Instant Gratification

         He repeated himself, divulging yet again, his preference for white cotton panties.
         Sophie closed her eyes and savored the shiver only his words could give her. Her fingers rested on the keys of her laptop, speechless.
         She opened her eyes to the glow of her computer screen to watch his next question flash before her, “What color panties are you wearing right now?”
         Sophie smiled and dipped her right hand below her desk and between her legs. She smiled as she felt the smoothness of the cotton against the pads of her fingers. She imagined he would love to know about the wetness he started there but decided she’d save that little jewel for later.
         “White as the driven snow,” was Sophie’s reply, the soft tick of her fingers on the keys echoed in the late hour.
         Sophie suspected it was his turn to shiver and imagined him sitting in front of his computer, hundreds of miles away, savoring the tension straining at his pants.
         “I could tell you what I’d like to drive right about now…”
         Sophie grinned. She had waited all day for this kind of banter. There was no one more fun to talk to. It wasn’t like the finish-each-others-sentences type connection. It was something else entirely. It also was like a drug and she was shamelessly addicted.
         “Show me something to take to bed with me tonight?”
         Sophie smiled as she opened a folder she kept just for these special requests. She scrolled down the thumbnails and chose a photo she took herself of a close up shot of her left hand down the front of her white, cotton boy shorts. It exposed just enough of her hair line to make him want more. The garnet of her poison ring on her ring finger contrasted nicely against the white of her panties.          The photo was taken in his style, the hide and seek, the temptation, the disappointment - he liked to yearn. Deep down, Sophie believed he just might enjoy the disappointment more than anything else.
         It was for this reason she knew that when he asked for more tonight, she would deny him. He wouldn’t put up a big fight because he wanted her to dance with him like this. It was this back and forth motion he found comforting. They had been doing it since they were kids.
         She hit send and waited for him to open the file. As he was opening her small token of affection, he sent her an mp3 file that automatically began to play, “… and when you get home you can tie me to the Murphy bed lets do all the things you said…”
         “I like. More please,” was his response.
         “Goodnight, my sick and twisted love,” was hers.
         He sent a blushing smilie and then, “Goodnight, Princess.”
         “Don’t ever let that fucking catch on. You tell anyone I let you get away with calling me that and I’ll have your still beating heart in my hands.”
         “You already do, Princess.”
         And with that he logged off.
         “Bastard,” Sophie said in the dark of her empty room.