This afternoon I was just finishing up a letter to someone that had been very triggering and difficult to write It flooded all sorts of agitation around inside my body. My face was tight with the uncomfortableness that arose from talking about things I would rather soon forget. It wasn’t to anyone I even really know, or who knows me, which I suppose is what made it so easy to just flush all that buried emotion out of my system.
As I had stepped away from my computer, my cell pinged at me from across the room.
“Sitting here with my cock in hand looking at your pictures” the message from FRF read. I smiled at the thought, but then banished my phone back to my nightstand without responding.
“That is the last place I can go right now”, I muttered to myself.
I was in another headspace from what I had just finished writing, and sexy was the least of things I was feeling. I was so tense and agitated. But then I thought to myself that maybe this sexy little escape was just what I needed after all. I mean, seriously, what better way to get rid of bad tension than with an orgasm?
I went back in my mind to all the flirty text messages we had been sending to each other earlier in the day…about how I had been in class that morning and could barely concentrate because I kept daydreaming about his face buried between my thighs and his fingers deep inside my exploring…about how much I wanted to wrap my mouth around his cock…how he couldn’t wait to know what it was like for me to cum squirting all over him…and about the towels we’d need to keep from drowning.
My bad mood instantly vanished, and was instantly replaced with wetness between my legs.
“Let me send you something new”, I replied. There had been 7 minutes that had passed since his message had first appeared.
I yanked off my jeans, discarded them in a pile on my bedroom floor, and climbed into my awaiting bedsheets.
I knew that my timing was off with his now, but who cared really because I knew the moment my fingers brushed up against my clit that I was going to come quickly. Foreplay, even just in the form of sexy text messages, only adds to the power behind a great orgasm.
I rubbed my tingling clit in slow circles thinking about how he was stroking himself while thinking of me. The other day I told him I felt like silk, and I did. I was so warm and slick, so soft to the touch. I could get lost in the feel of myself beneath my fingertips. I watched my screen for another message and hoped our edges would cross one another. Impatient with want, I scrolled back into messages from weeks ago to find one of the photos of the head of his rigid cock glistening with pre-cum. Thoughts of what he would feel like against my lips and tongue…what he would taste like as wrapped my mouth around his cock, rushed in. They were quickly followed by what I wrote him next.
The flush of rising orgasm was spreading like a slow fire throughout every inch of my skin.
Sliding my fingers inside myself, I imagined they were his. Deep inside I could feel this firm bump that I had not remembered being so pronounced before…my god my g-spot was even erect! You know, I didn’t know g-spots could change size and shape with arousal, but here I was in the middle of the throws of lust, stroking away, and in complete awe of my new discovery. It was round and ripe with my desire.
I pressed my fingertips even more firmly into it, drawing more circles, and my eyes opened wide with the wetness that grew. Somehow I had brought myself to the edge of squirting all over myself with just a few small strokes. What I really wanted was to be squirting all over his face, seeing his cheeks dripping with me, and sucking myself from his kiss.
My gaze was fixed on that photo of him, as I rubbed fingered, and stroked myself into a shaking crescendo of orgasmic bliss. Afterwards, with moist fingers still resting against my clit, I lay there and just let those after shock tremors wash over me, being still.
And just like that, we were both up and going out into our respective worlds in a matter of minutes.
Sometimes I think I must be a saint for keeping my resolve all this time, and resisting the urge to just put the two of us together to allow us to combust. Imaginations are a far safer playground though.