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Drying my hair in the bathroom, I heard my familiar Rammstein ringtone announcing I'd received a Whatsapp message. Wondering whether I should take a look, or wait until I finished getting ready, I continued waving the hair dryer around my head, feeling the super-heated air wafting through my luxurious locks.

"Not bad," I muttered to myself while critically studying my reflection in the mirror. "No, not bad at all," which was the best I could expect, considering the hectic week I’d just had." Despite all the stress involved, I’d come out of it relatively unscathed. "Could be worse," I concluded while inspecting the shallow bags under my eyes.

Of course, no-one looks their best without makeup, or with long wet hair being blown all over the place by a hair dryer that has itself confused with a jet engine, but it's all part of the transformation process women undergo for a night on the town.

And part of that ritual is choosing which outfit to wear. The current baggy t-shirt was so old and stretched, it's always falling away from one or the other shoulders, and is only suitable for around the house. And the frumpy cotton panties that would have done my grandmother proud, the less said about them the better. But suffice to say, they wouldn't get any man's blood boiling.

My mobile phone sounded again, and unable to contain my piqued curiosity any longer, I interrupted what I was doing and crossed the hallway to my bedroom. The phone was charging because I was going out. It was a Friday after all, and I wanted to make sure it had enough juice to last the whole evening. As I picked it up, Rammstein once again blared from the speaker, almost making me jump.

While my heart settled back into its normal rhythm, I unlocked the screen and saw I had several Whatsapp messages from Victoria, an old girlfriend who'd moved to the States last year. I looked at the alarm clock and saw it was approaching lunchtime in the Big Apple.

Hello!

Anybody there?

I know you’re there. Darling, stop ignoring me!

I smiled to myself. No one could accuse Victoria of being the patient type. I quickly typed hello and pressed send.

Hi, babe, how ya doing?

She always started conversations with that question, and seldom called girlfriends by their real name. Once, I asked her why, but instead of answering, she merely shrugged her shoulders dismissively, ignoring my inquiry. Personally, I reckoned it was because she'd had so many lovers, she couldn't remember all their names and didn’t want to call out the wrong one during the heat of passion.

Not bad, Victoria! Getting ready to go out. What are you doing?

Hot date? She replied.

Also typical of her. If she didn't want to answer your nosiness, she didn't, and always deflected your query into the realms of oblivion, by responding with one of her own.

I thought about her question, or more importantly the answer to it, and came up blank. I'd worked with Colin for a couple of years now, and in all that time, I'd never realised he was interested in me. Hardly surprising, because whenever we talked, he’d never flirted, not once. He was extremely courteous, not at all like some of the other irritating machos that worked at the office, and at one point, after getting to know him, I wondered if he was gay.

However, not wanting to insult him, I never mustered the courage to ask him outright, and it was quite a surprise when I found out from another secretary, that Colin was quite a ladies’ man. Considering the way he walked, talked and looked, it probably said more about my preconceptions than his.

Nonetheless, the day before yesterday, he unexpectedly asked me to accompany him to the newest ‘Transformers’ movie, and I was so shocked by his request, I didn't have time to think of a reason not to. And when I saw him waiting anxiously for my answer, my surprise was even greater, especially when he acted like he'd won the lottery after I agreed to go with him. Seeing his reaction, I wondered if I'd made the right decision. After all, it was only an evening at the cinema, not like we had a date with destiny or anything.

Na, not really, I typed. A work colleague.

Male or female? The instant reaction made me laugh.

A man and his name is Colin.

Booorrrrinnng.

Well, they can't all be called Victoria, can they? I typed.

Three love hearts appeared on my screen.

What ya wearing?

That was a question I'd posed myself only an hour ago while taking a nice long relaxing bath. If I wore one of my shorter, sexy dresses, I might be sending a signal I didn't want to give, but at the same time, I didn't want to go dressed in something too casual. He might think I hadn’t cared about tonight’s date, something I could easily be accused of if the truth be known. In the end, I'd decided on a simple white blouse and a pair of blue trousers. I'd wear heels, the sort I wear to work, not the, ‘fuck me,’ ones I use for really hot dates.

Yeah, it wasn’t looking good for Colin!

I typed my choice to Victoria and waited for her judgment. It didn't take long.

Hmmmm, very business-like. What sort of underwear will you wear?

I smiled. Typical Victoria, that’s what she wanted to know all along. Sex was always at the forefront of her thoughts.

You know me, Vicky, I replied obstructively, using my nickname for her, knowing full well she hated it. "My name's Victoria, darling, not Vi, Vicky or Tori. Victoria, and I would advise you to remember it," she replied indignantly, the first time I addressed her as Vicky. The memory was a wry one.

Victoria. Say it, Bitch. xxx.

I smiled mischievously; she hadn’t changed at all.

Well, you of all people should know what I like, Victoria. 

A very happy smiley immediately appeared on my smartphone.

Something red or black, cheap and sexy looking but actually costs a packet.

Now it was my turn to send a happy face.

You would know, darling.

Are you wearing them now? Victoria's response was immediate. Knowing her so well, I had to think about this one. While contemplating my reply, I had to snigger, imagining her tapping her fingers on the desk while she waited.

Should I fib or tell the truth? If I lied and said yes, Victoria, would instantly ask for a selfie, and there was no way I could get changed quick enough if she did.

No, my baggy t-shirt and granny panties. I've just gotten out of the shower and ain’t ready to get dressed.

Hmmm, I'd love to watch you when you do!

I bet she would. Although Victoria could be quite particular when it came to her name, she has no shame when it came to sex. Nothing was, or is, taboo when Victoria is out to satisfy her sexual appetites. To put it bluntly, she's a slut. I should know because during the two years we shared our flat, not only did we become friends, we also became lovers, after she seduced me.

o0o

It was something that surprised me at the time, because I’d never considered myself to be a lesbian, but couldn't resist the sexual whirlwind that was Victoria, a dirty, womanising, bitch, who left no stone unturned in pursuit of the ultimate orgasm.

Except of course, when it came to men. Sorry, guys.

Unlike me, Victoria had no interest in men or their penises. She had some of the biggest dildos I'd ever seen and enjoyed burying them in every one of her open orifices, but a real live flesh and blood cock? No, thank you.

Mind you, that was the only aspect of sex in which she didn't participate. For the rest, she was all in, if you excuse the pun, during our brief time together. I don’t think there was anything we didn't try. One of her favourite pastimes was ordering me to join in with her, and her newest conquest, whenever she brought them back to the apartment for the first time.

It was funny to see the new girl's expression as I climbed into the bed, but their objections were brusquely dismissed. As Victoria intended, we would end up participating in an intense three-way, giving and receiving head, getting fucked with a huge strap-on, or scissoring each other until we came, and eventually fall asleep in a tangled web of arms and legs.

It always amazed me that none of them refused Victoria's wishes, although, when they woke up the next day, quite a few of them wore shameful expressions as they remembered what had taken place the previous evening. It was during this period that I learned almost everything there is to know about sex. What I like, don’t like, not much, by the way, what men love and dislike, surprisingly more than you’d think, and most importantly, what made Victoria tick; she could be quite demanding.

On more than a few occasions, when I came home from work, tired and knackered, she would wait for me, and after walking through the door, she would order me to strip, and I don't mean just get undressed. No, I had to give her the whole nine yards.

Pretending to hear raunchy music in my head, I would sway my hips rhythmically as strippers do. Then I'd remove my jacket, slowly, sensually, parading myself and my full figure in front of her. As the discarded garment lay in a crumpled heap on the floor, I would then start to undo the buttons on my blouse. One by one, I would loosen them, each time flashing her a tantalising glimpse of my breasts as I went.

She would stand there, sometimes naked, occasionally fully clothed, but usually in some sexy and revealing lingerie, and as I continued my performance, I'd see her body responding to the visual stimulation. As she grew more turned on, Victoria would start fondling herself, generally grabbing at her excited bosom with one hand, and stuffing the other meaningfully into her panties.

While doing my thing, I would watch Victoria's fingers rapidly slipping in and out of her steamy wet snatch, still hidden beneath the shiny silk fabric, and I swear, the top of her thighs soon began glistening from all the sweet nectar she was secreting. The atmosphere in the hallway was so thick with lust. I could not only see her arousal, I could smell it from where I was standing.

After completely undoing my blouse, I would shrug it from my shoulders, feeling the crisp cotton fabric sliding sensually down my back, before joining the abandoned jacket lying on the hard wooden floor. My nipples would be nice and hard, and clearly visible, and between my thighs, my panties were well and truly soaked. I would see her watching me, observing my excitement, and watch her lick her lips in anticipation.

"Lick them," she would order, removing whatever she was wearing to expose her magnificent breasts. Her big nipples would be sticking out towards me, and when she flicked them with her fingers and thumb, they seemed to spring upwards.

Then, obeying her command, I would free my breasts from my brassiere, and after cupping them, I would bring each hard, tight nipple to my mouth. Losing sight of her as I bent my head forward, I couldn't see what Victoria was doing, but from the moans coming from the end of the hallway, I could tell how far she was.

"Take your skirt off, darling, and finger yourself," she would order, her voice a husky whisper, while she continued frigging herself. Still swaying my hips, I would reach for the tiny zipper and release the tight waistband, allowing the loose garment to glide down my heaving body. Kicking the last of my office attire, to join the rest of my discarded clothes, I'd stand there, high heels, stockings and suspenders, and my push up bra's matching panties.

Victoria bought all my lingerie. Tough, demanding and very unpredictable, she was also very generous. After we became lovers, Victoria went through my underwear drawer with a fine tooth comb, throwing away everything unacceptable in her opinion. When I protested, she explained she wanted something sweet and sexy to look at, peel off or tear to shreds, whichever her mood dictated.

In the beginning, I wasn’t so sure about her choices, but in time I learned to appreciate the joys of wearing sexy lingerie. Apart from how feminine it made me feel, it had an unexpected bonus; Victoria wasn't the only one who got turned seeing me in raunchy underwear. The occasional boyfriend also got the chance to appreciate Victoria's choice.

"Go on, baby," she'd urge, "Play with yourself. See if we can cum at the same time." Then I would mimic her. Leaning my back against the wall, I'd splay my legs wide and move my hands between my thighs. I'd pull my gusset aside with one, and run the fingertips of the other along my labia, feeling them open up to expose my moist slit.

While using the heel of my thumb to tease my clit, having opened up my juicy slit, I would thrust a couple of fingers into my pink wetness. The distinctive squelching sounds would fill the hallway, and my moans would compete with Victoria's as we continued playing with ourselves. Sometimes, when I was feeling very horny, I'd vary things by turning around and getting down on all fours. Then looking over my shoulder, I would arch my back, and after using my copious juices as lubricant, I would shove my fingers up my back passage. That was a huge turn on for Victoria.

We would pleasure ourselves, each looking at the other, watching them perform, but neither moving from their position so that we could get close and personal; that was the rule. Sometimes, it developed into a race, neither of us daring to stop until finally, the winner began wailing and shaking, as the throes of orgasm announced their victory. Mostly though, we took our time, enjoying the intensely erotic situation we had created, until one of us couldn’t contain the powerful forces welling up inside of us.

Taut muscles and tormented expressions would be the trigger, and we would scream the building down, each shuddering violently as powerful climaxes tore through our heaving bodies. Only then was contact permitted. With cum dripping from our fingers and cunts, did we offer ourselves to each other, allowing hungry mouths to lick off the sweet nectar from sticky fingers, before finally abandoning ourselves to an evening full of uninhibited lovemaking.

Often, after such nights, I would be greeted the following day by neighbours, all sporting knowing grins and curious expressions. After treating them to a quick hello and a brief smile, I would walk away, feeling their inquisitive gaze burning into my back. Before meeting Victoria, I would have died of embarrassment, knowing the apartment buildings other inhabitants could hear me getting fucked, but since becoming her lover, I didn’t care. It was all part and parcel of our sexual adventure. Even now, thinking about our debauched antics, I still get wet.

o0o

Are you alone? I asked, sensing Victoria’s restlessness. I could feel my heartbeat skip a little faster.

Yes, I'm in my office.

I smiled remotely. No-one could see what Victoria was doing, and knowing her as I did, she was probably up to something: She always was when she contacted me.

Are you being naughty, Victoria? xxx.

The three 'See no evil, hear no evil and speak no evil,' appeared on my screen. I started to giggle when a thumbs up and a smiling devil's face flashed across my screen. Then some more text appeared.

I'm thinking about you... how you looked like when we last fucked.

o0o

I remembered it well, and my heart beat a little faster. We'd been to our local and gotten a bit drunk. We'd been chatted up by a couple of cute guys, even though we explained we were together, and to be honest, I was enjoying the attention a little too much for Victoria’s liking. After leaving the pub, the guys insisted on walking us home, despite Victoria's objections, and when we reached our apartment, she rudely said goodnight and went straight indoors.

The guy I liked wanted a good night kiss and being a bit tipsy, I agreed. He was a good kisser, and as our tongues entwined, I felt his hands moving over my body. Twenty minutes later and hugely turned on by the way he touched me, we parted company, me breathing heavily. If I’d been alone, I would have invited him inside, but with Victoria waiting upstairs for me, that wasn’t an option. So after agreeing to see each other some other time, I reluctantly entered the building.

I don’t know if Victoria had been spying on me from one of the apartment windows, but as I climbed the stairs to our front door, she suddenly appeared, in the Galleria, dressed in her lingerie, a large strap-on, and an angry expression.

Beckoning me reproachfully to come closer, I saw the shades of jealousy glittering brightly in her angry eyes. When I reached her, she said nothing. Refusing entrance to the apartment, she grabbed my arms and clamped her mouth onto mine, kissing me passionately. After that, she pushed me to my knees. "Show me, slut, show me how you wanted to suck his cock." I might have been drunk, but even if I had wanted to object, it wouldn't have made a difference.

All I can say is, everything happened in a drunken blur. I can remember worrying about the neighbours seeing me in sucking Victoria’s cock in the Galleria, but not daring to disobey her, I complied with her commands. After allowing me to enter our apartment, she went down on me in the hallway and eventually, Victoria began fucking the living daylights out of me as I lay on our kitchen table with my dress up around my hips and my legs spread wide open.

It was only afterwards, lying in bed together, that she informed me she had to return to the States. She explained her company needed her in America and requested her presence at the head office in New York Monday 8 o'clock morning.

Before the news had really sunk in, she was gone.

o0o

Are you masturbating Victoria? Smileys appeared instantaneously, accompanied by a question of her own.

Does that turn you on, lover? xxx. I smiled broadly. She knew me too well.

You know it does, bitch. xxx. She knew exactly how to press my buttons. I've got my legs on my desk, skirt scrunched up around my hips and my panties are safely tucked away in my handbag. Is that a vivid enough picture for you?"

It was, and my body responded to the raunchy images my imagination was conjuring. Beneath my baggy t-shirt, my nipples hardened and looking down; I saw the distortion caused in the soft cotton garment. I ran my hand over them, shivering with pleasure, and wanting more, I slid a hand beneath the top and began playing with my breasts. Cupping, squeezing, twirling and tweaking my tits was turning me on, and between my thighs, my panties grew wetter. Reaching between my legs, the heat and moisture emanating from my excited pussy, felt good.

The sound of Rammstein brought me back to reality.

Are you touching yourself, Andrea?

Yes. I’m picturing you between my legs, going down on me.

Ha, ha, you dirty little bitch, are you wet? xxx. Silly question.

I slipped my fingertips beneath the soaking wet piece of cloth covering my sex and rubbed my throbbing clit, still hidden deliciously beneath its small hood. With my other hand still busily pinching and twisting my nipples, I was getting all hot and bothered indeed.

I closed my eyes and thought of Victoria. Her shoulder-length hair would be falling across her beautiful face as she bent her head to my pussy. Although this was my favourite position to receive a good tongue lashing, Victoria liked it better when one I was lying on my back with her positioned on all fours above me. Why? Because in this position, she could have her cunt licked by me, while another girlfriend fucked her with a large strap-on. Actually, we both liked that.

Can you imagine me nibbling your clit?

I read the text, closed my eyes and let my fantasy run riot.

Victoria was pulling my sex apart, exposing my erotic contours so she could get at them quickly. My gaping slit was flowing unashamedly, and I shuddered every time her tongue probed deep inside me, lapping up my love juice, before sliding upwards and brushing against my swollen clitoris. When she did that, she drove me wild, and I'd have to grab her by the hair and pull her face even tighter into my cunt.”

Yes, darling, I can. Do you want me on my hands and knees?

Yes, please.

I stopped playing with myself and turned over, my iPhone lying on the bed in front of me.

Are you fingering yourself right now... In your office?

Uh hmmm. Yes, yes, yes!

It turned me on enormously knowing that Victoria, like me was getting off on our sexy chat. I could easily picture her sitting on her office chair, her soaking wet sex exposed for all to see, and at least two fingers buried knuckle deep inside herself. I wondered if her door was locked or was she taking a daring risk. I should have asked her, but it was hornier assuming anybody could just walk in on her and catch Victoria masturbating.

Knowing my ex-lover, she wouldn't care. If anyone entered unannounced, she’d probably make them wait until she had finished before acknowledging their presence; if they were still standing there. That’s one of the perks of being the boss lady, I thought happily, although I was playing loose and fast with the word 'lady.' The next message took longer to arrive.

Are you on all fours now, Andrea?

I giggled softly. Yes. I’m waiting for your next instructions. 

Okay. Take your knickers off and lower your hips. I want you to feel my tongue between your pussy lips, lapping up all that lovely honey you’re leaking.”

Without hesitation, I hooked my thumbs into my underwear and pushed them over my hips, letting them slide down my thighs, revealing my hot sex. I caught a waft of the exotic musky scent and traced my fingers along the top of my wet and sticky legs. With my granny knickers bunched around my knees, I eagerly continued exploring the moist heat between my thighs and eagerly substituted Victoria’s mouth, with my fingers.

Can you feel my tongue now? xxx.

“Of course I can, Victoria,” I mumbled as my fingers imitated her agile tongue.

Omg, yes, I’m grabbing at your hair, holding you close, grinding my cunt to your lips.

It was difficult typing with one hand, while I was concentrating on bringing myself off, but I managed.

Yes, baby, do it! Can you feel my fingers inside you? I'm getting them nice and wet because where they're going, they’ll need lubrication, hi hi, xxx.

Her words brought a smile to my face. During our brief relationship, she couldn’t keep her hands, or tongue, from my bum, and more often or not, our lovemaking would end with Victoria's strap-on buried deep in my back passage. To simulate her intention, I pulled my fingers, now completely covered in love sap, from my juicy cunt and moved them towards my puckered starfish.

I can hear your moaning, she texted, As my fingertips massage your asshole with your sweet honey, Andrea. That’s it, darling, push that cunt, into my face.

Although it was my fingers doing the massaging, it really didn't matter; my body responded in precisely the same way as if she was here, writhing beneath me, fingering my ass.

Suck my clit, Victoria; you know that drives me crazy.

I raised myself onto my knees so that both hands were now free and immediately harshly rubbed my clit. Exactly how I like it.

Wow, you're so wet, lick my fingers, Andrea, taste how turned you are. Hmmmm. xxx.

Without consciously thinking about it, I pressed my fingers against my mouth, and I opened my lips hungrily to receive them. The musky flavour tantalised my taste buds and made me want more.

I’m cleaning your fingers darling; I can smell my sex and love tasting my wetness. Let’s get to our favourite number!

Looking at my mobile as I pushed the send button, I grinned happily and waited patiently for her next text, contentedly playing with myself.

Oh fuck, darling. I can feel your hot breath on my cunt. Baby, this is so hot, I love it when we go down on each other. You turn me on so much, xxx.

Sooooo, I wasn’t the only horny one here. I guessed, probably correctly, that Victoria was busy ramming a couple of fingers inside her delicious pussy while rubbing her engorged clit violently. The mental images in my imagination were pure pornography, and I used them as an additional aphrodisiac.

Can you feel me parting your sex, tracing my fingertips along your soaking wet slit before sliding them inside you? I demanded, her fingers, via mine, doing the same to me.

Oh yesss. Stop teasing me you little bitch. Give it to me.

Victoria was never one for small talk.

I part your legs and begin kissing the inside of your luscious thighs. My kisses turn to licks as my mouth gets nearer to your steamy wet sex. I can see how aroused you are, Victoria. Your pussy is opening up to me, but maybe I’ll tease you just a little bit longer.

Although it wasn’t possible for me to do the things I was telling her in person. For myself, my imagination and my fingers more than compensated for any shortcomings.

Omg, she replied instantly. My hands are clenching the sheets, and my ass is raised off the bed as you tease me mercilessly.

I smiled wickedly reading her message. I knew exactly how she felt because Victoria had caused me to do the same thing so many times before and took my time with my response.

Softly, softly, I stroke my tongue along your soaking wet slit. The tip is hardly penetrating you, but it's enough to drive you wild. I feel you raise your hips, but I'm prepared for that and raise my head, frustrating your efforts to force my tongue into you. Unfortunately, your actions have made it much easier for me to attack your ass. To distract you I slam my face against your sex and cup your buns in my hands.

Her reply took some time to appear, but when it did, my heart beat faster.

Now your tongue is inside me, I’m grinding my pussy into your face, and I can feel your nose brush my clit, sending waves of pleasure through my body. I sense your fingers moving towards my brown rosebud, and I do the same to you.

Unknowingly, Victoria's narrative was a little late. While she was typing her reply, and anticipating her reaction, I’d reached into my bedside cabinet and pulled out my seven-inch vibrator. After giving it a couple of licks for lubrication, I’d inserted it precisely where Victoria was moving her fingers towards, figuratively speaking of course.

The sex toy was buried in my back passage and was buzzing away inside me, sending all sorts of pleasure waves rippling through my body. It made typing quite tricky, what with my concentration being continually distracted by shocks of blissful gratification.

Victoria, my tongue dives deep inside your pink wetness, tasting and drinking in your sweet love juice. My nose presses hard against your swollen clit, and I feel your body shiver uncontrollably. I'm using my fingers to rub the copious honey you’re secreting, into your tight little ass. I can hear you moaning.

Feeling very naughty, I pressed send and with impatient excitement, waited for her reply.

I’m screaming your name as your thumb presses against my ring. I had a brief mental picture of busy office workers hearing their boss shout my name, while she remained out of sight, in her office. Before that thought faded away, Victoria sent another text.

Moaning your name out loud, begging you to finish me off with your tongue.

I rubbed my clit while reading her message and pretended it was my girlfriend's fingers that were bringing me ever closer to the edge. I guessed Victoria,  in New York, was doing the same.

I lick your pussy, again and again. Wanting more, you grab my hair and pull my face tighter into your cunt. My middle finger presses against your lubricated sphincter and slips easily inside you. Your body tremors and I nibble on your engorged clit. This intense stimulation is too much for you. Of course, I couldn’t honestly know what was going on in New York, but in Amsterdam, I was closely reaching the point of no return.

Omg. Yesssssssssssssssss, fukkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk.

She wasn’t the only one. The powerful vibrator in my ass, imitating Victoria’s fingers by proxy, was really getting to me and with my own hands busily rubbing my clit and fingering pussy, I didn’t know how much longer I could keep going.

I can feel your body tightening, Victoria. I know the signs. You’re almost cumming now. Your breathing quickens, and muscles are expanding and contracting rapidly now. I replace one finger with two and feel your back passage gripping them tighter. You’re grinding your cunt harder and harder into my face, trying to get my tongue as deep into you as possible and your clit against my nose.

Almost instantaneously, Victoria’s reply lit up my smartphone's screen.

Cummingggggggggggggggggg!

In my mind, I could hear Victoria screaming, feel her holding onto me for dear life, and see her body racked by pleasure and pain, shudder uncontrollably. Her breathing comes in huge unregulated gulps as her stomach muscles contrive to contain the explosion in her loins.

That’s it, Vicky, I can taste your sweet nectar. Don’t stop, squirt it in my face, cover me with your cum, let me drink it all in. Hmmm.

Memories of Victoria bucking her hips wildly as she came all over my face, cum streaming from her cunt to flood my mouth, filled my imagination. When Victoria was so turned on, she produced so much sweet honey that I couldn’t drink it all in, and it usually flowed copiously down the insides of her thighs, my face, and neck.

Trying to keep my mouth on your cunt as you writhe in ecstasy. Your ass is squeezing my fingers as they keep moving inside you.

I was typing very distractedly as the growing sensations my body was experiencing had almost taken control of me.

Suddenly my body cramped up and my silken tunnel filled with cream. My mouth opened and I screamed in orgasmic delight as my fingers were awash with cum. My breathing became erratic, and my body heaved as it fought for air. Shivers ran down my spine as the tsunami of pleasure washed over me. Cum squirted down the insides of my thighs and soaked into the bedspread, and my knickers still entangled around my knees.

I was done. 

Without removing the vibrator from my ass, I slumped on my side and closed my eyes. The sweat on my back began to chill despite the t-shirt I was wearing, and my body started shaking uncontrollably in response to such a powerful orgasm. ‘God I miss her,’ I thought bittersweetly.

Finally, I calmed down and saw another message from New York.

Omg, Andrea, that was so fucking hot. Mmmmmmm. I've cum so much; I'll have to clean this seat before the cleaners come in this evening. You’re so lovely, darling and I miss you; we must do this again. Next time I'll wear my strap-on xxx.

With trembling hands, I typed, Okay, looking forward to it, and pressed send. I lay there smiling weakly and then remembered I was getting ready for a date. I looked at the clock and saw I was already too late.

I’d have to text him an apology.