A few days before the end of 2020, he responds. Things haven’t been well for him. He lost friends. He disappears again until February. I howl at the moon without him.
One morning I wake and there are sexy messages from him on all our shared networks that simply say:
“Want You.” I type back. He continues.
“I want you. Under a malaria net. Opening your lips with my tongue. Stopping Waiting. Until you tell me to do more. Until you let me tell you do what. Just those licked lips. Invitation. Insight.”
“Waking by the roosters I’m a bad girl (such a bad girl) and reach for my phone (reach for you) immediately. And so you catch me (catch me) in that brief set of seconds where I straddle planes (straddle you). And push (push) notifications from two networks land as stereo whispers “Want you” (want you) in left and “I want you” (I want you) in right. Arms legs and lips spread. Reaching for it. (Reaching for you). Sweat beads, laughter, holding, letting go. Comforting net. You excite me.” I type.
And then on February 21, 2021 – 6 months and 5 days after we did before, we send a series of sexy messages like only we do.
“Still want you.” he says.
“Here. Take me.” I reply.
“I want to look into your eyes. Want to not filter all this vibration through physical. Words fail me. Sounds. Breath. All that extra stuff. Tired of being trapped behind a screen.” I pull my hair at having to send this through sexy messages. Still. I want to be with him.
“Oh you. I want u.”
“I don’t know what to do with your desire. Pig in mud.”
“I’d rather a goat on mountain side. But if u want to play piggy in the mud… i play along.” he says.
“That makes me smile. I don’t know what I want. I am adrift.” I admit.
“We all are.”
“I want too much of you too quickly.”
“Be patient. We are patient.”
“I am not. I rip batteries out of ticking clocks. Was actually marveling at how patient I have been for you. Today. But it will take me a while to cool down. I might be drama. When I see you. Which I will.” I promise.
“I hope and yearn you are. The idea of seeing u again.” he moans.
“Losing my mind. Lips parting, clit tingling and you’re just staying stuff.”
“Of being with and talking face to face with u again… edges me to desperation.” he says. I take his words too seriously.
“You’ve ready my diary (that I don’t keep), again. Saying perfect words that make me heave and sign and touch myself. Everything else disappears. I love how much you scare me, move me, please me.”
“Why Coz u know i lick ur clit? Coz i part and suck those lips? How my tongue enters and flicks inside your hottest sex? Coz i need to fuck u? Please u?” his sexy messages tickle my brain.
“Because you are you. And because I deserve your cock.” I assert.
“Make u come again & again?” he promises.
“Yes Yes Yes.”
“Do i deserve your pussy?” he asks.
“I want it.”
“It begs for you. Wakes me up in the middle of the night. Finding some private spot to try to reassure it. Call your name while I make myself come. But it just makes it worse. Lust.” I send sexy messages.
“Each angle of entry & girth of hot held grip. Lust is a sinful word for attraction. Xxxyz”
“I need to tease you. For my self esteem b4 i fuck u hard. Do we sleep after? Embraced in sweat and fluid??” he asks.
“You are the ultimate tease. Blinking in and out of existence itself. You’re the best tease. And yes. Sleep. And eat. Fuck. And talk. And embrace. Cry. And laugh. I am so fucking wet right now.” I admit.
“And i am can go hilt high deep your thighs angled. Your boobs quaking. My cock designed for u.” he builds.
“Can’t squeeze you anymore my muscles spent, cunt just soft and snug. Your cock fills all the desperate need. Fills me.”
“Pores breathe you in. Hands on your back. Kneading stroking. Holding on. Flip a pillow round your ass to pull you tighter. Deeper. Slower. Kiss you.”
“You stride. U manouvre. U yoga pose upon my cock.”
“I was in yoga class when your sexy messages came through. And I was thinking of you. Back arched and energy up the deep frontal line. Pelvis to crown. Bearing down on you like I could strip your dick. To feel the friction. Sweating. Fingers grasping uselessly, unable to find purchase as the sweat pours off us and makes us too slippery to touch. I fucks you and I sweat. So that I sweat. Impatient me again. How I want your tongue and lips and slow circles and peaks and waves, but how I can’t help but ride you with aim. To make you come when really I don’t want it to be over. But I want to see you come. But this is fantasy. So I can have it all. All the slow curlicues and the fast, hot, skirt jacked up, pounding addiction to your release.”
“I need you to come again and again before i deserve to come & empty all i have wherever u want. Where do u want me to come? In you? On you? Which part of u takes my pent up desperation? I hold and hold until i am told.”
“I want to taste you.” I yearn.
“Then your mouth it is.”
“I come around your better when you hold still. And so if you need me to come again first you can stop. And let me come with you inside me.”
“So i stop. Stopping is good.” he says.
“And that pressure of your head on that front wall of my pussy, that perfect designed for me shape to bear down on as I stroke myself and kiss you. And the earthquake of my orgasm. Short, sharp, loud. I need you to come. To kiss me so wet. Grab my head and hair. To feel you give everything. Nothing held. Broad and flat tongue curled around you. I’ve never tasted your come. I’ve never swallowed you.” I mourn.
“Xxxyz u never swallowed my cum… i think it is salty and prefer ur squirt. More sugar than salt.”
“It’s been over 6 months since we did this with sexy messages. Fuck me, I rmemeber the exact date, August 16, 2020. And I remember the exact date we fucked in real life August 28, 2019. I am awkward and dripping wet now. And I’m holding back. Because I don’t want all of you but I want to give you all of me, but I’ve learned that you will disappear. That the taste of you in my mouth and throat (I prefer salt to sugar) will last longer than your attention. And I’ll go back to memorizing our chats and regurgitating them for hundreds to see like that somehow is air. And I’ll be sitting here waiting for the next time. Waiting for your sex. When will he?
I want to feel hot jets of you sting the back of my throat and slide to my stomach and I want to feel my clit licked and rubbed to much it smarts and my cunt pounded so that when, inevitably, we wake from sleeping in juice and sweat and we are full from feeding each other and my eyes are dry from crying and my stomach spent from laughing – I’ll have something to remember you by. As you return to the things that tie you and I, I float along to the next country.”
The shock of his words. The depth. I send him a photo.
“Those are my begging furrows. You’re the only one I’d beg for. I want you. Still. Always. Deep.”
“Oh u so have me.”
“<3 that’s music… now I have to go finish watching My Octopus Teacher because I said I would even though the guy makes me want to hurl things at the screen and I don’t know why so many could be captured by the tale of an entitled South African prick and his mastrubatory time wasting and I am bracing myself because I’ll be there in exactly a week. And I know it will be worse than anything I’ve seen on this particular journey, and that I will be so White.”
“I want to be your tentacles.” I grin from ear to ear at this turn of sexy messages.
“Now I’m grinning. Want you on me like hundreds of suckers. I would scare away the fucking sharks and go ape shit full American violence to keep you from losing an arm even if you had 7 more.”
“I want so much lick u to u come once twice my tongue pierces your hot inside. My body prepared does what it is designed to do. Slide inside you. Rub inside you. Move you every angle you accept and want. I need your pussy. I see it dripping open invitation. All i want is place my masculinity on and in your femininity. Come on me please.”
“Again. And again. And again. Endless reservoir. You’re invited. Ur okay. You’re the best. Your masculinity is exactly what I need. I am terrible at being sexy and feminine until you flip the switch. THe only penetration I’ve had in months is from nasal swabs. But I remember. Doe-eyed. Needy. Delighted and delightful. And so wet, dripping. Soaking. Inviting. Allowing.”
“I really do not know how to respond to that except urge to flip around spread your buttocks, lick your lips to clit and squeeze my cock into u.”
“I like looking over my shoulder at you watching your cock disappear inside me. Like it when you don’t realize I’m watching you because you’re watching my pussy take you. Watching your cock come out wet and taut and satin sheen.”
“Taut satin sheen glistening with you. Write on. I need read sexy messages.”
“I love it from behind. Especially when I don’t know it’s coming. When you snuggle up to me in big spoon and I arch and wiggle just hoping you’ll be hard. Get hard. Take my hope in hands. Squeezing me. I’m seeking you out.”
“How u read my mind!? Your kips in my hands. In my claws In my need. In my Spring time fertility. Grasping a goddess. Pushing. Thrusting without moment’s consideration. Left right.”
“Yes ruddy playful dark corners and sharp edges and yes the way you open me.” I grin.
“All I do is thrust on your wet pussy.”
“All I want is for you to thrust in my wet pussy. Pump me. Dive your cock into me. Swivel hips clock, counterclock. Waves through spine and cracked open now I forgot who I am but your cunt.”
“I don’t care how you take me or i take u. Want to see u come. I want to feel you come kegel muscle deep looking me in the eye. So much to ask. So much to expect. And u astride me. Be my cunt. Be my cunt.” he begs.
“Yes. I do. I will come around you a dozen times. Each different. Tides Weather. Each for you.”
“I will thrill each time. I want u to come. Again again.”
“You’re the one that lets me ride ragged, shameless. Flutters. Volts. Scream your name. Come with you shallow and still. Come with your cock, no hands, just to make you be the only one.” I beg.
“Fuck me. Take me. Use me.”
“Yes. Flywheel momentum. Using you… Oh the mind reading.”
“I want you too.”
“Using you for my pleasure.”
“Your body. Ur body. Ur body. Intelligence. Mind. Ur awesome sexuality. I want to fuck u.”
“Your music. Your depth. You empathy. Consciousness. Your cock. Your arms and mouth and eyes. Fucking you is my favorite thing to do.”
“I cannot forget your natural tight pussy how it held me. I cannot forget our first kiss.” he says.
“Me neither. Hollywood.”
“I love that you remember. Remember those feelers. Who is he? And then that surprise. Those mushrooming explosions of connection. The expansion and contraction. Even now, today, the same. I drape myself around you and hold you inside, then retreat afraid. Like sex. Just sex.”
“How would I forget. Yes.” he says.
“I never showed you this one because I thought you’d be mad at me: Barcelona”
…. Moments pass…. No sexy messages.
“I sleep now. Tangled with you. Beautiful weave.”
An hour and a half later he responds.
“I fell asleep nothing to be mad about. I want to fuck u.”
Five hours later he sexy messages again.
“I want you to fall asleep fucking me.”
“My head on your boobs pelvis hooked to yours?” he asks
“Yes. Breathing easy.”
“Leaning forward on your mound grinding left right forward back your hands on my small butotcks. My hands on your hips. Face between your boobs back arching each time your kegel contract?”
“Arms wrap around this human deep inside me. Stirring me. Squeeze with kegel. Squeeze with hands knead your ass feeling your cock rocking me awake.” I get into the sexy messages.
“Stiffer harder my blood system flows into one part of my body. My balls ache so full of anticipation. Boys have kegel muscles too.” he says.
“Halt to feel you twitch. To feel each inch. That conversation of clenching. Push out just to pull you further in.”
“I lick u. Nose and tongue in your heat. Before sliding back inside my humble weight upon you. My mouth kissing yours. My hands where are my hands?” he asks.
“Tucked under my ass. But not pulling me apart that hurts I don’t like to be stretched. Pushing just slightly together, down towards my thighs. Squeezing labia around you. Driving me. And where are mine?” I ask.
“Where do u want them to be? I am where I want to be. As u like it. U are fucking me asleep”
“In your hair. Head massage.”
“U are going to hold me when i shake and come. Where i wanted them. Holding me skull to cock.”
“At crown. At atlas. Your hair smells like us. Density differences spark currents. I want to hold you when you shake and come.”
“U hold me.”
“Rise and fall.”
“I need to see u come.”
“I slip a finger between us, find a spot you haven’t already worked can’t believe there still is any. You grind me. I bear down hard and try not to shout in your ear. Tense and shake.”
“Tense and shake. Relax and gasp. I am deeper inside u i am out of u just tip. Drinking in watching u. Back inside. Beginning to lose control.”
“Yes please come inside me. Whispering ‘yes’.” I type “‘I’ve been waiting years for you to come.’ Hot, wet. Reaching slick wet hands down around you. Getting out of that long line of women who’ve never found your prostate. Bribing my way to the front of the line.”
“Think u found it.”
“Pressure. Puse Massage. Circles. Lines. Learning. So wet. Sounds of breath and wet. Feel your body tense and wiry. This the part I’ve been waiting so long for. Where you stop holding on. Where you give it to me.”
“U drain me where u want.”
“Deep inside. And back to sleep…”
“Curled against your breasts and curves. I love fucking u.” he praises.
But wait, there’s more!
How we met: The European Lovers: Hookup
The first time: The European Lovers: Barcelona
This post is #19 in a series documenting sexy messages my favorite lover, including that one time we went at it relentlessly 16 hours a day for 3 weeks straight:
2: Your Cock
4: Your Cunt
5: Shower Sex
8: Empty Me
12: 20% Battery
13: Online Flirt
14: Hot Messaging
15: Side of Shibari
20: Hot Sexy Stories
21: Erotic Stories
Favorite Lover as Muse: