Sexting

This exchange of messages between husband (in italics) and wife was found on an unlocked cell phone left on an airplane. Someone may have burned their thumbs creating this:

W—Are you there?

H—Yes.

W—What are you doing?

H—Sitting in SBUX. I should be working on the novel but I'm blocked.

W—So tell me a dirty story. You never seem to block on those. :)

Maybe it will get your juices going.

H—You just want to get your juices going.

W—:)

H—I think you need to help me with the story. I will tell a part and then you tell the next part.

W—Okay. You start.

H—Okay. Let me think for a minute.

W—Are you still there?

H—Yes it just takes a minute to shift from a murder mystery to fucking.

W—Hmmm. You usually seem to get in the mood for fucking pretty quickly.

H—Remember when we took a long weekend at the beach a couple of years ago?

W—Mmmm. That was a very sexy weekend. :)

H—I was thinking about when we were sitting on the café porch watching people walk by.

W—I remember. It seemed like almost everyone was wearing next to nothing and grouping a partner (or two).

H—We didn't realize they were having a perverts' convention that weekend.

W—LOL. They didn't call it a perverts' convention.

H—OK, it was some other name. I think they called it the Predators Ball.

W—Your name was better. They should have called it the Perverts Ball.

H—Hard to market. You can't put that on a poster in Boston.

W—That's why the government made the Internet. For pervert marketing.

H—I knew there was something the government had done that I approved of.

H—Pervert is such a harsh word though.

W—You are just saying that because you enjoyed yourself so much while you were sitting there watching all the barely clad perverts stroll by.

H—:)

H—I remember that you went to the ladies and left me sitting at the table for what seemed like a long time, but you made it okay when you came out and you were rubbing your soft tits against the back of my head. Lost the bra in the loo. How did that happen?

W—I lost more than the bra. Lost my panties too.

H—Your tits felt so good when you rubbed them against the back of my head. I had to reach down and adjust my shorts to make room for my cock.

W—I noticed, and I assume you realized what I was doing felt really good on my tits too. I was already horny from what had gone on in the ladies', so my nipples were rock hard and it felt awesome as I dragged them across your head.

H—But no panties? So you were nearly naked when we were in the porn shops after lunch?

W—Yup. That was hot. :)

H—So what did you do in the ladies . . . besides loosing your underwear?

W—I thought you were going to go first?

H—I'm not inspired yet and it sounds like you have a story to tell.

H—So what went on in the ladies room? What nasty thing did you do that you want to tell me about now? Or was it something you don't want me to know about?

W—Oh no. It's fine for you to know about. I was a voyeur. :)

H—Really? How nasty. What/who did you watch?

W—I was sitting in a stall and I heard two girls come in. They were jabbering and I wasn't paying much attention until all of a sudden their talking stopped, but I hadn't heard them open a stall door, so I was curious and started looking through the crack between the door to my stall and the partition for the next stall.

H—What did you see?

W—They were kissing. One girl was sitting on the counter with her legs wrapped around the other's ass while they kissed. Then the one on the counter leaned back against the mirror and began playing with the other girl's tits. After a moment the girl that was standing pulled her t-shirt off and the other girl did the same so they were both half naked and playing with each other's tits. I couldn't see exactly what they were doing, but they were moaning and crying so I figured that it was more than just a little titty mash.

H—Did that make you horny?

W—Duh!

H—LOL. Why am I not surprised?

H—Is that when you took your bra and panties off?

W—Hang on. The story gets better. Pretty soon I heard one of them say to the other, "I want to eat your pussy." The other one said, "Here?" Her friend responded, "Fuck yes, right now. I'm so fucking hot." Then they untangled themselves long enough to strip off their shorts and the blonde one hopped back up on the counter. She spread her legs wide, leaned back against the mirror, and began to play with her very wet pussy while her friend watched. Then her friend stepped between the blonde's legs and bent over to eat her pussy.

H—You could see all of this?

W—I could see a lot of it. Enough so it was making me really horny.

H—No shit?

W—No shit!

H—What did you do about it?

W—That's when I lost my bra and panties. I tucked them behind the toilet.

H—So let me get this straight: You were sitting in the stall naked watching the two lesbians go at it?

W—No! What do you think I am, a pervert? I still had my t-shirt and my dress on.

W--Of course the dress was hiked up around my waist and I had pulled the t-shirt up over my tits.

H—Whew. I am glad you clarified that point. For a while there I was afraid I had married a pervert.

W—Takes one to know one.

W—I guess I should tell you that I was also finger fucking myself and pulling on my tits with the other hand. It was so fucking sexy watching the two girls and playing with myself.

H—I think we are getting back towards pervert territory again here.

W—Hmmm. Would you settle for masturbator? : )

H—Is that a word? Shall we ask Mr. Microsoft's dictionary?

W—You're a masturbator. I've seen you.

H—That is beside the point. Anyhow, we are getting off the subject. What did the two lesbians do next?

W—I don't know if they were lesbians. Maybe they were just college girls that were experimenting.

H--We have to get past the semantics. I want the juicy details. Did they cum?

W—Oh yes. They came a couple of times each.

W—And so did I.

H—Really? You nasty girl.

W—Yes. It was so nasty watching them. I just couldn't stop myself. It felt so good.

H—How many times did you cum?

W—Just once. I was being conservative.

H—You have a strange definition of conservative. I'm not sure your mother's bridge group would agree with it.

H—So after you came, how did you get out of there?

W—I had to wait until they finished and left. I couldn't exactly get myself off, pull my dress and t-shirt down where they belonged, open the door and say, "Have a nice day." My mother raised me better than that.

H—Really? As I recall you gave me a great blowjob on our first date. Did your mother teach you how to suck cock like that?

W—Of course not, silly. I learned to suck cock in high school, just like everybody else. What do you think high school is for? Anyone who finishes high school without learning how to fuck, eat pussy, and suck cock missed the whole point of their four years in school. My mother had nothing to do with it.

H—OK. I believe your mother didn't teach you how to suck cock. That would be a pretty extreme mother-daughter sex talk.

H—But we are digressing again. Back to how you got out of the loo.

W—Somehow we always digress when we talk about sex.

H—Usually we digress into fucking.

W—True, but we can't do that via the Internet. We could digress into masturbating.

H—Not while I am sitting in Starbucks. :(

H—How did you get out of the loo?

W—OK, like I said, I had to wait for the two girls to finish fucking. First they had to eat each other sitting on the counter and then they were rolling on the floor doing something I couldn't quite see, but it must have been good based on the noises they were making. I thought they were never going to finish.

H—I bet you weren't complaining.

W—LOL. Not really. :)

W—But after awhile I began to get worried about you. I didn't want you wandering off with some of the people we had been watching walk up the street. There was definitely sex in the air. Remember the two guys wearing jock straps and holding hands?

H--No worries lass. They weren't my style.

W--How do you know? Have you ever tried it?

H—You are digressing from your story again. How did you get out?

W—Eventually we heard someone coming down the stairs so the girls grabbed their clothes and dived into a stall (or stalls, I couldn't see everything). Then I pulled my t-shirt and my dress down to where my mother would have approved of them, stepped out of the stall, and walked up the stairs past the two middle aged ladies who were coming down.

H—So did the two lesbians, I mean masturbators, see you walk out of the stall?

W—I don't know. Probably. I was so horny at that point that I really didn't care. And on the semantics, believe me they were way beyond masturbators by that time.

H—Fuck. That is quite a story. No wonder you were so horny when you finally got back to the table.

W—Did it make you horny?

H—Lets just say, it would not be socially correct for me to get up and walk out of this SBUX right now.

W—Oooh, did I make your dick hard?

H—Fuck yes. It's like a tent pole in my trousers.

W—Ooh, I like that. Reading a dirty message exchange and getting a hard-on in a SBUX. That's nasty. Your mother wouldn't approve of your conduct.

H—Nor your conduct, I might add.

H—But how about you? Are you horny, and where are you by the way?

W—I am waiting in the dentist's office, and really, do you think I could tell you a story like that without getting horny? My panties are soaked.

H—At least you have some on.

W—Hey, not nice. I always wear panties.

W—Well, almost always, except when I want to seduce you or when I want to make myself really hot before you get home or some other times, just cause. But I have at least another half hour to wait here, so lets hear a story from you.

H—OK. But first you have to take your bra and panties off.

W—In the dentist's waiting room. No way!

H—Just tell the receptionist that you need to use the ladies' room and take them off there.

W—Hmmm! Not a bad plan, but I have to leave my bra on.

H—Why? You look so hot without a bra on.

W—You know how my tits bounce when I walk around without a bra. I can't do that in the dentist's office. And our dentist is such a dirty old man. He would notice for sure.

H—Hmmm. I heard he is gay. He probably wouldn't notice at all.

W--You are just making that up. Besides I am just here for a cleaning and the hygienist really looks like one of the two girls in the washroom in the story I just told you. I guarantee you, she would notice.

H—Really? How likely is that? The same girl you spied on works for our dentist.

W—You're right it does seem unlikely, but really she looks just like the one who wanted to eat her friend's pussy.

H—Well, if it is her, she won't care if you don't have any underwear on. She already knows you are a pervert because she knows that you watched her and her friend get it on.

W—LOL. I guess that's true.

W—You know what, I am so horny I'll do it. This may be a new low in nastiness—getting your teeth cleaned with no underwear on. You better have a good story—Back in 5.

—Ten minute break in the message string—

W—I'm back.

H—It was a bit more than five minutes.

W—Don't be cranky. I got distracted.

H—Hmmmm. Why am I not surprised? What distracted you?

W—This. [attachment]

H—Hey! That's a picture of your tits!

W—You like? :)

H—Oh yeah. :) I wish I were there to suck on them.

W—Later, after I get my teeth cleaned, and you finish your chapter.

H—Chapter?

W—Your novel. Remember?

H—Oh yeah. The novel. I just got distracted by the picture of your tits.

H—What did you do with your bra and panties?

W—Oh yeah! It feels so nasty sitting here in the dentist's office with no bra or panties. All I have on besides my sandals is a short skirt and a tank top. Fuck I'm horny! :)

W—Oh, I put the bra and panties in my big purse.

H—Your nipples look as hard as rocks.

W—That happens when I get horny, which, by the way, is totally your fault.

H—Um. I wish I were there to suck on them. I would run my tongue around each tit until I got to the nipple. Then I would flick it with the end of my tongue and then pull it into my mouth and suck on it.

W—If you did that to me then I would have to respond by sucking your cock. I would get on top of you so that my tits were dragging across your chest while I licked your dick, starting at your balls and working up to the tip. Then I would swirl my tongue around the tip and then drop back down to your balls and do it all over again. All the time I would be rubbing my tits on your chest.

H—Lets see, that would put you in a position with your legs spread on either side of my head and your pussy right over my face. You know that when I find myself in that position I just have to eat your pussy. It tastes so good.

W—There's just a couple of problems. You aren't here, and if you were, we can't just strip off our clothes and dive into a 69 position in the dentist's waiting room. :(

H—Good point. Let's focus. I think I was supposed to tell you a story.

W—Right. Lets hear it.

H—Okay. Just remember that this is total fiction, so keep your green streak under control.

W—Got it. Fiction.

H—Remember when I went to London a couple of years ago to visit our company's insurance underwriters.

W—Yes. That would be before you quit that good paying job to become an author. When are we going to see the great American novel by the way?

H—Focus girl, focus. This string is about sex.

W—OK. I like you better since you quit that job anyway. It used to depress you, and then you didn't want to fuck me as often. Back to London. Very boring trip you said. I remember you said that when you got back.

H—Maybe not quite as boring as I led you to believe. Our agent in the London insurance market asked me to join him and his wife for dinner at their country home. I turned out to be quite an evening.

W—Oh really. Do tell, do tell.

W—So what did this guy's wife look like?

H—The only word I can use is "fox". She was in her early thirties. I would guess, about 5 foot 2 or 3. Short, thick, dark brown hair, big brown eyes, and a body to die for—cute little round ass, narrow waist and nice, but not oversize tits. A little smaller than yours.

W--And what did this "fox" have on?

H—When I got there she was wearing very conservative light blue knit dress that covered her from her neck to her feet.

W—So how do you know so much about what her body looks like?

H—Because the dress fit her like she had been poured into it and it was a very fine knit so, it was pretty clear that she wasn't wearing anything underneath it. It really left nothing to the imagination. I really liked the way it defined the crack between the globes of her cute little round ass.

W—That doesn't sound so conservative to me. Now you're the one having troubles with the definition of conservative.

H—OK, poor choice of words on my part.

W—So, how was dinner?

H—The cocktails on the back porch were tasty and Mrs. insurance agent was flirty. She liked to touch when she talked. Dinner including two bottles of wine was tasty and Mrs. insurance agent was playing footsy with me. Neither she or her husband had their hands on the table except for the bare minimum required to eat, and I concluded that they were fondling each other through their clothes.

W—Maybe they were just being polite and keeping their hands off the table. They were English after all.

H—I don't think so. She kept rubbing her tits on his arm and when she served various courses she managed to rub those same delicious looking tits against my shoulder.

W—Shocking! Did you jump up and demand to be driven back to London to escape this den of iniquity?

H—I thought about that option of course, but I discarded it in favor of hanging around to see just how iniquitous this den would get.

W—Why am I not surprised?

H—Because you know what a horny bastard I am and that is why you married me.

W—True, true.

W—You were always so much more fun than the other boys my mother thought I should date.

W—What happened next?

H—After dinner Felicity proposed that we adjourn to the "Retreat."

W—Wait a minute. You have got to be shitting me. Her name was Felicity?

H—Yup. That's a fact. But I was actually much more impressed with her cute little ass and her pomegranate sized tits than I was with her name.

W—Duh!

H—OK, so what was the "Retreat" like?

H—First we went down some stairs into a basement room. It wasn't a big room. Like a medium size bedroom.

W—Was there by chance a bed in it?

H—No there wasn't. Just a couple of big plush couches. There was also a swing hung from a hook in the ceiling. The kind you use for fucking. And there was a sybian machine setting in the corner.

W—What's that?

H—I thought all sex obsessed women, which I consider you to be one of, knew what a sybian machine is. Imagine if you will something that looks like a saddle that you sit on with your knees at or near the floor on either side. Near the front of the saddle there is a place where you can attach a dildo that comes in various sizes and shapes. The internal mechanics of the machine will make the attachment of choice vibrate and/or rotate with degrees of intensity controlled by the user or, if she desires, someone else. There is also a raised set of nubs just in front of the attachment that vibrate against the user's clit, again with the intensity controlled by the user or someone she hands the control box too. The penis attachments have different thicknesses and different finishes.

W—Wow. That sounds like quite the fucking machine. But you describe it so clinically.

H—Believe me you are right. As I learned later in the evening, it is a machine that can reduce a woman to a shambles. I will get back to the sybian machine later and I will do my best not to be clinical in my description of how it fucked Mrs. Insurance Agent into a quivering mass of jelly. What was really striking about the room was the artwork. There were five large black and white prints on the four walls.

W—How large?

H—Much larger than life. It was like looking at the characters on a movie screen.

W—Let me guess, this would have been an X-rated movie screen?

H—That would be correct.

W—People fucking?

H—Somewhat more sucking than fucking, but some of each.

W—Oooh. Neat!

H—You would have loved it. You love oral sex.

W—True, true. So tell me what they looked like.

H—On the wall opposite the door—the wall you see when you walk into the room—there was a picture of a fully erect large black circumcised cock. The detail was fantastic.

W—That's it? Just an erect black cock?

H—No, not quite. There was also the face of a very beautiful blonde whose tongue was extended towards the cock and there was a string of saliva, pre-cum, cum (who knows) extending from the tip of her tongue to the tip of the cock. Everything else in the frame was blurred to the point of not being anything beyond a soft grey background. It was unbelievably erotic.