The Novelists Ch. 02: On Tuesday

Ch. 2: On Tuesday

On Tuesday, Jun 7, 2022, at 10:15 PM CET, Maddie Smithwrote:

Dearest Alan,

What a day it has been! You wouldn't believe it, but the woman from the airplane (brunette, not blonde!) is staying here at the hotel. I ran into her at the bar this evening when I went down to have a cocktail before dinner. She's charming, French, based in New York. Speaks perfect English. Works in fashion. I had to have dinner with the director and screenwriter--they want to talk about the way they've adapted some of the scenes in my book--but I'm free tomorrow so I made dinner plans with her. I hope you don't mind darling?

I was delighted to hear about your arousal Alan. Are you hard right now? Of course you are--you're so obedient. I don't know why you don't like that word, dear. I love it. It makes me wet to think of you this way, serving my every whim tirelessly.

Honestly, Alan, I wonder if I could figure out how to write these emails with dictation, because I just cannot wait to touch myself again. I get so turned on imagining your hard cock in your hand. It must be getting more difficult each day, Alan, knowing how long you still have before I'll allow you to cum.

I promise you that when you do cum, it will be a good one. Mind-blowing, even. How would you like it, dear? Would you like a blowjob? A wet sloppy blowjob? Gentle nibbles on the head of your cock, then long slow strokes, my hand on your balls, squeezing gently. Wetter and wetter. Harder and harder. Faster and faster. Would you like that?

Or maybe you'd like it slow--yes, you always like it when I make it last. I could tie you up and tease you for hours. Would you like that?

Or maybe you would lose control the moment I walk through the door. Throw me down on the couch and fuck my face. You'd like that, wouldn't you dear? But you'd never have the nerve to take my head in your hands, slam your dick as far down my throat as you could. I might let you if you tried. But would you have the nerve to try?

So, dear, I have to go, because just thinking about some big strong man throat fucking me has made me a dripping wet mess. Here's what you're going to do for me: in your next email, you're going to tell me exactly how you'd like to cum when I get home. Can you do that Alan dear?

Think of me while you write dear! My hands will be in my panties...

Love,

Maddie

On Tuesday, Jun 7, 2022, at 11:55 PM, Alan Smithwrote:

Maddie,

I can't believe the way you torment me. I am basically walking around hard all the time. You say you like my hard cock? Well if you were here, you'd see my near-permanent state of arousal.

You want to hear how I'd like to cum? I mean I'm a starving man--I'll take literally anything you offer. But the blowjob variations that you describe (God that took forever to read. I had to keep stopping, and even now, my cock is dripping and throbbing.) sound amazing. Please tie me up and tease me with your mouth for hours. Please.

And Maddie, please don't fuck the woman from the airplane.

Love,

Alan

On Wednesday, Jun 8, 2022, at 5:39 PM CET, Maddie Smithwrote:

Alan,

I'm seriously disappointed by your last email. I asked you to describe our reunion sex, and that's all you can come up with? I expect your emails to arouse me. I expect you to put in the work my dear. I can't be expected to do everything, now can I?

That's all you'll get from me tonight then, dear. Send me a real email, something to make my pussy wet. If you do that, I promise you a nice little treat. Remember too that I don't have to let you cum when I get home. I could punish you instead.

Love, Maddie,

PS: Since I'm getting nothing from you, I'll have to find some way to arouse myself. Good thing I'm having dinner with Annette--the woman from the plane. I won't fuck her though, because you asked me not to. I bet I can make you change your mind though.

On Wednesday, Jun 8, 2022, at 11:55 PM EDT, Alan Smithwrote:

Maddie, dearest Maddie!

I'm sorry that my last email disappointed you. I sometimes get shy, I suppose. And you're certainly right that you can't be expected to do everything. So at the risk of displeasing you again, I think I won't write about my orgasm. Instead, I'm going to write about yours.

When you get home, I won't throw you on the couch and throat fuck you. (OK, that sounds hot, it's true, but I think you're just trying to get a rise out of me. That's just you teasing me again, isn't it?) But I do think we'll use that couch--you won't get very far before I've got you down on the couch, legs spread, pants off. I'll be between your legs, spreading you wide, leaning in to breath you in. My hands will press your knees wide and hold you there. You'll lean back, finally relaxing after your long trip, giving in to the pleasure of my tongue.

That's where we'll start. I'll make you cum as your homecoming gift, and we'll go from there. You can cum as many times as you like before we turn to my pleasure.

Love,

Alan

On Thursday, Jun 9, 2022, at 5:39 PM CET, Maddie Smithwrote:

Alan,

Now Alan darling, you're making me quite cross. If I were your editor and you submitted something as useless as that last email, I'd send it back for a rewrite without a moment's thought.

Dear, I asked you a question, and you answered a completely different question. Try again. Get it right this time or else.

-Maddie

PS: Also, what makes you think you've earned the right to spread my legs?

PPS: I had an utterly dreary day with the production team. They too don't seem to understand my writing, and are bungling the adaptation. Bit of a trend, no? Shame I can't punish them. Maybe I'll take it out on you.

On Thursday, Jun 9, 2022, at 11:55 PM EDT, Alan Smithwrote:

My Maddie,

Dear, you know that I have a hard time with sex scenes. That's really your strong suit. But you're right (as always.) I bungled the assignment. Please consider this my second draft--a re-worked submission, if you will.

You asked me how I want to cum when you get home. I told you before--it was true then and it's true now--that I get shy. Partly because I never want to ask you for anything. I don't really believe that I'm entitled to ask. But you've told me to ask, so I'll do my best.

I want it to last a long time. Although you're tormenting me from across the ocean, although I think constantly of you, of your body, of the way you look in the morning sunlight, the sun across your sleeping face, or across your bare ass--I can't get you out of my mind, and I can't help but feel that longing... Oh this sentence is a mess dear, just like you've made me a mess. I'm going to start again.

I want it to last a long time. I want the feeling of longing to stretch out. So stretch me out dear. Tie me to the bed--to our bed--and take your time. Sit across my bare chest and rub your pussy on me. Get yourself off if you want, or just simply warm yourself up on me. I will delight in the feeling of your hot sex on my skin. Turn around. Take my cock in your hands while you hover above my face. Show me what I can't have. Squeeze my balls. Hurt me a little. Or a lot.

Then stroke my cock. Go as slow or as fast as you want. Whatever you do, by then I will be moaning dear. Begging. Will that bother you, or turn you on? If you want me to beg, I will. If you want me to be quiet, I will try my best. But I will want to beg.

Stroke me until I cum my dear, then rub my seed into my belly. Spread it, let it dry. Do not release me. Leave me tied forever. I want it to last forever.

All my love,

Alan