She sat on the loveseat, her computer in her lap, her husband asleep and snoring on the couch, her skirt unbuttoned to the waist, typing with her right hand, typing expletives, exhortations and descriptions of what her left hand was doing.

Both hands were moving very, very fast.

It was an incredible demonstration of multitasking and instant messaging: reading all the nasty things her former lover was writing to her, calling her his bitch, his whore, his slut, his cunt, his beautiful cocksucking lover; typing in her responses, her instructions to fuck her, to fuck her mouth, to suck her breasts, to eat her hard, to spank her, to squeeze her, to hurt her like the bad girl he knew she was, to make her come; all the time her left hand was racing across her clit, pressing hard and down in fast circles, bigger at first then tighter and tighter, stopping only to plunge a finger deep insider herself, to lick it off, to smear her juices roughly on her nipples; watching her husband, the slow rise and fall of his side as he slept; controlling the sound of her own fast breath, biting her lip when she wanted to scream, trying not to make a sound, or to knock the computer onto the floor with a crash that would wake him.

There she sat, wild, untamed, on the verge of coming, when the computer announced an email. Normally she would have ignored it, as caught up as she was in the conversation, in the boldness, in the naughtiness, in her impending orgasm. but this email was from her boyfriend, and she wanted him to know exactly how bad she was being, so that he could punish her properly later.

Quickly she opened an email window, dealing now with her former lover, her current boyfriend, her sleeping husband, her mouse, her keyboard, her rock hard nipples and her wet throbbing cunt, while typing a description of all that had happened that evening with her right hand.

She needed to come. She was a bad bad girl and she needed to come hard.

I was, to say the least, quite thrilled with her email, with the image the email produced in my mind, with her naughtiness, with the knowledge that the next time I saw her she would be naked on all fours with her ass in the air begging to be smacked red and finger-fucked at the same time.