Page 6 of The Pen Pal
For you.
Yours (if you’ll have me),
Adam
P.S. If you're going to keep writing with one hand, I want a full report next time. No skipping details.
From:[email protected]
Subject: Your move, sir
You asked for a full report. So take a seat or don’t. I don’t really care if you’re standing up, pressed against a desk, or pacing your kitchen.
Let me set the scene because I’m nothing if not extra and dramatic.
It was late. I was in bed shirtless (you said you wanted details), just a pair of lace panties (pink, if you must know). I’d just read your email. Yes, the one where you said you’d distract me so badly I wouldn’t finish a sentence. You were right. I didn’t, not at first.
I reread that line—“You wouldn’t be able to finish your sentence”—and my hand was already sliding lower. I was thinking about your mouth, your hands, your voice (a deep baritone) in my ear telling me not to stop.
Two fingers, slow at first. I imagined your palm on my thigh, holding me still while you watched and made me wait.
Then I imagined you leaning in, whispering, “Come for me.”
I came thinking about your hands in my hair, on my neck, between my legs. I came thinking about the sound you’d make the first time I bit you (not just a little, for sure). That growl I so badly wanted to hear.
I didn’t even try to be quiet. I sort of hoped a neighbor heard. You know, let them know I’ve got something worth moaning about now.
Now, Adam, it’s your turn. What are you going to do with that image in your head? Be a gentleman? Or prove how not innocent you really are?
Still panting and messy,
Amelia
P.S. I still haven’t told you what I did after.
P.P.S. Should I?
From:[email protected]
Subject: You gave me no choice
Amelia,
I was going to wait before writing back. Thought I’d take a walk or a freezing shower, cool off, and be reasonable.
You ruined that plan completely.
I read your email, closed my laptop, sat back in my chair, and stared at the walls for a minute. Then I gave up trying to be composed because it’s impossible to read the word “panting and messy” and stay calm.
And since you asked for it, here are the details.
I was in my home office. Still in a button-down from a virtual meeting. It’s one you would’ve liked—dark gray, sleeves rolled, top buttons undone.
I imagined you just like you described. Laid out, needy, breathy with my name on your tongue. So I leaned back in my chair, undid my belt slowly—because I knew you’d want that pace—and wrapped my hand around my cock while replaying every line, especially the part about you not being quiet.
