Photos for my Valentine 

It is Valentine’s Day in two weeks and I have a surprise for Wes, well, surprises but I am the biggest one of them. We live in two different cities and I have come up with a way to make this year’s super special for us both. It is the first Valentine’s Day we would actually spend together, and I want everything to be perfect. When our relationship began, it was all pictures and IMs. It had to be; we live so far apart that actual visits were few and far between. We would talk for hours, chatting about our desires: skin against skin, flesh beneath nails, tensed muscles, and sweat. I love to drive him crazy…

On the 31st of January, I sent him an email at work:

I want to do something spectacular for us this Valentine’s Day.
It will be worth it, I promise.
P.S. There’ll be delivery from me everyday from tomorrow.

P.S.S. Keep the 14th open for me.

I went to the salon, had my hair shaped and highlighted, got a manicure, pedicure, facial—the works and beat my face to the gods! I wore some lingerie—white and sheer and flowing—and a pair of hot red stilettos, throwing a little naughty in with the nice.

On February 1st, he woke up to a photo of me, standing with my stockinged legs spread wide, and my ass popped up to the camera showing off the lacy panties I’d chosen. The heels accentuated my long and lean legs, and my face, turned back toward the camera, wore a smirk somewhere between come and get it, baby and you wish you could have this.

On the first day of love and sex, I give to thee…
Ps: You’ve got mail.


I sent an email with the subject, “Photos for my Valentine: 14 Days of Love & Sex,” and I bet he knew he was in for a long two weeks. There were more photos of me in what seemed like a photo log of a strip tease… Each row revealed more of my body as I gradually removed piece after piece of trimming for the photos.
“You are beautiful,” he wrote, “and your body is amazing! I’ve never wanted you more than I want you right now… ”
I’d been waiting for his reaction, so my reply went up immediately:
“Just you wait, baby. <3”
“Oh, I shouldn’t have looked at this before going to work,” he replied.
“I have an idea!” I replied, video calling him.

Over the next few days, an email thread started with attachments, most going to Drive or Drop Box links. My photos varied from day-to-day, different costumes, different poses. There was one day of nothing but different style coats with lingerie underneath. Another was leather themed, a very classic dominatrix-y look. They got a bit racier as time went on, too. One day featured about 40 images of me using different toys on myself. My favorites were the ones where I had managed to capture me at the instant of orgasm. Each evening, Wes would write me messages about the photos; what turned him on about them, which were his favorites, what he wanted to do to me in different outfits, how hard he got just thinking about what was in store for him at night. I loved the way he described in detail exactly how he wanted to touch me. The way he wants to run his fingers up those stockinged legs then tear them apart with his teeth. How he wants to ravish me, force me into the wall I was posing beside and pound hard and fast until we were both too exhausted to go on.
It was definitely a challenge to keep up the barrier I’d established, but I managed to restrict my communications to one-line teasers and photos. It seemed to make him want me all the more.

Then, on 13th, I sent a separate email with the subject, My Fantasy, with a single attachment of a bit of coiled rope in black and white and a Drop Box link. The first image showed my arms, intricately bound in elaborately tied knots. The pictures that followed showed a man’s hands, thick and rough, wrapping and tying, wrapping and tying, working toward the finished product that the first image had shown.

The sight of the man’s hands—where for other days, he had only seen me—was jarring. He scrolled quickly through the images, checking for traces of the man and how and where he touched me. Deeper into the gallery, more of the man was revealed, his arms, shoulders, back, but never his face. He collected himself and went back through the images, more slowly this time, paying attention, remembering this gallery was called, My Fantasy, and watching for the elements that made it so. There was one shot early on where I had managed to catch a look of pleasure on my face just as one of the ropes around my arm was pulled taut, and in that moment, my lover understood. He watched the expressions on my face, the tension building in my body as I sat on my knees, my legs spread wide, the most sensitive parts of myself exposed to the camera, and held fast by rope.
The last photos captured just how wet I had become, strings of thick juices running down my legs, and he thought of how he wanted to be there with me in that pleasure. How he wanted his tongue between my legs, tasting and swallowing every drop that escaped me. How he wanted to feel his dick, harder than ever, gliding into me with ease. He wanted to take me like that, my body immobilized, feeling me strain against the ropes as he thrust.


I let myself into Wes’ apartment and slipped under the covers beside him, wrapping my arms around his waist and breathing in his smell. He woke slowly, slightly disoriented, going from sleepy to alarm to shock to surprise that I was next to him.
“I know” I chuckled
“How did you…”
“I knowwwww” I laughed
“When did you land?”
“An hour ago.”
“I could have picked you up.”
“The hassle, coming by taxi, it was totally worth seeing your face when you woke to the sight of me.”
“Come here.”
He pulls me closer and kisses me till I melt into his embrace..

* * * * *

I wake up to a note beside me:

Errands, back home soon.

* * * * *

I wake again to the feel of something sweet-smelling brushing my naked breasts. I open my eyes to see Wes run a rose across my nipple.
“You look so peaceful and fucking sexy sleeping. You turn me on so much, You know that?”, he said.
“I enjoyed my presents and the build up but today, today is your day. Today is all about you.”

I spring out of bed, shedding my knickers, kissing him and rubbing my pussy against his hard on, rubbing, pushing, conveying my need, already wet for him. He picks me up and backs me up against the wall, hoisting me up into the air and impales my waiting pussy on his stiffened dick. Not waiting for me to settle, he thrusts his lust laden dick deep into my pussy and thrusts again and again, his desire for me evident in the power of his fuck. He gyrates his hip, sending his dick into me in a circular motion around my walls; touching all the erogenous zones that lay within, sending me into a realm of pleasure that was sure to bring me to climax.
He withdraws just as quickly as he entered, placing me on my feet again and brushes against my nipples with his hands, causing little sounds of pleasure to escape from deep within my throat. I shudder and moan at the sensation as I felt the wetness of his tongue, searching and prodding against my nipple; sucking in the hardness, gently gripping it with his teeth as he sucked and explored the area with his tongue.
His erect penis, glistening with my pussy juice, rubs against my wet lips, brushing my throbbing clitoris. He lays me on the bed… and enters me roughly, his dick parting my lips, penetrating the wetness within. He thrusts and thrusts into me again and again, gyrating his hip, hungry for release from his own desires, hungry for the want of my orgasm. The personal gratification that could be had in knowing that he made me, his woman, come, the self-serving high of power he gets from my pussy, knowing that he and only he could make it come like that, knowing that it would give me pleasure untold. Fucking me hard and deep, soft and sweet, sometimes shallow and sometimes just letting the tip of his dick enter and exit the opening of my pussy. The feel of his hard body against mine, his nipples against mine heightens my pleasure and I feel tingles running through my body.
He grunts and groans like a cave man, desire robbing him of speech. His strokes lengthen, increase in speed and power, he is close I could tell. His back archs, his strokes closer, only a shallow deep fuck telling me how close he is.
“Why?” he says, “do you have to be such a great fuck”,as he cums deep inside me without regret. He pulls out, cum oozing out of my spasming pussy.

He pulls me up, swatting my ass and leads me to the bathroom.

“Go shower, we have other plans.”

I emerge from the steamy shower and bump into Wes. He takes in my wet full frame; close-cropped hair, sexy curves starting at my breasts and running down to my waist, hips, ass and legs.
“I’m so glad you’re athletic.”

I giggle and walk into the bedroom to see he has laid out the first of my presents on the bed, an LBD with long see through sleeves. Next to it a black strapless bra and no panties with matching six-inch heels. My giggle is delicious as I hold the dress up against my body. I turn around to hug him, so delighted with my presents.

I finish dressing up and walk up to him, watching the look on his face as he takes in my finished look. I hold still as he fastens a pearl necklace on my neck, it fits me snugly like one of my many collars.
“Happy Valentine’s Day, baby. I have so much in store for you tonight.” He says.


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