We’d both had a long week. Mostly for different reasons, but also a few of the same ones. We were decompressing. I was watching tv and finishing a late dinner. He was stretched out on the couch watching James Bond movies. A couple of thousand miles in between us.

He popped up in a chat window. Wanting to know how I was and what I was doing. We didn’t talk much at first. Enjoying some quiet time, as it were. The chat window providing a thread of connection. It was enough. I knew he was there. He knew I was.

When he told me he was watching James Bond, I got jealous. I love James Bond. I told him I wanted to be there with him. Curled up watching a movie. He said I’d be welcome to watch, that he’d want to grope. Not something I’d resist at all. But I wanted to be fucked slow and lazy that night. Because it had been that kind of week.

“Perfect,” he said. Lots of kissing. Lots of touching. Tasting. We both needed it.

That info sort of sat between us for a few moments. I leaned back against the cushion of my couch and closed my eyes. My fingers found the underside of my jaw and followed the curve down the front of my throat to my collarbone.

“I can feel you with me,” I typed. “If I close my eyes. I’m touching myself the way I want you to touch me. The way I need you to touch me.”

“Tell me.”

I was on the floor in front of my couch. I was barefoot, but still in the dress I’d worn to work, my hair in a ponytail. Again I ran my fingertips across my jawline and down the curve of my throat. My palms flat across my breasts.

“Where my lips would trace.”

I could feel my nipples through the silk of my dress. I could feel them through my bra. I pinched them a little, not hard, just enough to tug a bit. To keep them hard. My hands ran underneath my breasts. Holding them. Feeling their weight. Cupping them as though I was lifting them toward his mouth.

“Perfect weight.”

I slipped open the neckline of my dress. I pushed it ever so slightly off my shoulders and tipped my head to one side. Making room for his lips on my neck. I reached for my pussy. Stroking a few times. Feeling the wetness through my panties.

“That’s my pussy.”

Those words sent a shiver through me. I felt my hips wanting to move. I pushed my panties to the side, just enough to slip in one finger. My knees were bent. My feet flat on the floor. I tasted the juice on my finger. I freed my left breast and rolled the nipple between thumb and forefinger.

“Mmm baby.”

I was so slick. My pussy was coated in thick wetness. It felt decadent. I didn’t want to make myself cum. I was enjoying it too much. My fingers sliding in and out in steady rhythm.

“Mmm, I want to enter you.”

I wanted to be on top of him. I wanted him to watch me. I wanted to see him. I knew I couldn’t hold off my orgasm much longer. I was going to cum.

“I want that. Cum for me love.”

I felt my pussy clenching around my fingers as though they were his cock. I was so close.

“Feel my arms around you, our eyes locked.”

That’s all it took for me to climax. I squeezed my eyes shut and grasped at the carpet. Riding out an orgasm that warmed my entire body. After I wanted to just lay my head on his chest. His arms still around me. His cock still inside of me. To rub my cheek against the soft hair on his chest.

“Perfect. You can fall asleep safe and sound if you want.”

I just wanted to be held. By him. We gradually returned to other conversation. Discussing upcoming travel plans. Idle chatter. But now that I had my fill of slow and lazy, I was wanting something more. I wanted to fuck.

“Harder this time.”

I’d clicked on a video link he’d sent me that morning. Some good old fashioned outdoor ass fucking. Same as he wanted to do with me. There wasn’t anything particularly remarkable about the video. But it got me all perked up and frisky. I was liking it. I told him I couldn’t wait to feel him in my ass again.

“Good. You’re gonna get it.”

By the time I finished the video I was really wet.

“Cum again baby, but, with a toy in your ass this time.”

I hopped up and ran to my bedroom. Fishing around in the cabinet next to my bed, searching for a butt plug. I grabbed the same one he’d used on me before. I painted it with a thin layer of lube, leaned over my bed slightly, and inserted it with one deliberate push. When I returned to the living room I felt it push in even farther as I sat down. I started to grind on it. I got out my hitachi and placed it against my clit.

“Don’t cum yet.”

I wanted him to tell me when.

“Not yet. Keep grinding.”

I did. Feeling that unmistakable need for release.

“Do you need to cum baby?”

Yes.

Please.

“My slut needs to cum?”

Yes.

Please.

It felt like an eternity. I’m not used to waiting. I begged for him to let me cum for him. I needed it so badly.

“Cum for me my whore. Cum hard. Cum for me.”

I exploded. Screaming his name into the emptiness of my apartment. There was no doubt that I’d orgasmed on our first go round, but it wasn’t like this. I’d been building to this since we began. I had series of orgasms. Back to back to back. Fortunately I’d had the forethought to fetch a towel when I’d gone for the butt plug. Otherwise my carpet would have been drenched.

“Better baby?”

I was still cumming.

“Ooh good slut. My beautiful cumslut.”

After my orgasms had subsided and my breath had returned to normal, I told him what has been my truth for months now. That every time I cum it’s for him.  Even when he has no idea I’m doing it. It is always his name on my lips.

“I am so lucky.”

I think I am the lucky one.