flirty dirty

We are separated by 4,518 miles (or 7,271 kilometers, as I am a kilometer girl).

I had to check.

LIFE SUCKS. 

J.

This is what I’d like to be doing at this very second.

You would be working on your laptop, reading an email, serious-looking, concerned about something. I’d be hovering in the background, making a cup of coffee (you know how I like my espresso).

You probably wouldn’t even notice at first that I have popped down under your desk, or maybe as a slight annoyance (“What is she doing now, can’t she stay still for a minute? Did she drop something on the floor?”).  I would however get your full attention as my palm would gently start rubbing your crotch; my nimble fingers caressing the contour of your cock through the fabric.

I would eventually liberate your eager cock. It would spring to life in my hands, pulsating and warm, and so soft! I’d give it a gentle kiss, and I can assure you that you would love feeling my breath onto it.  Very delicately, I would press my parted lips onto the tip of your cock, oh-so-gently inching it inside the warm velvet of my mouth. I would feel your smile rather than see it, and would sense your whole body relax and tense at the same time, as you would lean back into your seat.  

One hand cupping your balls, I would let my mouth and my tongue do what they do best and oh-so-slowly bring you to the edge. You would love how my tongue would twirl around the tip of your cock while my hand would rub your shaft, sending shivers through your whole body.  Gone would be your worries, dear M.

As you would get closer and closer to the point of no-return, I would feel your whole body getting more and more tense, your thigh muscles rock hard and your delicious bum rhythmically clenching.  Just before the final assault, I’d let myself enjoy the sight of your cock: shiny and wet, pulsating, alive, so solid under my fingers.

I’d probably want you to beg me to finish you off. You’d be exasperated by so much teasing, and eager to see how it would all end.

So, I would take you whole into my mouth, my hands now working at at merciless speed, my mouth creating deliciously relentless ripples of pleasure one after the other. I would even let you hold my head, caressing my hair and running a hand over my neck as you would finally explode in my mouth.

I would want you to scream as you orgasm, almost in pain, in total disbelief that so much pleasure could be achieved by such a simple caress. You’d be left panting, sweaty and breathless.  After a few seconds, I would simply get up from under the desk, and would go back to my beloved espresso machine, humming a familiar tune. 

This is what I would do right now, if I had a magic wand and could bring us both under the same roof for a few moments.

J.

Suddenly, I am not invisible anymore. For weeks I have been walking around under a cloak of invisibility which has now been removed by you.

It is like men can see not only see me, but far worse, they can actually smell me.  I must reek of pheromones, and like a pack of dogs, men can smell a bitch in heat.

As I am standing on the station quay every morning, shivering in the cold and waiting for my train, men are now openly starring at me, throwing side glances, pressing themselves onto me at any occasion.

I know you don’t believe me, dear M, but I swear it’s true!

The best part though, is that I am meeting their glances with a resolute gaze.  They should all know that I am taken - your name is all over me.  I would like all of these insignificant guys to understand that you own every inch of my body, and that I have chosen to fully give myself to you alone.

J.

In an attempt to get your attention, I thought I’d tell you about this fantasy I have.

It takes place at a house party, somewhere in Europe. A tall narrow house with windy staircase. Imagine lots of cool people, loud music, laughter, plenty of drinks. They are probably playing Phoenix and LCD Soundsystem. Some guys are messing around in the kitchen, some girls are dancing on the dining room table - quite a typical party. I am there with some friends, having a good time, being slightly tipsy and quite horny actually.
 
Upstairs, there are several bedrooms with tons of coats thrown on beds, a few people making out in the dark or smoking on the balcony.  I make my way to the bathroom (we say ‘loo’ which I think makes you laugh). There is a queue of people waiting to use the bathroom, all of them guys. I am the only girl queuing, sandwiched between all these men. We chat a bit, we flirt - I like the look of them.

And for some strange reason, once it is my turn to use the loo, I simply step in the bathroom and remove my tight jeans. I turn off the lights (so the only light I see is from the corridor, through the half-opened door.  I lean over the sink, facing the mirror - my bum is bare and creamy white, round and tight and inviting.  The guy waiting next in the queue comes in, and I just invite him to fuck me.  So he does.   He just sticks his cock inside me, reaches out for my tits under my black top, and fucks me in intense sharp bursts.

When he is done, I just tell him to bring the next guy in. He leaves the bathroom, still in the dark, with just a small triangle of light spilling on the tiles from the half-opened door. I hear whispering in the corridor, and the next guy comes in.

So here starts an amazing journey - because they all fuck me. All of them. These guys are getting so excited, they literally start rallying all of the men from the party (word of mouth spreads like fire). Some of them are so eager, they are already stroking themselves as they wait for their turn. There is a long queue of guys stretching all the way down the stairs.

One by one, they enter the dark bathroom, grab my hips and fuck me, over and over. Some of them will nibble my neck as they do so, other will just roughly fumble under my top to hold onto my tits. We don’t say a word, we don’t turn on the light - I never turn back and look at them, I can just see their dark reflection in the bathroom mirror, and feel their cocks invading me.

So what do you think?

J.

I am feeling neglected, M. Where are you?

J.

Did you like the photos I texted you today? Bit by bit, you are getting acquainted with every inch of my body, from my toes to my tits, from my (pot)belly to my bum.  I can’t wait for the moment you will piece all these snippets together like a giant jigsaw puzzle. Just thinking that they’ve made you hard is a reward :) Please tell me how you jerked off thinking about me. I want to know when and how.

The mere mention of your name is enough to make me wet and slick, I don’t need much encouragement these days. Seeing your name appearing when you log onto Messenger is enough for butterflies to materialize in my stomach!

Do you think we are crazy to persevere, knowing we live at opposite ends of the world? I don’t know yet how and when we will do this, but fucking you has become hi-pri on my to-do list. Maybe I am driving myself crazy - how can I crave your touch so much when I haven’t even met you?

J.

You mentioned a strap-on the other day…. tell me more :)

J.

It’s not dichotomy  - it’s the ultimate layering. There is this French cake, a Mille-Feuilles (thousand leaves) where uber thin layers and layers of delicious pastry are painstakingly placed on top of each other. Let me be your Mille-Feuilles, you can gobble me down in one go or expertly peel each layer one by one. I am a whore, a mother, a geek, a cook, a boss, a daughter, a sister, a bookworm, a music lover and an insatiable lover all rolled into one.

While you are thousands of miles away (5 thousands? 7 thousands? I haven’t even checked), my mind wanders into this alternative reality where we meet and fuck without constraints. To answer your question: I did wear this tight g-string you wanted me to wear, it was tantalizingly uncomfortable and made my clit angry and demanding all day. I tried to ignore it until it threw a tantrum and ordered me to take care of things. So I fingered myself quickly and angrily, thinking of you (miles away).

J.