She reads his message slowly, sobbing to herself as she realises his intentions. She thinks of all the fantasies she has written in her diary, all her sexual dreams, from the dreams of being watched to the more extreme ones of being gang banged. And as she thinks of everything she has written, she realises how much this man knows about her, about her inner thoughts.
“No more” she mutters to herself determined. And with that she pulls the keyboard closer and writes a new email.
“To whoever you are, I am not going to play this game any longer. You have had your cheap thrill, I bet you have wanked over my pictures, you sad person. But that is it. You can keep my diary for your lonely life, I don’t care anymore. But I will not do anything for you again, you can just fuck off and leave me alone. And if you think about doing anything else, I will inform the police, this is blackmail after all, and I’m sure the police would be able to trace you.”
She doesn’t even read the message as she presses send, her anger pushing her into this. And without even considering waiting to see if he replies, she shuts the computer down and heads to bed.
As she ascends the stairs she realises she is aroused, maybe her anger and strength in sending that message has turned her on. She enters her bedroom, wondering if her husband might still be awake, if maybe he will fuck her tonight and hopefully last longer than normal. But as she pushes the door closed, she can hear his snores of sleep.
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