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And then we talk of the pandemic

You are my fantasy. And then we talk of the pandemic.

You are my fantasy

You should be sleeping young man, is what I don’t say. What I do say is that I was fine until you fumbled. I want to dance with you. Nothing formal. I want to move to actual music.” I type.

There’s been no break in our session. It lasted all day and now past midnight into the next. You are my fantasy.

We dance. Smoke spliff. Talk.” he says.

“Doesn’t have to be standing.”

“If you stand i so often go back to kneeling in front of you and licking you. Turns me on. Selfish me. We laugh. We talk. I want to lick your sex. Want you to come and come. I want you to come. Intellectually, physically & sexually. I want to explore your fantasies. Good boy or greedy man?”

“But you are my fantasy.” I reveal.

“As u are mine.”  he responds. My heart leaps.

“Giving you explicit consent for half awake sex. I’ll be fully awake no matter what, but pretending. (I don’t do half awake).” I admit.

“Nope i am going to fantasize about you sucking my cock for 2nd orgasm before you ‘sleep’ and i curl up spooned behind you slow and slow so slow. Until u say faster. When u say faster i put myself slower but deeper. I have learnt your and am learning your sex. My tip. Just my tip. Until you realise you are so wet and open.” He types.

There is a pause as I take it in.

“So i’m your fantasy.” he types. 

“Yes. So much so that others know it’s you. The fantasy came before you. Be careful what you ask for.”

“Ofc it did. Yes be very careful. I try to be. Think u do too.” He adds emojis of a spider, and a web.

I don’t know that I am being careful. This fantasy is too real. You are my fantasy. I switch to voice, laughing and smiling.

“Yes yes, I am very careful. Maybe a little not careful considering that I think that we’ve been pretty much having cybersex for over 24 hours. But I am very careful. And the reason is that I want it to last forever. I don’t want to fuck it up. It’s too precious, so, I’m very careful, even when I pretend that I’m not being so. And that’s how I am with anything that I really, really, really want. Which pretty much drives my life.”

“Writer.” he says.

“Is that what writers do? Follow desires?” I type.

“I do think an interest in words has to come into it. Whether the words are put together in tiny little microbits or whether they’re put together in 600 page novels. You know? I’m not sure which. But I think words, words come into it. Words are magick. They are spells. They’re hymns. They bring forth everything which is essential to being.” he says, by voice. 

And we talk of words and winged feet, which he says would get in the way of sleep and be difficult to clean. Then he types “Send me your voice a moment” and says by voice

“I need to hear your voice.” In this I hear “You are my fantasy.”

“Hi. I’m very shy. I’m grinning. I was going to be mean when you asked for my voice, I was. But then you said that you needed it, and I didn’t feel mean. But I’m still laughing at your shooting down of my winged feet fantasy.”

And then we talk of the pandemic. 

“I find your voice hot. And so yup, you’re right, I’m reclining, holding my cock, waiting on your voice, waiting on your fantasy. I don’t know what it’s going to be this time. How does it begin?

“Well, considering the context, it begins with immunity.”

And then we talk of the pandemic. 

He tells me it is raining. Pouring.

I really want you to suck my cock.” He says. Now we’re only communicating by voice. It’s become direct, intimate, deep.

I really want to suck your cock. Rain or shine. Ooo I just got a random shot of adrenaline. Was it your cock? It’s also about to rain here. Interesting…”

“After fucking you in front of the mirror, wow, I told you, I was going to come in your mouth. Before your sleep fantasy. Just forget pandemic. I did ask. And I did ask very nicely.” he giggles.

“Now I’m hot because you can go from grim to giggling, quickly. And I can’t say anything because my mouth is full. Warm. Hot. What do you call it when it’s hard on the inside, but a little soft on the outside? There’s got to be a word for that.

On my knees.

When I was younger I loved to suck cock, and I would suck cock, but I wouldn’t fuck sometimes. No no no, I thought the latter more intimate. Cuz, you know, good girl in a Puritan culture. And then I started to get selfish, in a good way, at first. And then, in a bad way. So I stopped sucking cock.

Then, I was in Barcelona, and this perfect cock was in my mouth. And now all I want to do is suck that cock. Cuz I was in a hurry. Because the perfect cock had things to do. Cleaning. Soldering. And I cared, and I shouldn’t have. I should have just kept sucking your cock. Or maybe not. Maybe I would have gotten my fill. Mmmm then I wouldn’t want it so bad. It was the way you let it happen. There was something that you released, and I could taste it. That I want.”

You are my fantasy. And then we talk of the pandemic.

“The storm here is so wonderful. This wind. This rain. I’m going to stand on the balcony. Can you hear the rain? It’s absolutely torrential” He opens the door to his balcony and I hear it, pouring down. 

“Wow. Rain. I type.”

And then we switch to video, to fuck each other in the rain, face to face in reality not fantasy. And it is not recorded, but I remember it, I remember it more than any other time we fucked from afar, on video, while the virus and the rain raged around us. You are my fantasy.

I remember how I came, so hard, staring into his face as I lay on the couch. The rain drizzling on my end and pouring on his. Everything wet.

His face, so familiar and yet so alien. I don’t know him, but I’ve always known him.

My favorite lover is standing, Naked, his slight body lit mostly by the light of the phone screen. He holds the phone away from him while he plays with his cock, but even at arm’s length I cannot see his cock and his face at the same time. He knows I’d rather see his face and that’s what he focuses the camera upon. He’s making faces as though he is kissing me, pursing his lips. It feels goofy yet so hot

There’s pain and sadness and desperation in his face, as there is always. It arouses me, the intensity, the way he needs me to soothe him and distract him from his life

The rain pours where he is. The rain pours where I am.

And then we are suddenly interrupted by a friend of his, who is in desperate trouble. He flinches as he has to decide to help rather than to continue our session. And we part ways for some hours.

And then, six months later, that friend of his who so rudely interrupted his video wank, who he calls a brother, who he has sat with so many times doing unhealthy things I know that he wouldn’t do otherwise, that friend who he has not let know that he is sexting me while hanging out with him… that friend dies.

We are not in touch at that time. I hear about it many months later.

The fantasy is bleeding away into the horror of his reality. He doesn’t live in the one that I do, the one where no matter what I face, a light shines through me.

You are my fantasy. And then we talk of the pandemic.


Want more? 

This post is #11 in a series documenting cybersex with my favorite lover, and #5 of that one time we went at it relentlessly 16 hours a day for 3 weeks straight:

Next Post

Cybersex Duet:

1: Halloween Lover

2: Your Cock

3: Dirty Sex Chat

4: Your Cunt

5: Shower Sex

6: 4th of July Orgasms

7: Cyberfuck Duet

8: Empty Me

9: Fuck

10: Hard

11: And then we talk of the pandemic

12: 20% Battery

13: Online Flirt

14: Hot Messaging

15: Side of Shibari

16: Three Day Blowjob

17: Naked in the Dark

18: Is Cybersex Cheating?

19: Want You (Sexy Messages)

20: Hot Sexy Stories

21: Erotic Stories

22: Orgasms Litter My Day: Free Sexy Reads

But wait, there’s more!

How we met: The European Lovers: Hookup

The first time: The European Lovers: Barcelona

Favorite Lover as Muse:

1: Whoring for Lifetimes

2: Cheater

3: Stop. Falling. In. Love. With. Monogamous Men.

4: Speaking of the Future


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