Seduction by Email

He immediately sat back in his chair, his shoulders slumped and he started to say how sorry he was for what he'd done, a heartfelt, sad and sincere apology that was so very cute. In response I stood up, looking kind of abused and pouty, then leaned my torso over his desk and pulled my skirt up around my waist, so my ass was looking him in the face.

Since you started, you might as well finish, I whispered back to him.

Huh? he stammered.

Would you, I breathed, fuck me there? I never tried it, I lied, and you seem to want me, so...would you?

He would. He did. The drug kept his cock hard and he slowly inserted it into my anal passage. He was even more physical than before. That might have come from the verbal encouragement I gave him.

Mr. B, I grunted as he smushed into my ass cheeks hard with each thrust, I've heard men sometimes like to hear women talk, um, naughty during sex. Would you mind if I tried?

He didn't.

Your cock in my ass feels like you are fucking me all the way up into my tummy, I said. My little pussy is jealous so I'll put a finger in there while you jam my butt. I am so naughty to be fucking your married cock on your desk, to be cumming all over your blotter, to want your semen to spurt deep inside my buttery little girl butt. I should be spanked.

Oooh, I'm cumming, Mr. B. You're making my cunt spout and spew. Can you feel it? Can you feel me cumming? Ooooh Mr. B, oooh yes, don't hold back, fuck it really hard, give me every inch of your wonderful cock, slide ever bit of it inside my ass, yes, yes, hard, hard, uh, fuck, suck, oh, cunt, pussy, ass, mmm, cum, spunk, jiz, snatch, twat, ooo, fuck, fuck, fuck my nasty, naughty needy little girl cunt. Mmmm, another cum is cumming. Uh, uh, uh.

And so on.

For the rest of the summer Mr. B and I spent hours in his office, fucking in every conceivable position, while he was on the phone with his boss, or chatting with his wife, me fellating him while he was video conferencing, him eating peach slices out of my cunt, me hanging out a window, flirting with a passing lecturer while Mr. B ass fucked me behind the curtain, me with my knees duck taped to my shoulders, me begging daddy to cum inside his nasty stepdaughter's naughty wittle honey suckle flower petals, him behind me fucking my overflowing cunt while we watched porn vids on my phone.

And cumming, and cumming, and cumming. Cum showers, cum facials, cum for lunch, cum in my coffee, in my hair, in my mouth, ass, cunt, belly button. In my birthday card. How sweet. Nobody ever did that before.

But school started up and we no longer had any opportunities for sex on campus. We tried his BMW, but it was pretty cramped in there.

So I quit. I moved on. It was time he started giving his wife all that cum. And they were both pretty danged horny by the end of summer, I can attest, having become two free fucking wild people desperately seeking their next orgasm.

And I began looking for my next man. Which brings me to you, Mr. P. When I saw you for the first time I felt the electricity without being touched. You made me wet, just looking at you. I went home and fucked you five ways to Sunday. I hope you don't mind.

I want a full time man. I want to cook for you, then serve myself for dessert. I want to go away to B and B's and spend the days in bed. I like lust, but I'd like to try love too. I want to cum because you make me feel wanted, needed, important, loved.

I'm about your age, probably a few years younger. I only want one man at a time, though I may take a lady lover here and there. I'd share her with you. I'm a happy, slightly mischievous, healthy, good living, fun and funny woman who just happens to be slightly kinky.

I hope you are a good man. I've spoken to a few people who know you and they assured me you are. I've watched you sing and play on Saturdays at the coffee shop. I love your songs. I have a decent voice and can harmonize. I've never seen you with a girlfriend.

And so, I will leave you now. If you aren't repulsed, mortified, by what you've read here. If you would like to feel how wet you make me. If you would let me cum on your face. If you are hard right now as you read this. Then I hope you want to meet me.

If nothing else, you will get laid. I hope you want that to happen every day of the year.

If so, send a reply to this email.

Yours, PJ.

I could barely breath. I stared a long time at my computer after I read that. I read it again. Then again.

I looked out my window, wondering who she might be. A store clerk? A friend of a friend? Somebody I made eye contact with in the coffee shop? I could not imagine who.

I thought it over for several hours, her proposition, staring down the big, obvious question: What Should I Do?

Reply? Or, Delete?

I...