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Hot Messaging

“Getting u into spain. Under levels of radar on radar. Coz my cock needs your pussy. And i want to read for my eyes only what u write b4 m9. Is that really too much to ask?” he opens with this hot message in our latest session of hot messaging. I’m already hot.

The line. Crossed so expertly in our dance. We point to it. Laughing at it from the other side.

“No, but be careful what you ask for. You know I’ll do it. You just gave me the slightest nod.” I warn.

“What I expect.” he makes it clear that he’s intentional.

“It’s really what makes you more of a peer than anything. Brazen disregard for caution in the face of desire.” I point at the line again. He just sends an emoji of a spider. Even this is a hot message. Everything charged.

We exhaust all options and exemptions for travel from the US to Spain during a pandemic. Peruse the permutations. None stick out, but there is a long discussion of Llívia and what it would take, and wherein he admits he would even cross a border for me, if only a sorta borda.

I learn some Spanish and French history that I never would have, this way. Europe bores me.

But he doesn’t.

We talk of gender. Sexuality. Gender roles. Dominance and submission. Roleplay. And then he breaks through our theoretical discussions into hot messaging:

“I would tie your boy tie around your neck blindfold you insert vibrating toys in you and then leave you to squirm until u had enough then sat on my face and then rode me until you helped like in that audio. I would bring you on revisit to everywhere your sexuality has been and then laugh say thank you and thank you kisses and hugs. And you would do same for me. Looking u in eye at ur orgasm. Fucking hot.” he types. I want to say “hot message”, but…

“And on Saturday?” I tease.

“And yes please a tour of your chronology through sex. What you liked when you first liked. What you didn’t. Things you tried and failed to do. What you loved best with someone else. What you’ve never tried. I want that tour of your body. Reenactment of your sexual development. And the future, too… since you know where you are.” I continue, referencing his statement that he knows where is in time and space.

“Great grandfather acknowledged writer and poet. Keeper of an orchard. Survived.”

“Hotter than ever. Feed me fruit. Still horny?”

“Yes. Horny. Now. And at 80. Age changes nothing.”

We slip away from hot messaging back into discussions of dominance and submission.

“I have desire to dom you sometimes and to switch and be so by u. I do. Think i might know how to switch with you.” he types.

“Mostly I just feel vanilla but that the opportunity to explore means there’s a lot in the category of ‘don’t know what I don’t know.’”

“Then i just want vanilla. U took words from my mouth.”

“Mirror.” I smile.

“3 mins I am home.” he tells me.

“I am used to associating power with cruelty” I admit. “I do not make a good Dom ever, but with you I’d be scared for extra reasons.” I further admit. I don’t react anymore to him telling me he’s sending me a hot message on the street, when with friends, wherever it is that he goes.

“Not good association. It is play. That is all. I like switching roles because it explores so much of oneself and an Other.” he types. And then switches to voice. “I just got home. I just walked through my door. Are you alone?”

“I am.”

“One mirror is wonderful, but two or three mirrors is even better. So wherever you look you see a part of yourself. What are you wearing?” he asks.

“I’m wearing a loose black t-shirt that says ‘I heart LA’ on it over my breasts. And a pair of Thinx. Period underwear. And nothing else.” I say, giggling awkwardly. “Pretty much t-shirt and underwear are what I wear when I’ve decided not to get dressed for any reason.” I continue.  “What are you wearing?” my tone more sultry.

He sends me a photo. He’s smiling. He looks better than I thought.

“Blue check shirt which I just took off coz its hot humid.”

“You’re so hot.” I say.

“Burgundy trousers which i am also taking off. I wash my feet. I get naked.” He sends a photo of the trousers and the belt that holds them up. Though I’m usually into his hot messaging more than his photos, this one does me in. 

“That jury rigged belt is hotter than any dick pic. I am so tuned to narrative. Your clothing is sexy.” It’s true. The photo shows me a whole story. That he’s lost weight, that he’s frugal. Handy.

And fucked up. Dangerous. Unstable. Hot. All this in a belt.

“Well i am naked now.” He types. 

“It’s like in the middle of the… it’s 3:30, 3:23 actually, where you are. Shouldn’t you have been naked long ago?” I ask.

“I was at my friends house and it probably would have been a little bit inappropriate to be naked at his house. So now I’m naked, and, I have to do my best… I have to do my best to make you come and not fall asleep the way I do” he says, gruffly. My cheeks flush. Hot message.

“You’re allowed to fall asleep. I mean, you’re allowed to do whatever you want, but *I* give you consent to fall asleep, during, after…. I don’t know about before.” I trail off into laughter.

“I’m thinking about your body, because I remember what you look like naked, but I only saw you naked for just under an hour and, even then, I only really saw you naked when you got up, after we had sex, for a cigarette.”

“Soft kisses on your lips and upon your face and your neck and your shoulders, back to your lips. And that wonderful moment taking that loose, baggy t-shirt off of you, and your breasts touch my chest, and we kiss. And feel that heart rate, just speed up, a little bit.” he says.

I find glory in that I can hear the Irish in him at “touch” and “up”. 

“I love weighing your breasts in my hand, touching them, licking them, smelling them, squeezing them against me. Love exploring the muscles in your back behind your shoulderblade as I do that. I love returning to those lips for those kisses. I love looking into your eye.” he continues.

“And so I’m looking at you, with fear, and admiration, and desire. And kissing you, and wondering now as soon as I get a taste of reality how I will manage to compartmentalize the fantasy. Cuz now I’m thinking about your actual body, and about how I don’t know it.” I muse.

“It would take days, months, years, to just explore you with my hands.” I continue.

“I am your height. I’m thin. I’m lean. Wiry. I’m pale. Stronger than I seem. But I have a weakness and fragility, especially in my ribs. My cock, when hard, bends slightly towards me and slightly to my right, which is your left.” I hear him breathing harder and know he is stroking himself. The pressure is on for me to create hot messaging and the sounds of his arousal fuel me.

“All that can be seen in a different mirror because I just slid between your legs, you were facing me, we were sitting upon the bed. And now my head is between your legs. You’re sitting on my face. And you’re looking in the mirror. And all you see is my head. Forehead perhaps. My nose, as it sometimes searches your clit. My tongue back there. Ah, Your smell. Your wetness. My hands on your hips, then your thighs, down to your knees, behind your knees, your calves.” he ends with a sharp intake of breath which sends shivers of hot desire through me.

“My thighs are shaking because of your tongue, and it’s very difficult to hold myself up, but I can’t fall cuz I’ll hurt you.” I say.

“No you won’t fall, you’re sitting on my face. You’re grinding into my face. You’re just going to lean forward, and then the angle will be lost. You rest upon your hands. And you have that mirror in front of you. You’re beginning to glow, and sweat. And I move out from under you.” he says.

“Your voice and your body and those two photos have left me so speechless that I feel useless. I’m not really doing anything to you. I’m sitting here trying to absorb you. My eyes are broken. I mean, I don’t think so. But I don’t see you as skinny, I see you as hot. The first time you told me you were skinny, I told you ‘I like skinny guys, I don’t see them as skinny, I see them as hot.’ 

I like the shape of your bones. I like the way they feel, and I like being able to see them. Just like the rest of you they dance. You’re one of the asymmetricals. 

And so what now I’m looking at myself, in the mirror. Not so asymmetrical, I mean, I am, I am, I am, but it’s not as easy to see. I guess you could see my right breast hanging lower than my left. And if you look closely you’ll see that my right hand isn’t attached the way that my left hand is, because it was re-attached by a nine and a half month pregnant surgeon. I wonder if you remember that I am tattooed and it is not symmetrical. And certainly if I’m staring at myself in the mirror, I’m looking right at it.”

I send him a hot photo of my tattoo.

“I love it when my tongue and fingers play with you from behind as you look at yourself in the mirror. And you’re beautiful.” he says. 

To be so wanted by someone I want so much, isn’t that the definition of beautiful? So yeah there’s a lot of thoughts. That’s what you get for putting me in front of a mirror. Even your hot message and hot tongue can’t distract me from that.” I say.

“That’s when from behind you the tip of my cock slips inside your pussy and it just stays there, just the tip. And I look into your eyes, in the mirror. I very, very gently, gently scratch your back, from your shoulders down to your thighs to your buttocks. And I gasp, because god ur tight.” he says. “It’s just the tip. I’m not going to give you any more than the tip. You’ve compartmentalized me. It’s for you to take more in… or not.”

His breathing makes me so hot, wet and so full of lust that I really do go speechless. I do better in writing, but today we are all voice, and I’m flailing.

I just want to fuck him. In real life. I want more than hot messaging.

“You feel so big there’s nothing else. Just being filled. No patience. Break me, give it to me, all of it.” I break.

“Slow, slow strokes, god you’re so tight, and so wet. I love how you look at yourself and you look at me. And then I decide to take the t-shirt that you took off and I put it over my head, and I hide my face a moment, so you can’t see me fucking you, you don’t know who is.” he says in a supremely hot message.

“You bring out the fiercest desire in me, back to back with the sweetest love. Just waves, and the way you breathe. It’s in everything you do… I want to kiss you.” I say, sweetly.

“Roll over. Kiss me. Let me grab your hair and you grab mine. Kiss me. Kiss me long and deep.” 

“I can’t stop thinking, and so I’m using you, your tongue, your cock, your mouth. I’m using you to pull me to you, to pull me to present. I’m using you to be with you. Hanging onto you, my arms. My pussy. Gripping you. Trying to keep you from pulling out. Doesn’t work. You’re stronger than you look.” I say.

“I thought I was leaning on top of you, kissing you, long and deep, and what I thought was how your wet pussy tries to seek out my cock and get it back inside you. Wow. Ah, that’s what you do. It slides in so, so, ahhh there are your kegel muscles.”

“My pussy knows what’s best for me.” I say. I sound like a thug.

“Your legs just closed behind me so I’m not getting away from you. Ah, I love that moment when I grab your legs and fight that strength that keeps me where I am and then push them slightly further apart to change that angle, be where…. I am so happy with where I am anyway.” he gasps. I love it when he’s so hot his breathing is ragged and his tongue moves through his words.

“And it has all been even, even, even strokes. I’m sort of proud of myself for being so slow. Ah but I want to speed up.” he moans. Again I hear the Irish in “up” and the rattling from him jerking himself off faster as he says that he’s fucking me faster and remember that it is him, it is this one, this oh so hot messaging one that matches and outdoes my crazy. That just has made this hot messaging session all up on his own, and doesn’t hold himself to anything.

Both of us with lives and egos as large as we deserve. What rare pomposity. What nonsense that we intersect. Are we allowed this?

“Slide my hands between us in that diamond shape. Grip your cock with my thumbs as it slides between us. Try to get you to slow down, even when you want to go faster” I say through smiling, and playing with myself, and breathing heavily.

“I want you on top of me. I don’t care how you are on top of me, whether you lie flat upon me or whether you sit or how you sit, but I want you on top of me.”

“Fine. I begrudgingly get on top of you, as long as you give me your cock.” I grumble, still smiling.

“It’s your cock.” he laughs. “It’s all I am now. My head is at the end of the bed, it’s back off the edge of the bed, so I can see myself in the mirror, but I’m upside-down. That means though when I return to kiss you, my back arches, and when my back arches my stomach muscles clench, and that causes a slight, a slight throb. Ahhhh, but how you move, how your breasts move, how you look.” he says. 

His hot message cuts deep in me. I’m trying not to show it. I’ve had others call me beautiful, but only some of them I believed. The way he talks, I know that he believes it, and I know that he knows how much I want to hear it. And I know that he knows that I know both that it’s authentic, and that he wants to give me what I want. He slips so easily into pleasing me. We create pleasure.

“But if it’s fantasy, let’s ignore the way we’re shaped, which I already know. You would not allow me to sit backwards on you. Reverse cowgirl. Looking at that mirror.” when I speak to him my accent gets even more USAmerican. I know it gets him hot.

“I’m just your cock.” he says. “You fuck so well. You fuck me so well. Oh. You fuck me so well. And yeah, I love seeing your back, and i love you looking at yourself in the mirror, and god you fuck me so well.” he moans, his voice shaped by the motion of his wank.

“Oh that caught me deep. Those words that you don’t know they will until you do. I just want to feel you come. That’s why I’m fucking you. I love the way you come.” I say, with a nasty tone in my voice. I span the range with him and once the shy breaks sometimes I go all the way.

“You could make me come talking about Gulf States then instead you say these lines out of some sort of fantasy diary that I’ve kept for lifetimes. I have to learn new words cuz I can’t just keep telling you that you make me so fucking hot. Or that you’re perfect. Cuz, it just doesn’t do it justice.

I want to fuck you on the border of two countries. And at sunrise, and sunset, and at the new moon, and at the full moon, and at high tide, and at low tide. I want to play with everything that we can. Okay enough mirror inspired thoughts.

I’m just going to play with myself now while you fuck me, please. Just stare in your eyes. And come for you.” I say, breathing hard.

“Good. I want to see you come. I need to see you come. You know I come for you three times at least each time. You know you exhaust me. I know you come for me. I want to see you come, I want to see your hands move. That’s why I fuck you.”

“You’ll see me come. Today, you’ll hear me come.” I say, leaving him hot message after hot message…

“When you come, I will come too and then I will drip out of you.” he moans. His fucktalk is still hot at time of this transcription.

“Yes, yes… “ and then I moan.

“It feels so good to edge towards my orgasm, and see you touch yourself. Slide inside you, and then slide back out, and you look at me, and touch and… then I go back in because I’m just your cock, I’m just your cock. That’s all I want to be.” he says. 

I wonder if he knows how much being my cock means.

“I need your cock,” I say and then I come. For him. Out loud.

“I need your pussy. If I could be your cock I just want to fuck you, fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck oh my god, uh, fuck, ah you feel so good.” he says.

“Ohhh listening to that, you’re going to make me come again.” I say, moaning from my gut through another mind-blowing orgasm

And then he sends me the sound of him coming. I can hear him jerking off, breathing, moaning, and coming. I’m still using that hot message to get myself off. So unhindered, so hot.

“Kisses.” say, smiling.

“Kisses.” he says, gasping, “Kisses. I have turned into a wet soaking mess, my body is covered in sweat, my hair is wet. I have emptied. Feel so good. So, so good. Wow I’m sweating a lot because it’s  hot, and it’s summertime. Ahhhh, the sound of our breathing, the smell of our sweat. The smell of our sex.”

“Let’s take a shower” he says, through a drag on a cigarette. “I’ll wash you. I want you to wash me. Let’s cool down just a moment. I’m already greedy for that pussy and that mouth, and that body, oh that sapiosexuality. Yup. Does it for me.” he says.

“I am so sweaty, and so wet. And I love it when you feel good. When you feel good, music pours out of you. And it’s good music. And I could really use a shower, though I do kinda wanna bathe in your sweat. For days. But I also really wanna wash you.” I consider. “As usual, in order to know you. I also want to put you to bed, because it’s almost sunrise where you are and that’s nuts. Yeah. And hot.”

“It is not sunrise yet. I have an inbuilt instinct for such things. Sunrise, and sunset. And I can still see where I live.”

Hot Messaging

“There’s this other feeling, it’s like a… I don’t know how to describe it. Uncharted territory. It’s almost like orgasm, but almost like shame. It’s a different kind of hot feeling, not a blush, but in that category, but it’s new.” I admit.

“Sunrise shall come. Barcelona faces sunrise rather than sunset. And the shower is a good idea. Put me to bed. Ohh, you want to fall asleep holding me, but I have a feeling you’re going to end up sucking my cock.” He laughs, and then whispers

“I want you to. Want you to make me hard again. I want you to put me in your mouth and make me hard again.” he whispers this hot message into the microphone and my clit jerks at hearing it.

“I have to wait until my mouth recovers from glee to do that, give me a second.” I say, smiling. “My favorite way to suck your cock right now is just to hold you in my mouth and pretend that I’m not doing it. And see if you get hard. Not moving. Just lazily sucking. But, I’m given away, I can’t pretend, because there’s a mirror. And so even though I’m innocently, slowly suckling your cock, pretending that I’m not giving you a blowjob, that I’m not going to, you can see in the mirror that I’m dripping wet, and that sucking on your cock is turning me on. And so, you know I’m not going to stop.” again, me, leaving a hot message with the sultry voice.

“I love seeing you suck my cock in the mirror. But I wonder, am I hard enough to fuck you again? Wow, but your mouth feels so good, and yeah, you’re dripping. And it feels so good. Ohhhh. Let’s lazy fuck again.” he says. 

“Yes. Yes. Brilliant idea.” I say through a smile. I don’t tell him that my bf Tommy Boom-Boom from my early 20’s used to call it “sleepysex”, and that it’s been that long since I’ve had a partner suggest it. And here he is, older than I am.

“What position do you want to be fucked in? We always move around anyway, but what position do you want to start?” he asks.

“Decision. I’m actually thinking way too hard about this. How about I just start on top of you, straddling you, with you seated, with my arms around you and my hands in your hair.” and then I laugh “there was like a kaleidoscope of positions that would not stop rotating for minutes. So. Picking one was like pulling the lever. Trying to get the jackpot.”

“Yup, you made my cock hard.

Then he sends me a few empty messages and I whine about it disturbing the hot messaging.

“I don’t take it well.” I moan. “I take your cock well though.” I type.

“Going to put pillows underneath you and raise you up so your back is arched. I’m going to hold your legs below your knees with my elbows, and then, I’m going to go so deep inside you, because that’s where you want me to be.” he moans.

“Yes, because that’s where you want to be.” I say, breathily. “I want you to fuck me so deep. And slow.” I command. 

After a few more empty messages we switch back to typing more trustworthy hot messaging.

“I have u on pillows on your back your body arched your knees held by my elbows and my hands on your arms you are caught in my embrace as i thrust slightly quicker and deeper inside you. Yes you take my cock well your pussy is perfect. Good girl I want to fuck so much. U are so we one hand free on your clit and labia. U I think enjoy fucking me and i really like fucking you. I feel alive, a man I feel your wet heat your need. Sweet sweat pours off my face. But i don’t stop.” he says.

“Nothing but your cock will get me off again. Still sneaking a hand under to play with my clit but it’s too worn out it’s the inside part that will set me over the edge. Not g-spot. Clit. Please fuck me steady.”

“I can’t stop but I can change position until I am grinding against your pelvic bone. Steadily. I enjoy how you edge me to explode.”

“You might even get my hands free. Be the only person other than me to do so. That’s what my cock would do. And you’re just my cock. Again.” I type. And then I switch to voice and send a hot message. “I miss your voice. I miss your cock. So tired of being quiet…” I say, quietly.

“I just came prostate cracking explosion. Wow. I am alive. Am shaking.” he types.

“I wanna see you shake.” I say.

“Le petit mort. Now i am curl up sleepy. Wow. Brain stems flooding through body.”

“Good. I am a good girl. I help. And I came thrice. I am off to obsess about routes and pathways of all kinds until one rises up to meet my feet

“U are a good girl. Why would you ever think otherwise? I came twice one kind of multiple extended thing. Yumyums. Miss u. Thank u for these times. This hot messaging. X.” he types

Fucktoys, hot messaging, and sweet, intimate lovers. 

We’re back at it the very next day….


Want more? 

This post is #14 of a series documenting hot messaging with my favorite lover, and #8 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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