The Novelists Ch. 01: On Sunday

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Alan & Maddie face a week of separation and denial.
1.4k words
4.6
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Part 1 of the 7 part series

Updated 06/11/2023
Created 11/01/2022
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On Sunday, Jun 5, 2022, at 11:49 PM CET, Maddie Smithwrote:

Alan,

I'm writing this from the airplane, but you won't get this until I arrive in Paris on Monday morning--these transcontinental flights have no Wi-Fi. Are you looking forward to the week of teasing that I promised you? Silly question, of course you are! The look on your face when I told you that you would not be allowed to cum until I returned to New York--priceless darling!

Of course you could cheat, couldn't you? You could take your cock out any time you want now that I'm not home. In fact, do that for me now, darling, while you're reading this. Stop whatever you're doing, take your cock out of your pants, and stroke it until it's hard. When you've done that, when you're very hard, you may resume reading this letter.

Is your cock lovely and hard now, Alan? Of course it is! You are such an obedient man. It's really one of the things that I love about you. Now, take that hard cock--I do love your hard cock too, Alan--take it and stroke it slowly while you read the rest of the letter. If you get too close to cumming, you must stop stroking, but you must also stop reading. That's a lovely idea: this will be our rule for the rest of the trip, Alan. You may only read my letters while you're stroking your rock-hard cock. You must stop before you cum, and may only resume when you feel certain that it is safe to do so. Can you do that for me Alan?

Mmmmm Alan! The thought of you reading this letter with your cock in your hand is making me very wet darling. I'm glad the production company contract specified business class. I'm already a couple of glasses of wine in, and soon they'll be done with dinner service. Then I'll lay my seat flat, cover myself with one of those airline comforters, and touch myself while I think of you. No one will know. Except you dear, alone in New York, cock in hand, obediently waiting for my return.

Write back when you get this email, Alan and tell me how much you enjoy being teased by me.

Your loving wife,

Maddie

On Monday, Jun 6, 2022 EDT, at 10:44 AM, Alan Smithwrote:

Maddie,

I read your email when I woke up this morning, which I assume means that you've arrived safely in Paris.

I did what you asked: I took out my cock and stroked while I read. I know you like to hear the details, so I'll tell you. I used lube. I stroked slowly. My cock was very slick. I stroked until I was on the edge, then I stopped. I stopped reading too, just like you asked me to, until I calmed down. I wanted to make it through your letter without cumming. So, yes, I was obedient. I truly hate that word. Still, I guess you're right about me--I'm obedient. I did what you asked.

The part that made me stop was when I got to the part about you touching yourself on the airplane. The picture in my mind--I imagined that you were touching yourself through your panties, then at some point, that you slid your panties to the side so you could have more. Were you rubbing your clit, pushing your fingers inside you? Did you cum? I imagined that you did--hard. That maybe some guy across the aisle noticed. How could he not? My beautiful wife, hands in her pants, cumming over and over. Did you cum? I really want to know.

I didn't cum though. I stopped, got it together, calmed myself down, and now I'm writing to you. I'm hard again now having written all of this, but I'll try not to touch myself until I get your next letter.

I can't believe we have another week of this.

Love,

Alan

On Monday, Jun 6, 2022, at 10:24 PM CET, Maddie Smithwrote:

Alan,

Darling, thank you for your email and for your obedience. You are a dear who would never disobey me. Did you enjoy imagining some stranger watching me cum? You thought it was a man? What if it was a woman? Watching my face contort in pleasure. Thinking I couldn't see her watching because of that silly airline sleep mask? Of course I saw her watching, dear. My mask was ajar. When I was done, when I'd fucked myself silly on my fingers, I pulled up my mask, locked eyes with her and licked my lips. I almost licked my fingers clean for good measure but that would have been too much, don't you think, darling? She was gorgeous dear, and she kept looking over at me for the rest of the flight.

Does that turn you on? Because I suppose I could arrange to have some stranger watch me cum again--maybe back here in my room? There are certainly plenty of candidates available here in the hotel. The production company has chosen a lovely hotel to put me in--near the Tuileries, filled with the filthy rich. Trust me dear, I know how to find the filthy ones. Of course I'd never do that to you, love. Unless that's what you wanted...

No, I'm content here in my room by myself. There's a lovely bath tub here in my suite. The jet lag makes it hard to sleep Alan, so I'm going to finish this letter to you, then draw myself a bath and read a detective novel. I'm in the middle of a particularly dirty one tonight, Alan. The heroine is quite nasty, a cock-teaser. She's got some poor sap by the balls, and he'll really do anything at all for her. The crazy thing is, the more she arouses him, the more she teases, the more devoted to her he becomes.

It has me wondering, Alan, what would be willing to do for me? If I asked you to do something extremely difficult while I was away would you do it? I mean, I've already told you that you can't cum. What if I told you that you couldn't even touch yourself unless you were reading one of my letters, would you do that?

Oh dear, Alan, it's happened again. Thinking about all of the torment that I could put you through... I've made myself so aroused. My nipples are hard. If you were here, you'd see them through my camisole, poking up, demanding attention. Can you imagine that? And my panties--goodness, I'm soaking through them! I suppose I should just take them off.... there, that's better! They're gone. I really must end this email now, Alan, because I just want to touch myself and I can't really type with just one hand.

Think about what I'll be doing to myself in the bathtub Alan, and write back soon.

Love,

Maddie

On Monday, Jun 6, 2022, at 11:03 PM EDT, Alan Smithwrote:

Maddie,

Your letters are going to kill me. I mean, following your rules for reading is what's going to kill me. Your email arrived just before I left for dinner--I was going out to meet Tom for dinner to talk about the promotional plans for my next novel--so I couldn't read your email until I got home. Not if I wanted to obey your rules. (Obey. I hate that word too!) Anyway, your letter had to wait, because I wasn't going to stroke it in the cab.

So I got home--honestly I cut the night short because I wanted to get home and read your email. And I washed up and got into bed and started reading and stroking. I had to stop so many times before I got done. The woman who watched you cum--in my mind she looked like a young French actress, sexy mouth, long blonde hair. Would you really sleep with her just to make me jealous? I couldn't stop you, but please don't. I can't bear the thought of you with another.

I promise not to touch myself unless I'm reading your letters. Is it OK then that I read your last one a dozen times? Touching myself slowly, stopping when I got too close. I read it over and over until I had to put it away to keep from cumming.

Six more days. And yes, I'll do anything you ask me to do.

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