A detective once told me I am a “schemer.” I asked him what he meant by that, though, admittedly, I already knew.
My State Policeman was about to experience a touch of my innocuous devising.
I was wholly determined to get Tony to accommodate my fancy of him sending me an au naturel photograph of himself. I calculated the best method to tempt the exhibitionist out of him was pretending to be one myself -- and credit him for it in the process.
Ya know how some women fake an orgasm? Well, I faked a masturbation.
I laid on my back on a bed and took a picture of my hand quasi-inserted in my panties. I was careful not to expose anything; I merely had to plant the sexual idea in his mind. Then I ransacked one of my closets for something to simulate the results of getting off. My original thought was baby oil, but, finding none, I decided on hair gel instead. A little on my fingers and palm and voila! Instant sham climax! One more click of the shutter and I was set.
I emailed the small-sized pair of close-ups to Tony. Frankly, if expedient risqué images of me ended up filling a space in Web Land in the future, like, for example, on a blog about a Virginia State Police Special Agent, or appeared as evidence in a court of law, hey, I was a-okay with that.
Now, you might not believe the above account, but, really, all you have to do is track down the aforementioned detective and I’m pretty positive he’ll swear it’s precisely this kind of contriving of mine that prompted his comment to me. Alternatively, heck, just read either I HeArTE JADE or any given “My Perspective” post here.
