After our last meet Mr and Mrs x had told me they wanted to fulfil a couple more things on their wish list...

It was a random workday, mid-week. I was alone in my office at home. I received a text message from them. “Time for some dares? Tell us what you want? Talk to us?”

I was immediately hard; we’d spoken about this. Imagination is half the fun. Heart pounding, I rang Mrs x’s mobile.

“You’ll never guess where we are,” she whispered.

“You’d better tell me, is it somewhere private?”

“Not really. We’re at the library, needed to make an A3 photocopy of something. We’re in a corner out of sight…” She giggled and said, “We’re feeling naughty”

I knew what this was about.

“Get Mr x to slip a finger inside you, get him to take a picture, show me how wet you are?” I said breathlessly.

An email arrived about two minutes later. Mr x’s hand, thumb and middle finger apart just a little, milky wet between.

Mrs x still on her mobile breathed, “Did you like that? I can’t believe we are doing this… ask us something else.”

“What are you wearing?” I asked.

She whispered, “Business stuff, white blouse, short-ish skirt, stockings, flat shoes.”

“Get Mr x to unbutton your blouse a bit, I need to see his thumb and finger around a nipple, show me.”

She giggled. “Hang on, someone walking past…”, there was some rustling, “…you won’t believe how turned on I am, Mr x is sending you another photo.”

I got the email, a close up of Mrs X very erect nipple between Mr X’s fingers. I was rock hard now.

I said, “Take your kickers off, Mr X can put them in his pocket or something.”

She stifled a laugh, “Are you crazy…someone might see… let me see what Mr x says…”

There was a lot of rustling, then she said, “Ok, you asked for it. Have a look.”

Mr x sent another email. Attached was a picture. Mrs x’s black panties in his hand, a distinct wet patch at the crotch.

“How turned on are you,” she breathed.

“Very!” I replied.

“We’re on the move,” she said, “We’ll ring you back, don’t go anywhere.”

The line went dead.

Five minutes passed. My phone rang again. “Mr X is going to send you something, we stopped in the stairwell on the way out of the library.”

An email came in with two attachments. The first picture was Mrs X, sat on the windowsill on a landing in the stairwell, her skirt hitched up, pussy exposed. The second was a close up of her pussy. Fingers holding back her puffy lips, you could see how wet she was.

“Did you see how wet I am,” see said voice breathy in my ear, “I am so turned on.”

“Then I think Mr x needs to fuck you,” I said.

I think they were in the car now. Above the road noise I heard her say to Mr X, “He says you need to fuck me...”

She said to me, “I’ve got a finger in my pussy, tell me how you want us to fuck?”

“Slowly, you’re so wet I think he needs to taste you before anything else. Are you on your way home?”

“Yes, if Mr x doesn’t crash the car first. I’m not sure I can wait…”

“As soon as you get in, go to your conservatory, take everything off. You’re to sit legs apart knees up on the sofa, tell him he needs to kneel down between your legs and use his tongue on you. Send me a picture when he makes you cum. I need to see your pussy.”

“God...” she gasped into the phone, “I think I’m going to cum before we even get there.”

“No you aren’t” I reassured her, “your going to have the orgasm of your life soon, just hang on for it.”

She was breathing rapidly down the phone now, “I know I will, I am just so turned on like you wouldn’t believe.”

“Believe me I can picture you!” I said. “How far to go now?”

“Not far.” She whispered.

“Ok, hang on to it, ring me when you’ve on the sofa, I want to listen as Mr x makes you cum.”

“God you are too much…” she groaned, “… I am so wet, I am going to have to clean the bloody car seat after this.”

I laughed, “Ring me soon..”