Sexting for My Husband. Fucking for Me.
Sexting with him made me come so fast, so hard. My dreams come true, all without touching me. Time for a change.
Sexting has become an Olympic level skill of mine. My husband loves it when I sext with guys. The days I do it, I often take a cold approach to him. Preoccupied. Dismissive. I masturbate and don’t close the doors. Taking care of myself while another man is on the chat has become a real addiction.
“What do you have going today?” my husband asks.
“uh-huh, yeah,” I told him glued to my phone.
“Trish? Are you listening?”
“Oh, um. Of course I always listen to you,” I say and act as if it’s killing me to set the phone down. “Can you say it again?”
I give him a sheepish look at having him ‘catch’ me.
“Today? Do you have anything planned?”
“Oh. No, nothing special. Are you going into the office today?” I ask taking the power.
“For a half day.”
“Ok, Um, which half?”
“This morning.”
“Ok, well, that will give some time to get some things done,” I said, and he looked at me funny as I cleaned up the breakfast dishes.
Moments later, he reluctantly picked up the keys and gave me a look. Usually I would already be on the computer, chatting, giggling.
“You’re not on the computer?” he asked.
“No, I thought I would go out. Get some other things done. It’s a nice day,” I said and pulled him close, gave him a kiss and gave his cock a squeeze. “Have a good time at the office. I have a surprise when you get home. For our anniversary.”
“Like dinner?”
“It’s a surprise.”
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