I turn the card over, looking for any clues on the back but there is nothing there. I bite my lip, wondering. For the third day in a row, a Valentine’s Day card has found its way into my handbag somewhere between leaving home and arriving at work. It read:

Connected opposites,
push and pull,
one core longing,
merger with the other,
fused chaos looms..

I blushed reading the card, wondering who could have sent it, clearly someone attracted to me. I re-read it several times, the words etching onto my mind. I decided to have an early night; one more night before the weekend which I was dreading. Valentine’s Day fell on Saturday and I already knew it would be a depressingly long day for me. I had a movie marathon planned and reminded myself to get snacks and enough drinks to knock me out. I read my card one more time and went to bed.


My skin was warm to the touch, much warmer than normal, and my cheeks were flushed. I slowly released the straps of my chemise, revealing gorgeous breasts one at a time before letting the top slide to the floor. I ran my hands over each of my firm breasts, pinching and twiddling my nipples with thumb and forefinger. Once hard, I held my breasts with a hand under each one and moved into my lover, feeding each nipple to her in turn.

While she sucked on my breasts, I reached a hand into my knickers, teasingly playing with my pussy before shedding them also. She pulled my face closer, kissing me passionately, our bodies pressed together tightly while we kissed. Her hands deftly caressed my ass cheeks and ran up and down my spine. She pushed me onto my back into the bed and got on her hands and knees above me, clamping her mouth onto my cunt and started eating me. I pushed my tongue into her pussy and licked her hard little clit. She sucked my clit into her mouth and pushed her fingers into me gently and I could feel myself getting slick with moisture…


I awoke with a start, sweating and feeling very frustrated. I looked at the time and realized I had also overslept, no time to even get myself off. I was in a mood by the time I got to my office and could not wait for the entire day to be over. I snarled as I saw a delivery man talking to the office assistant; the Valentine’s Day presents had started coming in already. My snarl changed to surprise as I saw the assistant and delivery man head in my direction. She knocked on my door and left; I had to sign to receive my parcel.
I shut the door after he also left, staring at the box, wondering what was in it and who had sent it. There was a card again, this time it read:

Noise abounds
lusts finally overlap,
motions sporadic,
eventually uniform,
hushed moans,
juices spill

I opened the box to find the most exquisitely connected wisps of black lace and toys; a smaller card fell out, “For my minx” and I immediately knew who it was from, Annie. My face lit up with a grin and I reached for my phone which rang almost immediately.

“So did you get my delivery?”
“I did, and I love it. What are doing sending me lingerie and toys?”
“Well, a girl can only hope to make you light up, am I right?”
I blushed,
“Not really, what’s up?”
“When was the last time you had an orgasm?”

I blushed, which was silly since no one could see me. But still…
“Annie! I can’t tell you that…”
But it was all I could think about now.
I always found voices to be the most key element to my sexuality and lust; I wanted to spill ALL my secrets.

“It’s been…” I paused, listening for anticipation for the measured breathing on the other end of the line, but I got the same steady breath.
“It’s been a month since I had an orgasm.”

Even though I’d wanted to, I was still surprised to hear myself say it. Because the truth was…before the call…before Annie…I had been sitting here, lost in thoughts of last night. Lost…because in the background of every thought I’d had all day since I’d closed the door to my own little private world here in my office, beneath every sensible professional thought was the faint feeling of my soft lips, just the slightest bit wet from the long days and nights when the only hands I’d felt…were my own. And though I knew my body like no other, could indeed tease and test the edges of my own orgasms with subtle, sweet ease…there was no substitute for the feel…the surprise…of another person’s hands on me…the shock of fingers brushing my thighs.

I shivered, and her voice brought me back.

“When you came last, was it alone, or did someone else make you cum?”

I gasped. And then she continued, “I…want to…guide you. Guide your hands…tease you with your own fingers. Move your hands as if they were mine…with just the words you hear me speak…”

“Do you like to give up control?”
I wanted to say no. But I didn’t.

“Will you let me guide you?”
“And if I promise to be polite, will you promise to do exactly I say?”

“Tell me what you’re wearing.”
I swallowed. “A white blouse, a skirt…stockings.” I blushed. “Heels.”

I exhaled softly, deeply, satisfied.

“Your skirt…is it tight?”

Pause. I barely breathed.

“I want you to stand up at your desk.”

I did, slowly but without hesitation.

“Are you standing?”
“Hike it up slowly.”

My hands moved to the hem of my skirt, and I gently, slowly, evenly rolled the thin black material up, exposing more and more of my warm thighs as I did. My fingers brushed the soft lace of my knickers as my skirt rose slowly up until my hips were exposed…”

“Stop when your knickers are exposed.”

I did as I was told, feeling the gentle breeze of the air conditioning blowing cool air against my warm thighs…

“Now sit.”

I sat.

“So…your skirt is hiked up and your knickers are exposed.”
“What kind of knickers are you wearing.”
“Black. Lace.”

I let one finger tip gently brush the soft fabric, a small charge of electricity coursing up I spine as I felt the soft flesh through the thin fabric.

“Thin, see through.”
“And are your panties wet?”

I shivered a little. I wanted to give in, to her voice, this desire.

“I…” I crossed my legs and the dripping wetness of my body washed over me like a wave. I moaned, slightly, softly.

“I’m so wet. I’m always so wet. I’ve been dreaming of, of hands on me, of…”


I was quiet.

“Are your finger nails long?”

I was surprised, not at all what I’d expected, though I had no idea what to expect in all honesty. “They…aren’t too long, but they are a bit…I just got them manicured a few days ago.”

I heard one soft low laugh.

“Take one fingernail…and gently…firmly, but not too firmly…”

I waited with anticipation I could never have imagined.

“What?…” I asked breathlessly.

“Slowly scratch back and forth against the very tip of your clit through your thin panties.

Again, for a moment, I felt as if I had no idea where I was or what to do. What she was asking, it didn’t seem real. But then my hand slid slowly down between my legs. And slowly, I let the tip of my nail rest against my clit. I felt the soft pressure of my hard finger nail pressing gently against the quivering tip of my clit through my panties. I felt the small bud of my clit swelling against my finger, pulsing as if it was crying out to be touched. But only the tip of one fingernail would touch it yet. I had no idea what to expect.

And then slowly, firmly, but not too firmly…I began to scratch the very tip of my clit through the thin, soaking wet panties.

The sensation…it was like the barest tickle, just on the edge of sensation, as my fingertip moved slowly up…and down…up…and down…against my throbbing clit. At first it was a vague sense, but slowly, I felt this…warmth…heat…slowly spreading…radiating out from the centre of me and from the slight soft strokes as against my sensitive clit. Slowly, scratching…slowly…up…and down…up…and down…

“How does that make you feel?”

I tried to speak and found it took me a moment to compose myself. “Ha…I…it feels…makes me feel…”

What did I feel?

“Tell me.”


And I moaned as the still steady flick of my fingernail up and down against the tip of my quivering clit brought slight, steady convulsions out of me.

“A little faster, a little more firm,” was all she said.

With every stroke of my finger tip, with slightly more pressure pressing against my clit, I felt it began to be pulled slightly…every so slightly…up and down with each stroke of my finger tip. Up…and down…the delicious sensation as my clit struggled out from under my finger, pushing back against the gently, fluttering sensation of I movement.

Up…and down…up…and down…and I moaned.

“Faster, but no firmer.”

Now the sensation was like a buzzing, almost like the small vibrator I kept in the drawer right next to me. But this…my sense of abandon, of another woman’s will guiding the rapid flicking and fluttering of my finger against my pulsing clit…this was…this was something else entirely.

My whole body began to tremble as she said “Faster,” again.

The feeling…I almost forgot the phone, the voice, her voice. My body…I continued rapidly flicking that strong finger tip against my pussy just as she told me. I was moving so quickly now, the feeling of the vibration of my nail back and forth against the thin fabric…

Breath hissed between my teeth.

“Scratch gently, but as fast as you can.”

Electricity stole through me. I shook and sighed and lost the thought of everything but her voice…her voice…guiding my hands…her hands…teasing me…my clit…so…sensitive.


I nearly screamed.

“Now stop.”

Without my mind even feeling it, I stopped, and my whole body cried out in ecstasy and loss. I wanted to touch clit more than anything in the world. Except what I really wanted to do…was whatever she told me to do.

“How do you feel?”

“Oh God…”

She laughed softly…once.

“Now…would you like to know, what I would like you to do?”

“Yes, I do.”

“You want me to tell you again…exactly what I’d like you to do?”

“Yes, please.”

“Because following my voice, my words…felt so good, didn’t it?”


“Did you expect it to feel so good?”

I was trembling again, the soft moisture dripping down my thighs. “No, I didn’t.”

“So now you know how it feels to follow my instruction, you’re willing to trust me, and let me tell you just how to touch yourself?”

“Yes. Please tell me.” I squirmed in my seat.

“What I want you to do…”

My breath caught, held in suspension, anticipation…

“…is fix your skirt, slide it back down.”

A sinking sensation in the pit of my stomach.

“And now…I want you to go about your day.”

I was stunned. Silent. I blinked, trying to comprehend what she was saying…my body crying out to be touched…my clit…

“I want you to hang up the phone and go back to work. Don’t forget what just happened, but let it fade, just a bit-”

“I can’t-”

“Shhh…” she stopped me, but in a soothing, soft way. “You trust me?”

“I…” I was in a daze, all I could think to say was… “yes.”

“Then if I promise you that if you wait, until the next time I call, it will be worth it?”

“Wait? What do you mean wait?”

“Wait to touch yourself.”

My mind reeled.

“Wait until I call again, with more guidance, to touch yourself.”

“But I-”

“How did it feel to tease yourself like that just now?”

“God…it felt…I’ve never wanted to…more…just…”

I sensed her smiling. “So imagine…that wait…imagine…waiting…never knowing again when the next time you’ll pick up the phone and hear my voice saying…

Se inhaled deeply.

“Take one finger, and slide it deep inside your pussy…”

On instinct I did as she said and I cried out as one slender digit slipped between my lips and pressed inside of me.

“Now stop.”

I slid my hand out and whimpered.

“How did that make you feel?”

“Oh God…”

“And it felt that way why?”

I blinked, no words. And then…



“So you’ll wait for me? Hold that anticipation in your heart until I call again?”

I was torn in pieces, wanting so many conflicting things.

“You will, won’t you?”

“Yes,” I said, softly, a thousand miles away.

“And you won’t cum until you hear from me?”

I felt almost like crying. But I said,

“I won’t.”


A final, seemingly infinite pause.

“Alright then. We’ll talk soon.”

The dial tone in my ear was as if from a distant star I’d never heard of. I was lost, transfixed…had this really just happened.

I shifted slightly in my seat. The warm wetness between my thighs told me the truth.

She had been real.

I looked at the phone. Breathless…

In anticipation.


2 thoughts on “Anticipation..

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