Whorls

Dearest Daniel

I have to tell you about this outfit I got for Easter. It’s called Fiona, I have no idea why. Fiona sounds to me like a name for a cat. Anyway, it came in four colors, and I picked out one that was a faintly blueish pink. There was also a darker blue and a yellow and I forget the other one. The dress color made me think a little bit of the color of my nipples. Or my pussy lips. In certain circumstances. Sexual circumstances.

The color also made me think of this little flower I saw the other day, I’m not sure of the name of it. The petals were really tiny and delicate.

The next thing I did was create a painting on my computer. Swirls of color sort of like the color of the flower or the color of my new outfit or the color of my sexually aroused pussy. And then I portaled into the painting, wearing my new outfit and holding the little flower. I was a little lonely.

Okay, now I need you to take off all your clothes and give me a call.

---

“Hi Emma.”

“Daniel, I’m so glad you got my message. I was getting lonelier and lonelier. Missing you so much. Did you take off your clothes?”

“I did.”

“Good. Now set your phone down and close your eyes and hold your breath.”

---

“Emma! How did you do that?”

“I have my ways. How do you like my outfit?”

“It’s lovely. You’re lovely.”

“I probably should have shaved my pussy hair, but I guess it’s okay that it shows through a little.”

“Yes, I love the way it shows through.”

“Although if I’d shaved, you might have been able to see a hint, or even more than a hint, of my pussy slit.”

“True. But I can see more than a hint of your nipples.”

“True. Do you think I was right about the color?”