I sent him:
Me:
How hard are you right now?
I stared at the screen, feeling my heart flutter in my chest as he typed out his reply.
DoriNYC:
You’ve turned me into Pavlov’s dog.
DoriNYC:
Every time my phone buzzes, I get hard.
Me:
Ah. So he IS trainable.
DoriNYC:
In the right hands.
I opened the camera app on my phone. I rested a hand on my chest, adjusted the camera, and snapped a picture. The picture showed me from the neck down. I was in a thin night shirt and the neck went down low enough that it exposed the swell of my breasts.
I sent him the picture and replied:
Me:
These hands?
A lengthy pause, before he sent back:
DoriNYC:
Those will do.
DoriNYC:
Question.
Me:
Go ahead.
DoriNYC:
What’s your comfort level with dirty talk?
Me:
I’m comfortable with it.
DoriNYC:
I enjoy it. Immensely. The written word is the height of erotic expression, in my opinion.
Me:
