Hello. Have you ever read a story that begins with this word? I am sure that you will have read many stories about a man and a woman. Have you ever read a story that is about you and me? I am equally certain that you haven’t, so please let me write one for you.
I hope that you are at home, for that is a much more intimate place for us to be together. So if you aren’t at home and you can wait then please do so. Come back to me when you are somewhere quiet and relaxed, because, as I write this, in my imagination that is where we are. You and me.
I would like to open our story by asking you to do something for me. I would like you to take your index finger and rest it gently against your lips. Keep it resting there with your lips together. Now let the very tip of your tongue slip out between your lips and touch your fingertip. Move your tongue just a tiny bit from side to side so that you are licking a very small part of your finger.
I am imagining you doing this right now and this does two things for me. It allows me to write your obedience into our story. Are you an obedient woman? In our story you will be, for me. Not a helpless submissive, I couldn’t stand that. If you are looking for me to dominate you and punish you then I think we need to call the whole thing off before it ends in tears and one of us doesn’t get hurt. There: now I’ve shown you a glimpse of my sense of humour. If you liked it this is a good sign that we will work together well. As your man and my woman; your writer and my reader.
The second thing you’re achieving with your compliance are just the beginnings of tingling arousal within me. Are you still licking? Have you made the tip of your finger wet from your tongue? Do you like the idea that you are arousing me? In my writers eye I am there now, watching you. Your action makes me think about your lips, your tongue and your finger. These are all parts of you that are very erotic to me. You are pleasing me by allowing me to instruct you on what to do with erotic parts of your body. Do you want to please me? I very much want to please you. With my words and with the sexuality within me that I want to share with you through my words. A writer always wants to please the reader. But what happens when the writer asks the reader to return the favour? Shall we find out? Together?
Now, feel l I am here with you. You have already allowed me into your body through my words. Your imagination may be wandering now, because I am explaining how I want our story to be rather than getting on with telling you the story. Patience my darling. I am only trying to please you my way rather than your way.
Have you ever allowed a man to do this? To sit with you, not touching. Telling you what things he wants you to do. Watching as you do those things for him. Deriving his sexual enjoyment from your own sexual pleasure as you follow his instructions.I will show my arousal through my words.
My words. Strong, hard words. Typed by strong, hard fingers. Yet I touch these keys so softly, for I know I am touching you. Right here. Right now. I am pausing now, in my typing. Just resting my fingertips on the keys which make the words that are inside you. I will touch my own fingers now to my man’s lips. Before we continue I will moisten each one with my strong, coiling tongue. The tongue that wants to moisten you and taste you.
Fingers, lips, tongue. If you are reading me as I want you to then you have already given me your lips, your tongue and your fingers as I have given you mine. Now open your mouth, part your sweet lips for your writer. For your man. The physical act of opening your mouth pleases me. It is an act of readiness, receptiveness. You are showing me that you are ready to receive me. If I had things my way you would be able to read my words with your mouth as well as your eyes. And I would ask you to let my words slide inside your open mouth and caress your tongue as you consume me. Perhaps you can allow the idea of this. Open your mouth and allow my words to enter you.
I am coming inside you now. Your mouth is a place of private, intimate heaven for me and you have allowed me into your warmth and your wetness. Hold me in there. Take your finger and touch these words of mine that are inside your mouth. Slide your finger over them as they nestle against your tongue. Suck hard upon your finger as you slide it back and forth for me. I am doing the same, as I write. It is a very sensual act. And for me, hugely symbolic. I am hard for you now, as you suck on your finger and on my words. You are licking me. Sucking me. Into you. You can sense how hot and wet your mouth is for me. Watching you do this, even in my writing mind’s eye, makes me very hard and urgent for you. I ache for you. I ache to be inside your glorious, sexy mouth.
Fingers, lips, tongue. Are you thinking of other parts of me? I am thinking of another part of you. To me a woman’s mouth is the most erotic part of her. A kiss is more intimate than anything else. A woman’s fingers and hands are expressions of her beauty. Holding hands and kissing. I hold hands when I make love. Do your other men do this with you?
Now take your warm, wet finger from your glorious mouth. Slide it down to where I want it to be. Oh, the thought of you doing this is almost too much. Slowly, please. Let me watch you linger before you stroke yourself. It is torture for me to be constrained to watch you through my words. Do you enjoy my pain? Have you done this before? Have you made a man watch you as you touch yourself? For me it is an exquisite mix of pleasure and pain. I yearn for you. Yet I can only have you through my words so my words must try to be good enough for you.
My words want you. Stroke yourself harder. Take your finger and bring it to your lips. Taste yourself for me. Lick your salt sweetness. Have I made you very wet? I want to make you very wet. Your wetness is a gift to me. Share it with me as you caress. Slow your rhythm to mine. More slowly than you would want. Let me build you gently with my languid strokes so that you make more of your heavenly juice for me. Make yourself slippery for me. Let my words glaze your fingers with honey. Do not rush me. Am I building you now? You are building me. My desire to be inside you is as hard as a rock. How I long to slide myself inside you and feel the comfort of your warm nectar as it coats my long, hard desire.
Now your stroking is my stroking. I am moving inside you now, my stroking harder and faster. You are breathing more quickly as my rhythm pulls you gently towards your inevitable release. Feel the tight tension of my wanting inside you. You need me to release you. Soon.
Perhaps you want to close your eyes. To fantasise. Stay faithful: keep reading me. As slowly as you need to. You have let me stroke you and fuck you with my writing. You have made me watch your arousal. You have allowed me inside you. You must let me stay with you as I make you come. You must come with your eyes open.
As you read me. As you obey me.
I want to make you come. I want you to give me your wonderful, precious orgasm. Your gift to me as my woman reader. Let me rub my words deeper and deeper into you. Let me hear your soft cries and your wetness as your fingers slide back and forth under my bidding. I am bringing you closer. You will give yourself to me soon. My need for you is very great. I want you to open your lovely mouth for me as my needing, masculine words fuck you harder and harder. With my wanting words and your sexy fingers. It is agony for me to watch you. Release me now from my need to make you read me. I am writing your orgasm. Your beautiful, sensual release.
Keep reading me: fuck me with your eyes as I fuck you with my words. I need your eyes open for me. Look at me. As you come. Come now, for me, with me. Come hard as my words enter you one by one and fuck you and fuck you. Let me fuck you. Let me make you come. Now. Harder.
Fuck me so hard.
Now let my words wrap you in tender warmth. Let me hold you with them as we come softly to the end of our story. I will fade slowly as you float inside the sensual beauty of our sexual union.
No more words now. Only feelings. Only feelings.