Andrew had been messaging me for a few days now. We had started off with simple, innocent chit chat. Work related mostly. Until he sent me a picture of himself one evening. Or rather, of a damp towel wrapped around his hips. Flat tum and a massive erection underneath. Then another. With him reaching under the towel. Holding his cock in one hand. I was speechless. I stared. I recognized his tummy tattoo. I vaguely recalled him show a colleague a photo of it. Some movement behind me and I snapped shut the cover of my phone. A cleaner had pushed his trolley into my aisle. I had stopped by the local convenience for milk and fruits. Deadlines had kept me chained to my desk until well after the office, and most shops, were closed. "Hot." I managed to type as soon as had paid and I was back in my car. I couldn't breathe. A spot between my legs tingled as I started the car. On the 20 minute ride home, my phone buzzed twice more and was silent. I could hardly wait to get home and see what he'd sent back. "Want to send me zome photos?" He was drunk. "Hand down the front of your panties. Please." I read it again and closed my eyes. This was crazy. "I'm scared to." I typed... and deleted. Hubby was asleep. The house dark. I opened the door to our bedroom quietly and hung my coat up on the door hook. He barely stirred. Barefoot, I walked into the kitchen and rummaged through the fridge. Grabbed a bottle of sweet white and poured myself one. I sipped it in contemplation. Inside I was buzzing. I negotiated with myself. I wasn't cheating. It was innocent, adult fun. I would be careful not include any obvious identifiers in the photos... Crop my face out etc etc. One this was undeniable. Andrew and I definitely had some chemistry. Why not have fun with it while it lasted? Tipsy, I wandered into the guest bedroom. Closed the door shut behind me. The night was silent. Broken only by intermittent distant barking. My eardrums roared as I undressed down to my underwear. Alone. I had never done this before. I buzzed with nervousness. I lay down on the white linen. Giggled. Turned the camera on selfie mode. Reached down the front of my cotton briefs and between my slit. My pussy was incredibly slippery. My lips tingled as my fingers drew the wet back over them. I took a photo. I threw my head back and slid my fingers into my slit again. My nipples hardened. I arched my back. I snapped another shot. And another. I rubbed my juices up, over my clit. In circles. Around my inner lips and down to my warm, oozing hole. I was more turned me on than I had been in months. My breath was hot. Every muscle tense. I moaned. My hand moved faster. Fuck Andrew for doing this to me. My fingers pinched my clit. I imagined him sucking on me. His hardening cock loosening his towel to reveal itself as he got turned on. The wet, soppy noises in that silent room continued. My fingers slid easily into my cunt. Repeatedly getting wetter and wetter. Imagining his cock. My hips bucked. I was working myself into a frenzy. I didn't care if my hubby heard me. Slapping my clit with my palm while my fingers reached in and stretched my pussy out. My thighs tightened as my hand worked faster. I held my breath. I kept pulling my fingers back out. I could faintly smell my sex. I couldn't stop now even if I wanted to. I took a few more snaps and surrendered to the moment. Grabbing my nipples with the other hand. Pulling on them. I bit my lip. My hips found a rhythm. Rocked crazily in circles. I could feel the linen under me soaked with pussy juices. My butt cheeks were wet. Tingling in the cold air as I finger fucked myself. I felt my pussy contract harder. Every time I forced my fingers inside me. I closed my eyes. My pussy tightened exquisitely. Pumping out more juices. My hand was soaked. I moaned. My hips bucked of their own accord as I came. "Andrew." I whispered to the silence.