My girlfriend's been out of town for a week. I really miss her. I always miss her, but sometimes I'm not very good about demonstrating how much. Without her around I throw myself into work. I get tied up during the day, and I don't send her emails the way I would if I knew she was going to be online most of the time. But she's always good about contacting me, and answering what I do send, and not bugging me too much about sending her more.

This time I pledged to myself I'd do better. For the first three days she was away I was much better. I sent her emails I would normally send when I could expect an immediate response, work-related items I thought she might miss seeing on the road, little notes about how much I missed her. The first couple of days she was answering everything. She called me on the phone at work and told me how much she missed me. She talked dirty to me, It was great. Then the conference began to get tough, fighting between various factions, breaking news that required media work, all the kinds of stuff she has to deal with as coordinator in addition to keeping the celebrities happy. The email responses started to drop off. The phone calls came while I was in meetings. More and more of her messages were dedicated to the amount of help the celebrities were requiring, and how much they seemed to like her, and how much she was enjoying their attention.

The thing is, my girlfriend is a dropdead gorgeous flirt. And with certain men, especially powerful men, she's a dropdead gorgeous slut. She loves cock, especially big, powerful, handsome, famous cock. There's nothing that makes her quite as happy as making a man hard, or gives her a sense of satisfaction like swallowing the come of a man she admires. I started to picture her doing with them all the things she does with me, whispering in their ears about how wet she is, eating ice cream cones and popsicles and bananas slowly and lovingly, playing with her nipples through her shirt, flashing them, kissing them on empty elevators, reveling in the naughtiness, basking in their energy, waiting until their wives or girlfriends are out shopping somewhere, following them back to their rooms and giving them blowjobs they will never forget, blowjobs they will remember every time a mouth touches their cocks from this day forth, submissively kneeling, deep throating, long licking, mirror-reflected, hard sucking, tongue flicking, hair wrapping, head-bobbing, ball fondling blowjobs with urgent, controlling hands on the back of her head orgasms that leave them standing, hanging, suspended in space for eternal seconds before exploding into her mouth, then all over her face and her neck and her breasts, orgasms that she rubs into her skin before gently cleaning up every remaining drop with her tongue.

Those are the images that have been running through my mind all week, those images, and one question. I've been hard all week, hard and distracted. Of course there's nobody I can talk to about it, nobody to discuss the images, nobody to ask the question.

I sure as hell can't talk to my wife.

And who would know if the same images are running through the mind of my girlfriend's husband?