I have a regular client that I really enjoy talking to. He’s smart, funny, and unabashedly kinky. He books an hour and we talk, our minds touching on our kink-triggers, forced bi, strap-ons, cuckolding, etc, until we hit on something that works for us both and then we roll with it. We were on a roll and had a great scenario going when, forty minutes in, his phone system crashed. He call back, it crashed again. He sent an apology email, and I emailed him back the remainder of the fantasy, from where we’d left off:
I can see us in that room, surrounded by people watching. Watching the girls on the sybians, watching the person thrashing on the bed under the sensual onslaught of the violet wand. Watching us. I can hear the flogger, feel the weight of it in my hand, and the thud of the straps against your ass. It is a loud thwap-y flogger with foot long, 1/4″ strips. It doesn’t sting much, it doesn’t hurt much, but its heavy enough to make you sway forward with every impact. Your mouth is open, your eyes moist. You are bent over at the waist and a chain hangs from your nipples. I can see my beautiful friend Darien with his athletic body and his woman’s mouth kissing you, pumping his arousal into you as he strokes his cock with one hand and tweaks the chain in the other. Your ass is pink, even the crack of your ass, which I’ve teased with the flogger. I drop it and rub oil into your ass, massaging the tender skin, rewarding its resilience. I stroke my strap-on, too, lubing it up, and then I gesture for people to come over, telling them to hold you. Hands touch you everywhere, stabilizing your legs, holding your torso. Hard cocks and smooth pussies and warm hands everywhere, cradling you. And then I push into you, carefully and yet ungently. The thrust is hard enough to push through and your body tenses but the hands hold you. You can do nothing but moan into Darien’s mouth as I take what I want from you. My hands grip your hips and I’m pushing into you, pushing slowly and relentlessly forward, and your legs start to tremble, don’t they? Your knees want to buckle but there are hands holding you, holding your knees locked, holding your cock, milking your cock as I stroke in and out of you. Can you feel the rub of the dildo against your prostate? Can you feel the fluid leaking from your cock, like a tap turned on to a slow running drip? Darien stands and puts your hands arond his hips and his cock is there before your face. His beautiful cock, glowing, pulsing. Suck it baby. Suck it for me. Suck it as I fuck you, drain it as the hands drain you, the hands fighting to tease your cock, your poor cock, so hard, so ready to explode. Let go, my sweet little pleasure slut. Let go, sink into those hands, sink onto that cock, drink his cum my little slut, as you fly apart into a hundred bits of sensation. Cum as I stroke your ass, love, stroking hard and fast, pounding it, pounding you, my fingers pinching those pretty pink welts, sending jolts of pain through you. Cum for me baby. Cum for us all. Cum!
It can be fun to combine the phone with text or email sessions. And after a week of trying to work out an appointment, I wanted to make sure he got what he wanted.
