[B]a partial  fiction if you are interested:[/B]
Pure frustration. Married man; married women; find each other by accident-exchanging pictures and email. His is a partially nude upper  body shot. At first she thinks it is arrogant until she zooms in on the eyes. They are hypnotic.
Agreeing to meet, he leaves before she arrives. Discussed later via email as a matter of honor, integrity, original commitments, they part. Days later she initiates one more conversation. He responds brusquely yet makes a comment which challenges her. She responds with a racy email attachment of herself, also writing an erotic fantasy with which to spank him. Receiving it he turns the table on her by editing it in a way which turns her unbelievably on. His use of words is impeccable, well-rounded, grounded in a formal vocabulary. Literate, he says things so insistently so that she can feel his breath in her hair.

She comes up with things to please him and reveals far more about herself than she intended. Anonymity slowly stripped away, she opens to him, exploring her terrible hidden past; now recreating itself in a new direction. He makes no move to take it further, rebuffing her sharply when she tries to force him to unveil his mysterious persona. This new experience is as ancient as lust. She wishes she was firmer and younger.  Allowed to question him, he reveals very little, admitting he does not want a mistress or a lover, but a partner with whom he can explore certain fantasies. He reveals his interest in adult erotica writing, presenting scenarios to test her sensuality. Each scenario is devised to encourage her to greater confidence of her sexual mores. With this medium she literally is being conditioned as she experiences apologizing and pleading.

He will not say what he desires from her except to approve  her cyber offerings as she becomes more bold, presenting each piece of herself as a gift to him. He grudgingly acquiesces but holds himself aloof from her beginning submission. She says please in a way that means so much more; he grins to himself, nodding. He asks her  if she understands the ramifications of their weekly scenarios. That fantasy and reality are separated for a reason. She thinks she does, yet the absence of being physically present with each other in a setting of his choice, causes her to dwell upon her abiity to give this mystery man the pleasure he requires.

Becoming more sexually suggestive in her dress and bearing she is afraid yet eager. She dreams of  her “lover's”  touch in such a way that her darkest fantasies become his utmost pleasure. She longs for a command that will bring both tears to her eyes and a peace to her soul in this; her destiny; hidden away for years, longing to be mastered, needing to beg for whatever he wishes to give. This building of illicit desires and senses  makes perfect logic now. Her internal demons under control by a lover who desires not her, but controlling her. It is the perfect expression of a lust that has smoldered for years under the mantle of wife and mother and MILF.

Lover and (dare she think it),  master, if only  his secure arms were there to catch her, if only if he will allow her to trust him. If only he would allow her to look into his eyes or touch her neck now; she would make a sound between a plea and a whimper. He has this power over her sensuality without even hearing her voice, so what would happen when they meet? The thought causes her pelvic muscles to tighten and a familiar wetness begin. She closes her eyes and wonders when his aroused scent will waken her, standing over her, one hand on her shoulder, a finger laid across her lips, and that terrible familiarity in his eyes. He has  known her all his life.