantasy that I'm going to share with you so that you'll remember you are mine.

I miss you.

In this sultry tale, you do nothing more than come home to me. You enter our condo, dressed in those black slacks. A long-sleeve black shirt, buttoned down and tucked into your slacks. An equally dark sweater vest covers your chest, and your ensemble is completed with a shiny tie. Tucked neatly inside your outfit like the good (are you?) little schoolboy that you are. You look twelve and your grin is that of a child on the first day of school; discovering new ways to obstruct your education. Will you speak out of turn in class?

You tell me, baby. What am I going to spank you for tonight?

You wear that lopsided grin like a suit of armor as you saunter in the door. You glance around the living room, finding nothing but the soft purr of our cat and the television. The cat's asleep, and Leno is already on. You abandon the fruitless search of this room, and enter the kitchen where you find nothing. The dishes are washed, the table is clear. You're not hungry, but you almost long for a plate of brownies on the table. Perhaps some cookies in a jar by the sink.

You embrace these memories of childhood as you leave the room and turn toward our bedroom. Just a few short steps will bring you through the door, into the room, and you will see me lying on our bed in my red vinyl corset. You know the one, and though the lights are out it's abundantly clear to you what I am wearing- and not wearing. Black fishnets, thigh-high black vinyl boots. No panties. Your favorite outfit, baby.

You told me once, in the throes of passion, that you "love me in vinyl". Those were your words, and so tonight, I ask you, do you still love me in vinyl? I think I love you as the dirty little Catholic schoolboy.

Play your role. Walk toward the bed, gaze me up and down. Wonder why I'm wearing this outfit to greet you home. Ponder whether you are overdressed, or whether I loathe what you are wearing. Feel like a dork, because you know you look like one.

Is that not loving? Was I not supposed to say that?

It's true, baby. You know you need to be spanked. Instead, I will waste no time in standing up and approaching you. I will grab your sweater vest and watch you smirk as I tug on the wool and pull you into me. Our lips will meet in a torrid embrace of sensuality and you will taste a hundred reasons why you've missed me. You'll remember my every crevice, and the way I love it when you tug softly on my bottom lip with your teeth. How I coo when you run your hands up my back and pull me into your strong body. Do you remember how I love to be teased? How I go wild with excitement when you kiss me, then pull away slowly and stare into my eyes before delving back into my body with your tongue?

I know you know all this, and this is why you waste no time. You step back, stare into my eyes and I take this opportunity to enact my fantasy.

The fantasy.

I watch you as you watch me, but I give you no more than a minute before I approach you and tug your vest off and toss it across the room. Soon, your shirt contains no buttons and is thrown to the floor. The tie still hangs around your neck, strangely; and I use this to guide you down on top of me. You remove your pants within seconds and next thing I know, you are deep inside me. I am so warm and wet and I want you with the built up desire of three months. You've been gone for three months since the last time you were between my thighs. Do you even remember this?

I know you do, because you are harder than you've ever been and so very warm inside my already boiling body. I could explode; I will explode; but not until you explode. Together, perhaps?

Perhaps.

Though for now, I am simply content to feel you stretch my walls and push in and out of my body.

I've missed you.

I miss you.

I miss you a lot.

When will you be home and back inside me?

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