Sexting With Theresa

“I dreamed of you again last night. You were in my bed, your body wrapped around me. Your nails were digging into my shoul­ders and you moaned softly as I came into you. You were so tight and wet and hot that I thought I’d lose my mind. “

I stared at the text glowing on my iPhone screen, not quite believing what I was reading. There was a definite contrast between the passionate message and the domesticate mutterings  I was used to seeing from my husband. It beeped with another message. I pulled it up on the screen.

I wouldn’t. It was too good. I wanted to savor it. You didn’t feel the same way, hon­ey. You wanted it right then. I liked it, the way you went a little crazy. When you began to claw and plead with me, I pinned your arms above your head and held you like that. I kissed your throat, your breasts. You giggled when I ran my tongue around your hard nipples, as if I were tickling you. And then you moaned when I sucked them.

‘”Do you like that?'” I whispered. ‘”Or do you want it harder?'”

I fell back in my chair, surprised that the iPhone wasn’t smoking. “Whoa,” I whispered in something close to awe. Little tingles of excitement began to tick­le my nerves. Whoever this guy was, he was extremely articulate, not to mention seriously horny. I started deleting the messages after I read them so my husband wouldn’t somehow stumble upon them.

But who was he? There had been no name at the top of the message. I’d always hated being kept in the dark, but this was dif­ferent. It was somehow infuriating and exciting at the same time. I wondered how long the texter would keep me hanging about his identity – and I wondered just how far he’d go with this ultra-person­al version of safe sex.

The boss passed by my desk on his way to lunch. I quickly pulled my phone to my chest. I didn’t want to have to explain – or share – these wonderfully naughty electronic fantasies. I just wanted to enjoy them. A smug little smile worked its way across my face as I opened the next message.

‘”Harder, ‘” you told me. You cried out so sweetly when I used my teeth. Delicate little nips, love. I don’t want to hurt you. Can you feel how care­ful I’m being? Can you feel the plea­sure mingled with the tiny pain?”

Abruptly, I felt myself getting wet. Beneath my silk blouse, my nipples tingled as if what was being described on the screen were real­ly happening. My fingers clenched on the arms of my chair as I fought the urge to squirm. I didn’t give a fuck that this guy was breaking every rule in the book. I grinned for real, despite my escalating lust. This was a hell of a way to spend my lunch hour!

“You know, I think you like it like this. You shiver every time my mouth touches your skin. You’re sweet against my tongue. I can’t believe it… I’m getting harder every second. It’s incredible, what you do to me. Am I big enough for you? Am I inside you deep enough? That’s what I want. I want to be so deep in you that you’ll never be free of me. I want to stay inside you for­ever. Would you mind? Would you let me?”

I couldn’t stand it any longer. I typed my own message and sent it to the anony­mous address.

“Of course? You’d trust me like that? You don’t even know who I am. ”

I frowned. I didn’t want reality intrud­ing on my lovely fantasies.

“It’s only a fantasy,” I reminded my mysterious friend.

“You’re right. It’s a fantasy. But pretend it isn’t. If this were reality, would you let me?”

I fidgeted in a mixture of impatience and lust. “What?”

“Cum in your mouth?”

For a second, I could almost taste his, warm, silky sweetness against my tongue. Oh, yes, if he made love half as well as he wrote about it….”Yes.”

But he didn’t stop with that. With a small part of my mind – the part that wasn’t increasingly clouded with desire – I wondered if he’d be half so generous and insatiable in my bed as he was on my touch screen.

“I want to fuck you until I feel you start­ing to cum, and then I want to pull out and drink the sweet cream that pours from your sex.”

Oh, how I wished I were in bed with this man! My fingers shook as I tapped out, “Who are you?”

“No one special, “ he answered a moment later.

Oh, great, he had a sense of humor. I zipped out, “You’re disappointing me. Let me see you. Send me a picture.”

I could almost feel the smile in his words. “I don’t want to disappoint you. After all, I spend a lot of time thinking up ways to satisfy you.”

Then another message came in – this time with an attachment. I opened it to find the a close up picture of one of the most beautiful hard dicks I’d ever seen.

“Nice,” I muttered, and swal­lowed hard, then typed, “Do you know how to use that thing?”

“Of course. Would you like to hear my lat­est idea?”

I only hesitated a moment before I sent my “Yes.”

“I see you lying in a pile of red velvet cushions. You’re so beautiful naked. There’s just enough candlelight to show me how soft and golden the hair between your legs is, how firm your nipples are getting. They’re like hard, sweet pink berries. I’m getting hard just looking at you. But I don’t make love to you. Not yet. “

I bit my lip to keep from moaning. The scene was vivid in my mind. I could almost feel the velvet against my skin, see the candlelight flickering over a shad­owy male form. The fantasy was nice, but the moist, empty ache between my legs was all too real.

It took me a full five minutes to cor­rectly type and send one sentence. “You’re driving me crazy!”

“Funny. That’s what you say when I bring in the other men. They’re not here to hurt you, love. They’re here for your plea­sure. There are three of them. Three mouths. Three tongues. Where d0 you want them?”

I was almost past caring whether or not anyone saw me. There was a storm building inside me. I slipped one hand down to my lap and pressed lightly. I was so excited that I almost came then and there. “Anywhere. Please…”

“There are two sucking your breasts. Every so often, one of them moves up to kiss you and stroke your hair. You like that, don’t you, love? You like to be petted. The third one is between your legs, lick­ing. Their hands stroke every inch of your silky skin. They’re all hard and hot for you, but you don’t want any of them inside you, do you? You want me. “

I couldn’t stand it anymore. I sprang up from my desk just long enough to close and lock my office door. And then I was back in my chair, yanking up my short suede skirt. My hand slipped inside my lacy panties, my fingers unerringly finding the throbbing center of my plea­sure. “I want you. God, please, fuck me. Please let me come.”

The words scrolled across the screen.

“None of the other men stop what they’re doing when I wrap your legs around my waist and thrust myself into you. You’re very wet and you feel so good, like heated velvet. I’m so hard and thick, I think I’ll explode, but not yet. Not before I feel your climax turning all this sensitive softness inside you to sweet shivers around me. I’m slamming into you now. Your head’s thrashing back and forth on the pillows, and you’re screaming, little shrieks that tell me how much you want me. How much I’m pleasing you. And then I feel you stiff­en and your legs tighten around my hips, pulling me so deep. You scream again when the incredible pleasure takes you… And then it’s taking me, too. I can only hold off for a few more seconds before I let myself explode inside you….”

My whole body arched against the chair when my orgasm hit. I seemed to erupt in a swirl of incandescent colors from the inside out. I bit my lip to hold back a scream.

When I could breathe again, I typed out the words “I have to meet you.”

Just as quickly, he sent back, “Your place. Tonight at nine.”

He knew, somehow, my husband was gone for business for a few days. How?

Just before nine that night, I careful­ly touched perfume between my breasts, on the insides of my thighs, behind my knees. The fragrance mingled with the scent of my arousal. Anticipation was liv­ing thing in my blood. I had just shrugged into a silver silk robe when the doorbell rang.

He moved inside on a waft of warm autumn air as soon as I opened the door. In the frail yellow illumination from the porch, he was a tall, dark, shadowy figure. Raw sex appeal radiated from him like a different kind of light.

I had just enough time to see the heat in his brown eyes before he hauled me against him and his mouth came down hungrily on mine. His erection pressed demandingly against my thigh. I was instantly drunk on his dark, male taste, his scent.

Without breaking the kiss, he kicked the door shut and carried me into the living room. The down comforter I’d placed on the floor in front of the crack­ling fire was soft under me. The silver robe was off me in seconds.

His callused hands moved, spreading tingles of pleasure over my soft skin. His strong fingers molded my flesh, taking obvious pleasure in my slender but wom­anly body. Then his lips, feeling like fire against my heated skin, flickered over my body, teasing, making me crazy for him.

As good as it was, it wasn’t enough. I wanted skin on skin – quickly. I stripped off his jeans and shirt, running my hands over him as I did. He was beautiful; warm and hard, deliciously muscular, with sun – bronzed skin. Dark hair dusted his chest, running in a line down his flat belly. He looked like a bronze and ebony god against the pale comforter.

With a soft, hungering sigh, I bent to worship. My tongue tantalized his nipples while my fingers raked through the curls at his groin. He groaned low in his throat when I wrapped my eager fingers around his beautiful cock. It felt like hot satin over steel and throbbed in my hand.

The hot, male taste of him went to my head. I wanted more. He growled when I slid lower and took him into my mouth. He tasted wonderfully musky, with just a tang of salt. His deep groans spurred me to new heights of desire.

After a moment, I felt him shift position without pulling away from me. Then I felt him ease my legs apart and bury his head between them. If I hadn’t been otherwise occupied, I would’ve moaned out loud. His tongue felt so good…

When we were both teetering on the brink of orgasm, he pulled away, rolled me onto my back, and thrust himself into me so hard that I screamed in instant ecstasy. He felt huge, stretching me to the limit, and there was desperation in the way he kissed me. I could taste myself like cinnamon honey on his tongue.

I clung to him, my nails digging into his arching, sweat-sheened back. I couldn’t seem to do anything but moan raggedly. He laughed low in his throat, rotating his hips, touching and satisfying every hungering spot inside me. I convulsed, climaxing hard just as he groaned and slammed himself into me one final time. His bit-back roar of utter satisfaction made me come again.

The sweat was drying on our bodies when he finally rolled us both to our sides. He was breathing like a marathon runner, but so was I. I smoothed my free hand over his sweaty, muscular chest, angled my leg over his hip to keep him inside me, and grinned up at him. “I’m impressed, with the texts, I mean.”

“I thought you would be.” His voice was a familiar baritone rumble. He kissed me. “I promised you when I married you that you’d never be bored with me.”

Bored?! He had to be kidding! I flexed my inner muscles and wriggled my hips, feeling him begin to swell inside me again. I smiled into his eyes, watching as a familiar, loving lust started to cloud the clear, deep brown. It never hurt to keep a man on his toes.

“Oh, yeah?” I taunted. “Prove it.”

~Theresa, Phildelphia


  1. I have never taken part in sexting. Mostly friends sending forwards of raunchy stuff. It does seem enticing to do that with a lover or significant other.

    Those were some steamy messages…lol *fans self*

  2. My b/f & I sext every once in a while… usually because I’ve been naughty while he’s at work and I’m in need. LOL He told me after we first started going out that he was certain he couldn’t ever get a hard on at work because he hated that place so bad. I felt the need to prove him wrong about a month or so later with some steamy raunchy sexting. He smiled and “yelled at me” saying “You did something I didn’t think could EVER happen to me at work and dammit Missy I couldn’t get it down!” LOL I loved it. As long as you’re sure the guy you’re with isn’t going to be someone to share your info (NEVER SEND PICS!!! I DON’T CARE HOW MUCH HE LOVES YOU OR YOU LOVE HIM!!!!!) it’s really quite harmless to share a little lusty talk!