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“Hi.” he says. I stare at the date above this message that shows his last. We had online sex chat all day on the 11th. True to his pattern should disappear for 3-6 months. It’s the 14th. It’s Bastille Day. It’s 3 days later. Why is he saying hi? Fuck.

We talk of Covid, of my imminent departure from the US to the UK. Of relative attitudes. Sleep, food, magick. Of Bastille Day. Of all things. We discuss the Inca. Bolivia. Jewishness. Online sex chat.

And then, we switch to video and masturbate for each other. And it is not recorded. Fuck.

Online Sex Chat

It is the next day… and he messages me again. Fuck.

“You are on your back. I am so shallow missionary. I want u on top. I ask u to go top. U choose ur pose. Coz u pose. U fuck and pose. Admired and exhilaratingly listened to.”  he says. The online sex chat begins.

I smile at this. I have been sharing my life, my details. My experiences.

“Ok, ok. I don’t like being on top but you always ask for it. My legs are long. It’s hard to move.” I complain. No sense building fantasy. I want the real thing.

“Flip over.” he commands.

“But I do like posing for you.” I type.

“Flip over.” he understands.

“Flipped.”

“I love this moment. Do I get u from clit to crease? How do i begin? What do i say? Your legs spread. Those thighs still wet.”

“You want to know what to say? You know that anything real will spread me wide. You know I don’t want pretty lies.”

“So fuck.”

“When I am lying there, I want you to stroke me from clit to crease with your cock.” I say.

“The glistening difference of colours of u and I.” he says.

“I want you to do it slowly. And I want no hands. Just tip of your cock, teasing both my clit and my opening, neither getting what they want… until that magnetic click. Where despite any efforts elsewise, you slip inside.” 

“I slip around so much” he says.

“And neither of us know who caused it.” I continue.

“I slip. I slip around and ease back to look at glistening colours. I lick a moment. I test my coordination. Can i slip where i lick. Can u bring me in? Can u bring me in? I am clumsy like most males.” he says. His humility sends shudders through me.

“My colors. Peaches and cream. Yes I can grasp you, pull you, push, grasp again. Inch by inch.” I use inches to show him I’m USAmerican, to echo previous sessions where I talked in centimeters and millimeters to show him I’m worldly. We have nerdy online sex chat.

“Can u bring me in? Oh. U caught me.”

“Slippery web.” 

“U did one of those sighs to let me know.”

“A gasp. An intake. The shock of fullness. Always nowhere to put it so it escapes my lips. But not much can displace, even with all the inches of you in me. So I have nowhere to put the space you took up. So fuck you. Just grab your ass and slam you in, only to return to gentle wonder and again staring. Detached. Lazy. Fuck me. Want your cock. Need to work on that left side pussy muscle. Need something to bear down on.”

“U squeezed your kegel to keep me there. But i left just a moment. I needed to move you to hip side your left. And i went so slowly and deeply.” he says.

“‘Yessss’ comes out of me.”

I know your cunt. So much fun flipping you over and over. Edging myself. Pausing, licking you, fingers inside you.”

“And I don’t know whether to like that, that you know my cunt. Whether the respect and kindness and oh so good lovin’ is worth the fear of losing my favorite fuck to lack of mystery, but maybe that is another thing to let go of. Hips backing up to you wherever you are as my face innocently denies I’m trying to get you back inside.”

“Glistening. U know my cock u know my timing u know my rhythm. U also know u just say words and we agree.” he says. I do.

“And I want it to last forever, but I can’t help compulsively sucking on your cock. With my mouth, with my pussy. It just feels like the right thing to do.” I shrug.

“I always need permission and consent. & your pussy is so wet tight & finally easy to find and slip into. Deep thrusts. Shallow touches. Wriggles. Moments held. Both our muscle sets dancing.” his words during online sex chat light me up.

“There is nothing I want more than your touch, your mouth, your uncensored desire. Yes always.” I consent.

“I am trained to censor.”

“I can help you with that. I’ll try anything thrice with you. And me, I need to know how long i have. How long does your cock dance in me.”

“Nice word thrice.”

I know your ears a little bit. Just an inch.” I say, smiling as I give good online sex chat.

“U are doing your good girl vibe on pillow kneeling in front of me? I always move you from that position to licking you again or holding you down over nearest furniture and fucking you until we scream. Zoe knows how to moan. Zoe moans and comes. Zoe does Zoe. Zoe is flipped over yet again. Licked from clit to crease. Her back stroked. Her ligaments gently massaged. Her yes repeated. Another page in 2 writers’ novels.” he says. We are each other’s muses. Definitely for online sex chat.

“There’s furniture in the desert? And you. Insatiable. Learning to have no fear of exhausting you. Learning a little bit of trust. A little louder. A little more movement.” I say, calling forth earlier conversations of locations we’d love to fuck.

“Forget magick. Forget inca. I just tell you i fuck you for your creativity. Yes there is furniture in the desert. Hold my wrists. As i am behind you. My toes curled behind your shins. Slow as slow we can continue. Slow slow slow slow. Now i bite your neck. And it is deeper. But slower.” he says.

“The switch flips. Present. Slow. Grabbing your wrists. Your forearms. Just to be fucked. Slow, deep, your breath near my ear. Signature” 

“I have gone as far as i can and felt your cervix and kagel. As if i could reach them. Now we speed up. And you have so much to say about men.” he accuses.

“That made me grin. Do I?”

U are a writer Zoe. I fuck u as peer.”

“Blushing. It’s not the writing though. It’s the observation.” I confess.

“Why is peer such a trigger word?” he asks.

“Because it’s a defined relationship.” I tell.

“I want to tie your hands to your feet. I want you to tie my cock. I want us to play with kinetic knots. I want us to be high. Your high. How it brings such sensitivity to your nerve endings. How i am so delighted to be patient. You send me voice mail of u coming. I listened to it. I responded.” he explains.

“And I am always wondering… we talked for days, fucked for an hour, and then you disappeared. Where does this patience come from? This endless time? Is this to make up for the sting of how it unfolded. Or is it real. Will there be lingering? Will there be exhaustion? Will there be languishing delight from you? Will I be the one done first?

God u coming. U aroused. You flushed, you working. Higher than high.

I wonder if it’s me or you. You know I’m constantly annoyed by, as you say ‘short shags’. Do you really like what I like, or are you just giving me what I want? Why does it matter? It doesn’t. But you answered with ‘peer’. And so really, you want me to fuck you without my mind? Answer my questions. Context. There is no time in the desert. Just day and night. Light and dark. Hot and cold.” I continue the online sex chat.

“But you know we connected. I judged u and my initial assessment of you is clear. If u don’t work(ed) for the company or equivalent then u really are one who got away and needs attention. How far do my magickal powers permit me to go??? Deserts are so loud. The Ergs and dunes crash. The wind howls. The simplest noise echoes for km. The insects’ songs fill the moving emptiness. Removed from listening human ears.” he describes.

“And so, your magical powers take you within an inch of my life. I’ll still sacrifice you to save myself, but otherwise: blanket consent. And the desert. It is my favorite. The sound. The smell. All of them. High deserts. Low deserts. I want you to fuck me on a playa. I want the dust. Like silk. Feels so good with those ropes around your cock. For now. Don’t think about later. No consequences. Just me. Just a layer of talcy texture between us, between the ropes. Breathing. Unmasked. Caked around my nostrils. Turning our hair gray. Sweat wicks off instantly, dry as a bone.” I describe.

“Exactly where i want to be.” he says, and again I smile.

“Hey what do I do with your bone? I’ve never tied anyone’s cock.” I admit.

“Never? Wow.” 

“Never. Virgin. And I love your cock. I do not know it. Handsome stranger.”

“Hahahaha Handsome stranger & charming.” he laughs. I love it when I make him laugh.

“The intimate infinite. Intimidated. That feeling of hands on skin over the dust… 21 years of Burning Man and now I don’t go. Broken ritual. I quit last year. I was with you, instead. Directly then. The first time I was ever not there in 21 years, I was with you. So the dust. The feeling. The sensation. So I would run my hands along your feet.

Massage. Reflexology for your thoracic. Rippling fingers, sliding up your torso, over your shoulders, down your arms to grip your hands, thumbs on your ulnae, spreading your shoulder blades by moving your wrists and loving that anatomy train that connects one part of you to another so far. Because you give me all the attention. And I am stuck in guilt for my passivity. And I want to touch you everywhere. Hands on you. Arms on you, breasts on you.”

“U got it. We never tie to bind but simply to make one another more aware of the movements we have or feel or want to feel.”

“And I want this again, while you fuck me, feeling you shift your angle and rhthm as I connect to different spaces. Conductivity. The dust. I learned the hard way how much it conducts. Not just sensation. But volts.” I explain.

“U never held your cock on a leash. Instead of playing with men is it possible you wasted time letting them play with you? May i remind you i am still between your legs or kissing your mouth. I tied myself to your knots. Each time you jerked i felt it. Sometimes was ouch. Not too much coz i still am. You want to play different game. You want to lie beside me my cock barely in you as you circle your clit and try come as so often u have? Or do we free of rope embrace as close as we can. Forgive the fantasy. If we come together sweating and swearing on a hot summer day. 

Thrice.

Peer. 

Where do i come?” he asks. My favorite part of online sex chat.

“I want to play new game, learn new things. You are right. I have not played enough with men. And where do you come? Today i want to watch. I’ve never seen your actual come. Come 36 inches away so I can see your face and your cock at the same time. Pull out of me, but accidentally too early, so you have to use your hand to make yourself cum, and the timing it throws you off, and you have to work for it. And then yes that summer embrace. I want to hold you. Rest you.

But it isn’t just male desire that lights the pilot – it’s male desire to do unto me. Telling you this because, you know, if I am to play with you, in all the ways I’ve never played with a man – a few lines here and there to remind me the difference between play and work will be desired.” I wink.

“Oh sorry i forgot to mention we change game every few minutes without losing eroticism. I don’t like playing the same games all the time. Actually i find it a red flag.”

“ME TOO.” I agree.

“So sorry if i forgot to express that long ago the blindfold & corset & blaablaa.” he explains.

“And uh, I find it difficult to lose eroticism with you. You know this. So perhaps, I’d test that. Even thinking about how I’d test that, my cunt throbbed. Suddenly the thing I just thought of as example of boredom and fizzling flame became the thing that made me the most wet today…suddenly the game is you lying back, me laying with you, and you… you’re hiding. You’re not letting me know if I’m a good girl. Your magic has me unable to sense your intentions in your breath, in the slightest flick of your eyes, in your pulse. I’m flying blind. No reassurance. Clueless and clueless. Your cock can’t be muted by that magic tho. Whispers.”

“Lie on your back.” he orders.

“Yes sir.” I obey.

“Open.” he commands.

“Open.” I confirm

“Angle.”

“Angel” I smile.

“Got it. Hello woman.” 

“Hello man.”

“I have your buttocks so greedy in the palms of my hand. Coz i want that angle. Pillows. Kiss you long back arches. You work me to sweat even when still. Droplet falls from my nose to your forehead. That is angle.”

“I love your sweat. You are a hot summer night.” I sigh.

“From forehead to kisses on breasts is a curve of effort. So much of you tightening and slipping.”

“And if I curl, i can make your drops run down my belly” I say.

“Curl”

“Switchbacks of ribs. Was arched, but curled a bit the current has connection. Hollow body. Muscles instead of joints. And that one drop, sliding. Feel you everywhere and only there. Kiss your neck. Hands between us. One of them on my clit. One of them circling your cock so that when you pull out you are still in hand, and I flatten it between us on the downstroke. Like to feel your cock so warm from me. Angle.” I repeat.

“You control it. I like your lust.”

“I close my legs. Balancing you on top of a small canoe. One finger still on my clit. The other in yours. Fingers intertwined. Shallow strokes. Closed lips. You inside with your legs atop mine. Finding where our knees won’t poke. Angle. Balance. You pushing harder at the end of your strokes to get inside. Every stroke pulls you almost all the way out, just lips, tight around you, and you’re pushing for that deeper, tighter hold. And still my hand, wiggling between us. Coming. Coming thrice.” I type.

“Makes me greedy.” he smiles. I smile.

“You know what your greed does to me.”

“Makes you gasp and come coz i go harder. Makes u tell me to come.”

“Come for me. It’s always ‘for me’.”

“This time it is not. I just slip from your cunt and hold your short haired sexy head & fuck your mouth. And u say nothing. That short hair. Hands around your head. The nape and nerves of your skull.”

“It’s so much more fun when you are fucking my mouth. And I can last so much longer. Neck. Jaw.”

“I am going to come on you this time and you are going to be covered.” he warns.

“How does it make you feel that you’re the only man I’ve ever wanted to come on me?” I ask.

“Dominant.” he replies.

“That’s hot.” I blush.

“And i didn’t even need to play games or hold you in any pose. You know u make me hard again so quickly.”

“R u going to come on me? From roughly 329,662,080 inches away? I am blushing, in real life. Super heat crawling slowly over face down neck to belly, hips… don’t feel it in my sex because it is already flushed. Will it hit me so hard and good next time you just say one word? No. The virgin context is lost. So I swim in it.”

“Your face. My empty. Or your pussy dripping….. Both in one brisk choreography i pulled your hair sorry.” he apologizes.

“It’s ok it didn’t hurt.” I forgive.

“We never hurt. And so as usual in our online sex chat we go for my 2nd i need you for that.”

“Oh we have a usual?” I tease.

And then we go for his second…

To be continued…


Want more? 

This post is #9 in a series documenting cybersex with my favorite lover, and #3 of that one time we went at it relentlessly 16 hours a day for 3 weeks straight:

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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