I watch his hand glide, slow and tight, all the way to the base of his cock before sliding up again, and when he pushes his swollen head against his own snug hold, I can see in his pleasure-slack eyes the deep black of desire. I know, as he looks into the camera, seeking my gaze, that it is the warm wet hug of my pussy he is thinking of.
“You weren’t kidding when you said you’d be tight,” he’d said, all those months ago, gasping as I snugged my vaginal muscles close and hot around his thick cock.
I smile at the memory of Then as my breath quickens, Now, my aching channel grasping, throbbing for the feel of his thick penetrating my wet.
Soon. So soon.
I slip one finger between my flushed lips, teasing only to the first knuckle and rubbing gently against the base of my G-spot as he changes his strokes to short shallow fucks into his fist, stimulating just his sensitive tip. I clench against the sensual onslaught of memory heightened by anticipation. I know what that feels like, I think as I watch him push. I know the massaging thrust of his head stretching my entrance, forcing past the tight barrier, stroking again and again and again against my swollen tissues as I rub my clit, seeking desperately to both find and fight release.
Yes.
I know what that feels like, and that is exactly what I am feeling now. Again. Still.
The friction of my fingers and the fuel of my imagination combined with the spark in his eye when he sees I am close to cumming sends a jolt of heat to my core. I feel my climax like a cyclone, gathering speed behind the clenched muscles of my belly and shooting lightning outward, making my skin sizzle, my legs shake.
My eyes roll back in my head and my vision goes white, the sight of his expression locked in my mind as I fall out of time. I know nothing in that moment except his name, and I repeat it again and again and again, holding it as my tether to reality as I fall over the edge into bliss.
When I come to, my blurred gaze finds focus when it meets his, and I roll on shaky limbs to kneel before the camera. I raise up, tightening my thighs, and lower myself again in straddle position so he can see all of me. The thatch of damp kinky hair at the apex of my thighs pulls a choked sigh from his lips, and the act of raising and lowering myself in front of the camera like this makes me think of riding him. I lean forward as though that is exactly what I am doing, twisting my torso as I bend, cupping my breasts, one at a time, offering them up for his pleasure.
Something he wrote recently – You appear before me – pops immediately to mind, and I am, now, exactly as he described when he penned his piece: Sweaty. Slick. Tight. The thought makes me smile, and I let my hands roam across every inch of skin his eyes rake. It is only moments until his breath catches under this visual assailment, and as I watch, enraptured, his body trembles under the force of his own release.
It is such a simple pleasure, this. Watching. Seeing.
Being seen.
I say good night, sleepily sated, and later, when I send my daily prayers of gratitude into the universe, I grin to myself after the usual acknowledgments and say…
“Thank you for Skype.”
I like the concept of saying prayers to the universe. Seems to chime with the lapsed Catholic in me. Sadly my only Skype interactions are a weekly dose of talking to my distant parents.
I believe our thoughts have power, moreso when spoken aloud. So I try to practice positivity as much as possible, and am truly grateful for all the good things my life has brought me. My concept of God is likely quite different than others’ and I avoid religion, well, religiously. But pray, I do. An attitude of gratitude and all that jazz. 🙂
As for the parental units: Mine don’t know I have Skype, and I intend to keep it that way. 😉
Fascinating insightful composition with illuminating hyperlinks.
I do not consider myself have a vast and varied sex life, though one has read for some 50 odd years, but what you describe about watching the male masturbate is something that several lady friends I know state that it is something they derive enjoyment and pleasure in doing.
Considering the amount of pornographic material of women masturbating then is this a new genre for pornographic purveyors to establish?
Masturbation porn doesn’t do anything for me, though it certainly exists. My pleasure in watching is derived from the greater sexual connection: He is stroking his cock *for ME* – looking at me, talking to me, thinking of me. He’s doing it for MY pleasure, to fuel it, cater to it, guide it, sate it. That is HOT.
Watching someone I don’t know? A porn actor, a stranger? Meh.
But with a partner? Oh. Yes. Yes yes yesyesyes…
Unf. 🙂
Dear Feve,
Yes one definitely can understand if one is looking on as their male partner masturbates.
Is there an element of power, subliminal domination (you) submission (him)…
I think your viewpoint re observing unknown male masturbating not being attractive or a turn on would be a view many females would go with.
Recollecting the conversations which come to mind it probably was that they were observing their “significant other” at the time.
😉 Happy Skyping 😉
Yes, there can be an element of power, though with me it’s not overt. It’s more a “tapping into” his desire to please me, which is so very sexy. 🙂
I don’t make a habit of sexy Skyping, but when the occasion warrants…
*wiggling eyebrows*
Yes please! 😀
Dear Feve,
My adopted home city theme song from 1972 may sum it up blossom
The first line is loud as this was taken at a live show in an inner city pub/bar but after that it is tolerable.
A “Shelia” is an Australian female….
However Joy arrives, thank heaven for it. 😀 🙂
Amen. 😀
There is a time when the visual pleases us, yes. And then, if we are fortunate enough to find a connection who puts the “for Me” in the play time, the pleasure is visual, emotional, mental, physical and that, my friend, is the best O.
I am a big believer in the “for ME.”
Stroke your cock for me.
Edge for me.
Cum for me.
OR
No. Don’t you dare. You need to hold back. Wait until I see you – your orgasm is for ME.
Yes. Yesyesyes… 🙂
Muy delicioso!
Finally, someone who understands ….
I thought of you when I posted this.
Yes, I most definitely understand. 😉
[smiling from ear to ear]
🙂
The voyeur and the exhibitionist were made for one another. I’ve never tried sexy skyping. Actually I keep a piece of paper over the camera unless I’m using it. Stranger sex through a computer is safer than stranger sex in person. Beware of hackers in both venues. Computer hackers might steal data and infect your computer. People hacking in person might have something more serious than a cold and could infect you personally.
I may have strange sex, but not with strangers. 😛
I use my tablet for Skype. It’s about the only thing it’s good for.
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