Subject matter is sexting and role play, don’t get fired for reading it at work. 
So I decided to do something rather bold last week. Totally out of character. And I’ll warn you, it’s a fairly morally questionable situation (though not really, I guess… it is role play). Some might find it a bit too taboo for their taste. You can change the characters any way you want… cheerleader and quarterback at a house party, glamorous actress and tall dark and handsome suitor, ditzy college student and kinky billionaire (lol), whatever. You kinda want to get out of your comfort zone, so that it’s something special. If you’re usually submissive, kick in a little (or a lot) of slutty bitch. If you’re usually pretty bold, kick in a little girly sheepishness. I picked this particular role because I read it somewhere, and it sounded like it’d be fun and kinda wrong, hah. Cheating, but not really cheating. The dopamine rush without the Other Person. Great taste without the calories! And I think he liked it because it gave him an opportunity to be a total asshole.
I’ve had an app on my phone for about a month now. Pinger TextFree. It’s basically a new phone number for texting, though you can buy minutes to use it for VoIP calls. So I’ve got a new secret number, and I’m feeling saucy. Google Voice would also work for this, if you don’t already use it. Or you could just change your name in his phone to something else.
Thursday night I add the number to his phone while he was in the bathroom, under an assumed name, “Melissa”.
Friday morning I gather my courage, wondering if he’ll go for this. It might strike a nerve, considering his past, but I try it anyway.
Melissa: “Hey there, sexy man. I programmed my new number into your phone. Don’t tell your wifey. “
For a few moments, I’m in suspense. I hope he gets what I’m doing. And I hope he doesn’t have any friends named Melissa. 
Him: “I’ll keep this between the two of us.”
So he’s decided to play along. My heart is racing a little bit. I decide to get straight to the point.
Melissa: “I can send pics from my phone. Can you hide them somehow so your wife doesn’t suspect? I’ve been thinking about you all day.”
Him: “Funny you should ask. I was just working on hiding some bondage photos of some hot slut I tied up earlier this week.”
A few nights ago, he made a rather pretty rope ladder of my arms, and I asked him to take a pic. His reference made me giggle. Throwing in references like that keeps it a little silly.
Melissa: “Oh, so you’ve got other sluts then? Haha… cocky bastard.”
Him: “I like to keep my options open.”
Like I said, I think he enjoyed having a reason to be an asshole. I step it up and send him some pics…
Melissa: “Hmm, maybe after your wife leaves for the gym tonight, I could come over wearing something like this, and let you play with these?”
Him: “You pass, I guess.”
Here’s where I get uncomfortable sharing this… I internalized the role I was playing, and got a little crazier than I usually would. Even typing this out is making me blush. And I’m not even typing out the really hot parts.
Melissa: “Can I get a pic? I want to see the cock I’ll be sucking later.”
He did send a pic, but I didn’t get it, unfortunately. Something wrong with the app.
Him: “Sucking? You can do better than that.”
Oh jeez, what would a carousel riding slut say?
Melissa: “I’m gonna bend over and let you pound my cunt as hard as you want, and come wherever you want.”
My heart is racing. The Good Girl has left the building.
Him: “Close. You’re smart, because that is what I’m gonna do to you.”
It got more graphic from there. We were both having fun. A few references to ourselves thrown in like above. So I started fleshing out my character.
Melissa: “I’m gonna go to the office bathroom, take my panties off, and touch myself while I think about you.”
Him: “Office? A working woman? Good. I’ll work you over tonight while my wife’s working out.”
Melissa: “Yeah, I work downtown. I wish you were here to fuck me in the bathroom.”
A little more back-and-forth. I’m pretty sure neither of us were getting any work done today, lol.
Him: “Come over about 8ish. If the wife is back from her workout, I’ll send her out for groceries or something.”
Melissa: “I can do that. We may have to be quick about it then, that’s pretty late. Wouldn’t want your wife to suspect anything.”
Him: “She doesn’t suspect a thing. She’s completely wrapped around my little finger.”
Melissa: “I bet she is. 
“
We got back on the subject of some kinky stuff, and Melissa’s husband… again, what would a hypergamous bitch do?
Him: “But what if your husband sees the bruises?”
Melissa: “I can make up a story about the bruises. He won’t suspect a thing. He thinks I’m working late tonight. I even got a girlfriend to vouch for me.”
Yada yada, we wind down a little bit. When he gets home, I’ve got dinner going. I tell him I’m not feeling all that great, and could I take my ipad somewhere and have some alone time? He said sure, told me not to come home till bedtime (9:30) so I could write. I went to the bedroom, put on the lingerie I’d been wearing for the pictures, and covered it up with jeans and a baggy button-up shirt. I packed my purse with makeup, hairbrush, and hair accessories.
I gave him a kiss before I left, and he gave me a little wink. As he turned around, I grabbed my trench coat.
To Be Continued…
