We traded emails right after lunch.
"What time are you leaving work?"
"I don't know. Probably early."
"Having trouble concentrating today, darling?"
Well, fuck yes, since I was locked up in a stupid chastity cage, dressed in lingerie, thinking every second about her "date" or "thing" all of which she knew and, right or wrong, bless her, was doing to toy with me, to tease me, to thrill me.
"A little. Will I see you?"
"No, I'm meeting him straight from work. I brought clothes to change."
She knew...of course she knew what I was going to email back. The words practically typed themselves. I would have asked it, "date" or "thing" or not, if for no other reason than I was a fashion whore.
"What are you going to wear?"
I did not get a response right away.
"You love getting teased, don't you Sara :) Well, that black dress I got at Nordstrom, the one with the lace top and, I feel like blushing, but that cute basque I have, the black one with the garter straps."
Um, that would be this dress:
And this fucking lingerie:
And yes, that made my own clit swell to the absolute confines of the stupid cage.
"Jesus, Emily," I wrote back after several minutes of heavy breathing.
"I know, Sara, I know :) I want you thinking about me all day now, lover. And all evening, too. And sitting at my house waiting for me come home wondering if I've been naughty or nice."
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