Short Story: My Email Seductress

  “How do you like to imagine me?”
     I take a moment to ponder her question, hand hovering over the keyboard. I’m not sure what to write. How do I picture her?
     Reclining in my chair I close my eyes and allow her image to flood my mind; slender figure, pale skin, dazzling auburn hair that spills over her shoulders in fiery waves. I see a complete image, head to toe. Strange that, when the pictures she’s sent offer no more than mere glimpses.
     My cock stirs, I’m getting aroused. I always do when I think of her. The heat in my groin intensifies rapidly making me smile. I like it when that happens. I force my mind to sharpen her image bringing her to life beside me. How I wish it were so.
     “Come on shy-boy, talk to me. Do I still turn you on?”
     Alert again I snort with amusement as I read her message. Turn me on? Just a bit! I give my cock a firm stroke. It’s almost fully erect. Whenever she emails my dick’s reaction forces me to find somewhere quiet, undo my trousers and give in to my lust. I can’t help myself. She’s my email seductress, my dirty little secret and I’m addicted to her.
     “Baby, why so quiet? Tell me what you see when you think of me.”
     I draw a breath.“I see your beauty,” I type.
     No, wait, I can’t put that. She wants something real not fluffy complements. My darling slut doesn’t respond to niceties, she likes details, truths. I bite my lip, composing a new reply.
     “My dear I confess, when I think of you I see you from the feet up.”
     Oh God that sounds weird, I can’t put that either. Delete! I watch the words melting away disappearing into the ether.
     Maybe I should have left them? I’ve told her about my fetish, she knows I like to picture her wearing leather ankle boots. Soft black leather with kitten heel, eyelets and laces, old fashioned, beautiful. I smile as the image swims before me clear as day. Petite booted feet with the laces tied tightly then wrapped around the ankles, binding them.
     My cock twitches forcing me to give it another stroke. I ease back my foreskin as a tiny drop of pre-cum oozes from the tip.
     “Oh yes…”
     I need to keep going, I want more of her. Letting my imagination fly I draw my eyes away from her feet to her shapely legs, picturing them enveloped in gossamer-thin black stockings. The shiny nylon shimmers as she moves whilst the lacy tops cling to her thighs. They’re held in place by suspenders which hug her curvaceous hips. The delicate suspender belt is black with tiny pink bows, a girly touch befitting a woman blessed with both sexiness and sensitivity.
     Black lacy knickers nestle beneath the belt. Dangerously skimpy they conceal her sex sufficiently to keep me guessing about the treasures within.
     I exhale deeply, memories making my cock throb against my sweating palm; I’ve seen her dressed that way, a selfie of her thighs and arse decked out in that exact attire. I adore that photo and keep it hidden in a file marked ‘stuff’, password protected of course.
     “I’ll reward you…”
     Oh will she? That’s done it! I’m fully pumped, hard as rock. How does she do that to me?
     I can’t send an answer, she’ll have to wait.
     Hand stroking faster, I return to my fantasy. I see her standing before me, naked from the waist up, gorgeous breasts exposed. Her eyes cast a spell on me, holding me captive as she touches her nipples, pulling at them, tormenting me as she teases herself.
     My balls ache. I need release. My email seductress, my wanton slut, is after my very soul.
     Well, she can have it. I take great pleasure from seeking her out, finding time alone with her to drink in her delicious messages undisturbed. I’m her helpless slave, inextricably drawn to her and she’s devoted to me.
     The words she writes are for me alone, each phrase designed to please, each word to stir. She’s the perfect tease, the perfect fuck and my cock is always hard for her.
     My poor cock’s pulsating now, demanding attention. I need to give in. Oh baby girl, my sweet angel, you’re going to make me cum, again - your sordid words, wicked promises, all those intimate details written for me. God I need to fuck you!
     Cock firmly gripped in my right hand I let rip, hand flying. Stroke after stroke I feel you with me - your hand tugging my rigid shaft, your lips kissing my neck, your perfume filling my nostrils.
     “Oh baby, baby…”
     How I long to feel your soft wet lips upon my mouth, hear your ragged breathing and groans of want. What I’d give to feel the tug of fingers tangled in my hair or to hear your voice softly whispering my name as my climax builds.
     And what I want more than anything is to bury my cock deep inside you, sinking my length all the way to the root. I’d feel you clench, cunt muscles gripping, squeezing, stroking…“urrrrgghhh!”
     My hand races, urgently, frantically pulling. I turn my head as I lose control spilling my seed in one long spurt, flooding my hand. I see the white cream upon my skin, feel its warmth and yet in my mind I’m giving it to you - my sweet, perfect seductress.
     “Are you still there my darling?”
     Breathing hard, hand trembling I manage to type a reply. “I’m here, don’t go. I have a question for you this time.”
     “Ok, I’ll answer anything.”
     I wonder about that…chuckling I type,“How do you like to imagine me?”