Feeling a little deflated having to put the Dv thing to bed, I still had some pictures left over. Where can they go? I look cute I want to send them to someone. Split second thought I could send another to DV? Changed my mind as he would most likely reject my advance with a bite. Who then? No new muse in sight line. Not even one in the horizon. It's late so anyone in my time zone?
I do know of someone vacationing in my time zone. He texted me a few days ago said where he would be asking if I could call him. What the hell. Do it. One picture sent. Head shot. Black and white. No big deal. It's Sunday 2:30 a.m. Along with asking if he can talk Monday. Response one minute later. He asks if I can talk now. A smile forms. I'd really like to talk to him. Told him couldn't talk on the phone that late but Monday during the day I can call him. He mentions he was at a familiar location getting some late night burritos. He's just hanging out and wants to talk. "Call me, use my friend's number.", he insists. I explain it's not the number that's issue. The location is my hometown so that isn't the problem with the house. It's the time. I can't explain why I called my hometown late or early in the morning. Fuck. However, I'm vibing hard. So I send him a text. Send me a pic. With the burrito? Yes. Then I remember our after sex sessions of late night drive through food. Replenishing the energy spent fucking after his shows and to soak up the alcohol I drank while watching him perform. I'm not texting until he responds. Can you fly out here now? Now I want a pic of it in the burrittoooooooooo. Coming. No me coming. Not in the burrito. I added a few laughing/crying emojis because I didn't mean the way it came out in the texts. Not phased, he just responds. Call me. Twenty more minutes of hot and hilarious texts I now really want to hear him. I remembered the app I got because of Dv. Told him about the app; yes he has it and doesn't know how to work it. Good we can figure it, just call me. A second later, I can hear him smile now. Wow, nice to hear him. Memories are flooding. I have to include him here. Chemistry and passion and the way he can just look at me sweetly and my thighs would have an urge of their own to want to straddle him while I kiss him deeply. He has this way of getting at me with just his, "Haaay." With his head cocked sideways and a sly smile; it's somehow magical that the extra emphasis on "a" renders me helpless to naughty thoughts making me wet. So yes, he belongs here. But, now what to call him? I thought of the nickname I used for him, but oddly I want to refrain from such personal details. I smile as it is made abundantly clear to me. I give myself, "Mr. Pickle". Oh my God, this is so fucking awesome how perfect this fits him. And strangely enough it has nothing to do with sex or his cock and will never be disclosed as it would surely give him away. Although if I had told him I was writing about him using a made up name, he'd laugh and immediately get it. We reminisced. Old times. He said he missed my eyes and the smell of my hair. I'm outside speaking so I do not wake the house. It's trying to snow with some freezing rain and somehow I'm kept warm in a tshirt, thin draw string pants and flip flops. He's talking. He's sorry for fucking it up with me. He just wants to hug me. Be near me. Conversation lightens up again. I say something that makes him laugh. Then he says something and now I'm laughing and out of the blue he adds, "I miss making you cum." I swallow hard and catch myself from my buckling knees. My stomach full of butterflies drops. Feels like hundreds of soft fluttering vibrations jolting my pussy awake. She woke and is ready for abuse. As excited as I am it's starting to pour and my puppy outside is now trying to wake the neighbors and my house. I hate having to go back in, when I'm wanting to play. I need him to make me cum. The thin tshirt starting to get soaked is now clinging to my erect nipples. I'm now shaking, unsure from which more, the talk or from the freezing cold? I'm smiling hard now because this feels so good. Two extremes. Freezing and yet warm from sexual arousal, I wanted it to continue. Without thinking I ask, "What's your face doing?" Laughing, he says, "I'm smiling." I'm thinking I wish I could be near his smile, kissing it or having it buried between my shaking thighs. "I'm glad. I am too. But I'm now fucking cold and really have to go, the house may be up soon." "Can I talk to you tomorrow morning or evening?" he softly pleads. The garage light is casting a grey blue light in the back yard. Standing outside of my small studio, I can see my reflection in the french doors. Hair wet, shirt soaked and tits erect I respond, "I'll see what I can do." I can see what my face is doing. Smirking, because I've already planned to carve time for me later that night; talking to him.
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May 2023
AuthorReleasing some steam. You should want to know me, not just a woman with pent up passion. Oh yea and you should start this from the beginning. |