Thursday, March 10, 2011

#67, March 10, morning

A few days ago in the evening, I was chatting back and forth with S as I was making dinner. I don't know what he was doing in between messages; working I suppose.

It was one of those conversations that wasn't going to end in a climax for any of us. Most conversations are like that with us, we both just enjoy the feeling. I love the contrast between a throbbing arousal and those everyday chores, moving between the dishwasher and the fridge. As soon as I was finished cooking I had to go, but I remember being in a good mood all evening.

This morning, inspired by the heat of last night, we continued the fantasy from the other day, but this time over the phone. I was really turned on by hearing his voice, but I wasn't really about to come. I could tell he was though... and when I heard his moans of pleasure, there was a sharp, sudden shift inside me, like a new gear. I love, love, love that feeling of both relief and tension, when I know I'm going to come. It's like riding a bike up a steep hill, and then suddenly you reach level ground... and your tired body knows that moments later, you'll let go of the pedals and just enjoy the downhill ride.

He heard it, and started talking faster, in a whispering voice, driving me on... and a minute later, I came, convulsing, panting, moaning.

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