The Weekend Break

Three Days of Hell

The alarm clock went off on Monday morning and the first thing I thought about was you. Taking a weekend off from each other has to be one of the dumbest ideas I ever came up with. Sure, I woke up with my cock harder than piece of lead, something that I haven't experienced in a few days, so maybe it was for the better.

But not seeing you on-line, not reading any PMs or chats with you, and not hearing your voice for two whole days was nearly too much to handle!

The first thing I did was grab my phone and check messages.

NOPE!

No good morning messages. No new Gmails. No PMs at Facebook either.

"Oh well," I think to myself, "maybe she was as tired as I was on Sunday night, and turned in early?"

While I'm showering I'm wondering if you got online at all this weekend. Did she see my Good Night/Good Morning PM? Did she see the 2-3 Facebook PMs I sent? Did she get a chance to read and enjoy the Close Shave story waiting for her in her Gmail account?

The anticipation is killing my, almost as much as the yearning between my legs, as my cock twitches under the steaming spray of the shower. I've already jerked off thinking about you on Saturday and Sunday, so I'm saving myself on the outside chance that we get an opportunity to chat at work today.

Don't get me wrong. It's not all just about the naughty talk and the online sex. I love hearing about your day, your dreams, your concerns. But at this minute, the only thoughts that keep running through my head are the images from our stories, my tongue buried in your ass, your glistening pink parts protruding from between your legs as you lean forward on your forearms, the soft touch of your lips on my cock.

I'm at my desk by 8:15am, but that's not how I tell time any loner. Since I met you, I immediately convert everything into PST hours. "Shit," I say to myself surprisingly out loud, "it's only 5:15am there. I'd better try to get some work done before she gets up and gets online!"

What time does she get up anyway? 7:00am? 8:00am? Later?

I'm sure too that she doesn't roll out of bed and run to her computer to see what I'm up to anyway. Does she even wonder about that at all?

I figure I won't catch you online much before 11:30am (my time) so I'm forcing myself to get some work done, all the while looking at the clock ticking in the lower right corner of my PC.

I've got Facebook and Gmail open, like three huge fishing nets trying to snag the elusive Simone-fish if she happens to come wiggling by my trawler!

It's really hard to concentrate on work, so I jump into Gmail and start reviewing some of our past chat transcripts and emails. This of course, is like pouring gasoline on the already raging fire I have burning in between my legs.

I'm reading stories about cucumbers and corn cobs, while stroking my self under my pants. I'm re-reading Friday's chat transcript, and actually have to put my hand inside my pants at the point where I read about my pee running down you back. God, I want to share my sweet cream with you, but if you don't show up soon, I just may have to waste a perfectly good load of cum down the men's room toilet!

But if she can be strong and stay offline all weekend, I can be strong enough to hold out and wait for her to log in. I just hope nobody bumps into me, because in this state, I'm bound to make a huge stain on the front of my suit pants. Better cut it out with the story and chat transcript review, and try to get some work done.

After taking care of a few issues, I look up and it's almost noon. That's bad, in that there hasn't been as much as a nibble from Simone all morning (concentrate man!) but it's good because I'll run out and get lunch. This will help distract me for about a half hour, and hopefully she'll be there to chat with as I eat at my desk.

Killed about 45 minutes driving to the grocery store to make a salad at their salad bar, and pick up some fruit and stuff for the week. Got back to my desk and check the usual sites.

Still no sign of Simone.

I pretend to care about the other status updates on Facebook as I read through them while I eat my lunch, hoping to see that New Message notification icon activate. A couple of periodic checks of Gmail later, and my lunch is gone.

My eyes start scanning the subject lines of the messages in my Gmail account... "I'll be bucking my swollen cunt on your face", "Taught me how to enjoy peeing", "Juice on my clit" and I know it's going to be a very long day.

It's actually a slow day at work, and there doesn't seem to be any indication that you'll be online anytime soon, so I close my office door and return to my desk, opening my pants and pulling them down just a tad before sitting back in my office chair.

I double-click on "Could my pussy ride your face?" and start readying, while gently stroking my growing cock. It's a short story but it jumps right off the page, as you are rubbing your ass can cunt on my nose and chin, using my face to masturbate yourself to orgasm. I'm daydreaming that my hand is your tongue and lips, as I'm reading your words about how you "love the look of my swollen cock, especially the head."

I've never had a woman talk so descriptively and directly about my private parts and how much they mean to her, and reading your words fills my body and mind with an intoxicating does of sexual energy.

The "Pussy ride" story ends quickly, with a request for me to finish the story. I honestly can't remember if I eve did, but that's not important right now. I'm sitting in my office in the middle of the word day jerking myself off in my office chair, thinking about you, which is only made more exciting by the fact that someone could knock on my door at any time.

I'm very hard and close to cumming, so I need another story to take me home, and I know exactly the one that I want to read. I've read it about a 20 times already, as it's one of my favorites. I move my mouse down my in-box and click the title "Standing and so swollen/Perfect Position" and slide forward in my chair, so my left hand can probe at my asshole while my right had has a firm grip on my cock.

I swear I can visualize the entire scene from your extremely descriptive message. The height of the desk. The unused bar stool. The curvature of your sweet ass as your back arches and pushes it toward the ceiling. Your puffy and moist pussy lips sticking out from between your legs, and you hand gently rubbing your clit as you read my words on your laptop screen.

I'm rubbing pretty quick now, but reading as slow as I can, savoring each word like it was beluga caviar, and thinking about what made you choose each word and phrase, wondering if you knew exactly the titillating effect that they would have on me.

I read these words and feel the familiar twitch in my cock, knowing that I will be coming any moment now...."and some slow fucking in my pussy while you slowly push your cock into me and slowly draw it back out to see how much more of my juice is on your cock, but incredibly slowly, just like slow motion while at the same time you have a little toy that you are playing with in my ass. Sometimes you are enjoying the toy so much that you withdraw you cock completely move slightly to one side of me to play with my asshole."

I can see it, all unfolding, vividly in my mind. My finger is your tongue as it touches my asshole. My hand is your pussy.....no.....I'm squeezing so tight that it must be your ass, and I am as close to physically being with you as we'll ever get.

In the next part of the story, you say that I lean forward and whisper something in your ear. GOD I LOVE IT WHEN YOU QUOTE ME IN YOUR STORIES! It makes the action seem so real, so vivid, like I'm actually there ramming myself into your ass.

I read "Simone, arch your back please, Simone arch your back now" and that sends me over the edge. Thick ropes of my cream are jumping from the end of my cock and hitting the back of the leg well under my desk. I'm shooting so far and so much, that I'm not worried about any dribbling onto my suit pants, although I look down just to be sure. My cock is softening in my hand now, and a small puddle is collecting right under my chair.

I grab some Kleenex from my desk drawer and clean myself up, and put my fuckstick back in my pants to sleep for the afternoon. I then grab a few more tissue and clean up the mess I made under the desk, actually feeling a little proud about the amount there is to clean up.

It's about 2:00pm now, and I'm really spent for the day. I've got a lot a lot of work to do, as it's piling up on my desk and in my email in box.

But even though I just orgasamed, and have almost 3 hours left to the work day, my mind can only think of one thing.

"I wonder if Simone will check in with me before I the end of the day?"

Yea, it's been a long couple of days, for sure.