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I am a forty-year-old woman on a website which is very unusual for me. How did I find myself in Lush Stories? There are many here who say they found Lush while looking for erotic stories, and others were looking for similar things. Well, for me, it was all because of a simple text I received from a long ago friend.
You might ask, how can a simple text push you to join Lush? To understand this, I have to tell you a little bit about my background. These details are a little hard to tell and embarrassing to admit - but here they are...
~~~~
Hi, I am twenty years old, in college and also working my first official US job. I am a lifeguard at East Los Angeles College, (ELAC). I am in foster care, and very sheltered. I have kissed only two young men my entire life, and I have a group of friends that, though we are all misfits, in our group together we have found our family. We are a big support group for one another and they shelter me and protect me from things that many would say are part of growing up.
Excited, I get my first paycheck and go to the Montebello Town Center in Montebello, California, to buy myself a dress I've admired for some time. The skirt ends above my knee and is my favorite cut, the poodle skirt type. The front cut of the dress is low enough to show a little bit of cleavage but is still very modest while the sleeves are short. It is a bright red color. The store is Contempo Casuals, and to me, it is a big accomplishment as I have never bought myself something new at any mall.
The following day I wear the dress to school, and my friend Ramon (the biker in the group) approaches me and asks about the dress. I proudly tell him about where to buy it and how much it cost. "Go to Contempo Casuals; it is available in black." That's his girlfriend Mimi's favorite color. "Oh, and it only cost sixty-nine dollars," I tell him proudly.
"Mija, please just say seventy dollars, okay?" he responds.
The simple side of me is fine with what he says, but the other side of me, the side that brought me to Lush, wants to know more. And I ask, "Why?"
Ramon smiles. "Please, just trust me, and say seventy dollars.”
Frustrated, I ask again, "Why?"
Ramon puts his arms around my shoulders and says, "Please Mija, just trust me on this. You do not need to know what it is."
I nod at him, and I go my way. However, my best friend Alicia and I are in the same boat, we are both twenty years old and still innocence is our guide. I ask if she knows what is special about sixty-nine, and she says, "No."
Our interest is evident, and together we muster the valor to find out about sixty-nine. We ask one of the guys in our group of friends. Richard only smiles and says, "When you marry or find the right guy, you will know what it is."
We ask the same question, receiving similar answers, from all of our friends. We feel frustrated and in a foul mood because everyone treats us as china dolls. Then, I remember Luis, the pool janitor. He is always telling us that if we need to know something which our friends do not want to explain, we should feel free to ask him. Alicia and I determine we will find out what the deal is with this simple number.
We walk off to the campus swimming pool building, on the north side of the school. It is lunchtime, and the pool is closed. We enter with my key (I am one of the lifeguards) and find Luis in the back room adding chlorine and other chemicals to the swimming pool filtration system.
"Luis, you said we could come to you with any questions we have," Alicia states.
Luis smiles and says, "Yes, I did. Let us go to the office, and we can talk with more ease."
The three of us walk to the office and we sit on the leather couch and begin our conversation.
"Now, what is it you need to know?" Luis asks.
Alicia and I look at each other, and I draw a big breath, trying to muster up the courage. I look back at Luis and proceed to tell him my story about the dress up until this point where we are sitting in front of him.
Luis lets out a loud roar of laughter that resonates across the empty building and I feel inadequate at that moment.
“Okay, okay, I am sorry," he says, trying to compose himself. “Sixty-nine is the act of two lovers pleasuring each other orally simultaneously.”
At the sound of this, Alicia and I turn a hundred shades of red, and perhaps every color in the rainbow. We look at each other, grab our bags and quietly leave the building.
~~~
Now that I have embarrassed myself with this little bit of history, I feel I can tell you my experience here on Lush without hesitation. The example above has been the pattern most of my life. So, at forty years old, I've little experience sexually, much less had an orgasm. However, for now, let's return to how I came to be on Lush Stories.
~~~
A friend of mine and I are texting back and forth. After a few minutes, he texts me a message which I guess has a sexual innuendo but I truly do not know what it is. I text back asking him to explain what it is or what it means. His response is a single "lol" and crickets to chime in with his silence. What his text is, I cannot recall, as it's lost in the jungle of Lush.
So, I Google what he sends me because I am curious and upset that at my age, I still do not know much about sex, innuendos, or double meanings in regular conversations. The screen gives me a few different choices, but Lush is the top one. Reading the synopsis lines of what is on the page, I see that it does have some sexual connotation, and so I open the site. The ads welcome me; alarmed I close the window in a flash and walk away from my desk.
Ten minutes later I return to my computer. I am home alone at night, and I tell myself I should not be ashamed of what the ads promote if I just want to know what my friend texts me. My fingers on the keyboard I Google again with in a different question. Yet again the engine leads me to the same site as the number one choice. Carefully, I think before I open it again. The ads pop up - and I close the site again.
Three days have gone by, and I am agonizing over how cowardly I feel. I go to Lush again; only, this time, I notice there are chat rooms and I stay online. I think that, although the only previous time I have been in a chat room was back in the mid-nineties, I can maneuver myself in them. Someone in there is bound to answer me about this innuendo.
I open an account, sign in and my Lush journey begins.
I click directly on the chat link and read the description of all the places open. We all know the rooms and how they work. I decide to enter a particular room which looks different from the rest; now I know it is because members can open private rooms and host other members.
Greetings are the first thing I see on the screen next to my handle, and so I reply. Cordialities are exchanged, and soon the woman who is talking to me tells me I need an avatar. She is kind enough to walk me through the method of obtaining an avatar. Then she advises me, it would be to my advantage to fill in my bio and a few lines on my profile. I thank her and leave the chat.
I enter another chat room and ask my question. The response by some members I feel is rude as it is just LOL or LMAO. But, as funny as it might be, I want an answer. Someone "whispers" me and asks my age. I state forty. This person responds to my question and I admit it has my ears feeling hot, and I can almost feel the rush of blood to my cheeks making them blush.
After the initial shock of understanding the innuendo, I think about leaving and closing my account. For some reason, I remain. I should not say for some reason: I should just say I feel safe as it is behind the computer screen. Alone, in a new city and having no friends or a social life, I decide to keep my account open.
Soon this site becomes my refuge after a long day of work and school. I venture the jungles of Lush mostly in awe of some of the things I see. I am in shock to I see how some individuals are with their sexuality, open and free. I've never known this feeling. I've grown up very sheltered - as you can see in my confessions above.
Next, I venture onto the Forums, but I find them unfriendly to newcomers. So I find myself comfortably back in the chat rooms. There, I get to know some people and talk to them regularly.
One day, seemingly out of nowhere, he started talking to me with ease, as if we are sitting in the same room and he's a life-long friend. There are times we talk for hours. Familiarity between us helps in opening up to one another, to confide some of our deeper secrets. I see it is easy to fall into this routine, to talk to someone behind a screen. One thing leads to another, and we find ourselves in an online relationship, a thing I would have never thought possible.
In my life, I know I am starving for attention from the opposite sex, and this suits me well as I am really terrified to have a relationship in real life.
Soon after, I go on a trip to Europe and I take my laptop. My visits to Lush continue, nourishing the relationship. We enjoy each other's company without the cyber aspect of things for a long time, but the emotional connection is becoming real.
Emotional connections, I come to realize, are in our mind but tend to be stronger than anything I have experienced; except of course for the first love, when one is young and naive, and believes that happily ever after is real.
While in Europe, I am alone on a train ride. The destination I cannot remember but what I do recall is what is to follow.
I have my private cabin on the train and, after a long day, I shower and I am ready to sleep or, at least, relax for the evening. What comes next transforms me and my life completely. You've probably heard many say mind orgasms are the best; well I can now attest to that being true.
Tonight, this man who has taken up most of my evenings, and thoughts, is helping me stretch my wings. Although we talk every daily, I still feel like we are strangers. After all, we've never met or seen each other apart from pictures we exchanged. However, I feel I can trust him.
"I need you to do what I ask," he says
Skeptical at first, but with trust I reply, "Okay."
I log on to Skype, which is also a new account, and the words on the screen are glowing, staring at me. He's greeting me. Slowly, I type back. I am nervous and tell him I will not turn on the camera. His next sentence eases me. "I did not ask that of you, all I need is to be able to speak to you via voice. Trust me doll."
Nervous, and with trembling hands, I accept a Skype call.
"Hi there, now be a good girl and turn on the headset," I hear his voice over the laptop's speaker.
I do as he asks. "Hello," I say nervously.
"Hello doll." His voice is crystal clear.
My heart is palpitating, and I hold my breath. Many thoughts cross my mind. First, a sigh as his voice is comforting and, although it is not what I expected, it sets me at ease.
"How are you, it is good to hear your voice finally," I say, a little too eager and with a stupid cheesy grin on my face.
"Yours is sultry and not what I expected." I shy away at his words. "But in a sexy way," he finishes.
Nervously, I respond, "I have never done any of this before."
"Shh, trust me," he murmurs, "I have something in store for this first time we talk. Now I won't say much, but I need you to follow my instructions."
"Okay," I say with my heart beating rapidly, both out of nervousness and excitement.
"Undress completely, and I want you in the middle of the bed kneeling," he commands. "While doing that, play this music." A YouTube link comes into view on the screen.
Apprehensive, I do as he asks. My heart is now beating so fast, it I feels like it about to burst out of my chest. My thoughts are flashes without pause; not a single thought stays before the next one is crashing right behind. One question is prominent: Am I going to do this?
"Are you ready?" The voice sounds a little stern.
Settling in the middle of the bed, kneeling, I offer a barely audible, "Yes."
"Good girl." His voice caresses my ears. "Now close your eyes, and allow the music to overcome your senses, listen to every sound."
I close my eyes, letting this music flow through me, and for the next few minutes, there is no other sound. My heart rate is settling down, and my breathing is relaxed. I hear a soft moan come through with the music. With it, I gasp lightly.
"I want your legs slightly apart, your hands on your thighs, palms down. Relax and listen to my voice and the music. Do you understand?"
Although I have never done this, with him or anyone else in my life, I instantaneously answer, "Yes."
"Yes, what?" his voice stern.
My heart races, scared but excited at the same time. I answer, "Yes Sir."
"Good girl. Do you trust me?" he asks.
"Yes Sir." And my head drops almost as an afterthought.
"I am not going to make you do anything other than to listen. So relax, and let go; I need and want you to be free. I will help you set your mind at ease of all the burdens we have talked about in our chats." I can almost feel his voice and his breath on my ear.
My body feels electrically charged; my mind is relaxed, and I feel my heart beats. The music in my ears has a subliminal message in the background. I hear the soft moaning of a woman; the Tantric beat makes my hips want to dance rhythmically. However, I do not hear him. Did I lose connection?
Almost as if he is reading my mind he whispers, "Shh, I am here, feel the music."
My mind settles again, but his voice sends shivers down my spine as if he is tracing his fingertips at the small of my back. I gasp arching my back as my hips rise slightly, and heat radiates from within me. This experience is new to me, so I decide right then and there I will let go of my fears and apprehensions and let him guide me.
The beat of the music changes slightly and the moans become a little more pronounced. The tempo changes from Lento to a more Andante. I hear his breath, and I can feel his smile.
"Remember our first conversation, and think of that fear. It no longer belongs to you, it is mine," he whispers.
His words engulf me with a feeling of strong arms holding me. I feel safe. The music is erotic in my ears, but I have lost my bearings and time. How long have I been doing this?
"Trust me, and now single word answers; you have been a good girl so far. Take your right hand and caress softly around your navel. Do you understand?" His low voice comes through with the music.
With my eyes still closed, I feel as if he is next to me. His voice is a caress which traces a warm touch all over my body, awakening feelings I yearn for, and some I had never felt.
"Yes, Sir," is all I reply.
"Good girl." He is silent for what feels a long time.
The music, the moans, the ecstasy I feel, starts to come from within. My hips start to gyrate slowly, and I feel the moisture seeping. The moans on the music have become my own now, and I do not realize this. I have just let the sounds guide me.
"That's it, control your breathing, baby girl, and hold the explosion, you are not to cum yet," he whispers.
My mind is aware of his words, but I feel as if my body is on autopilot, as if I was not me. A groan escapes my lips, and my hips want more. Spasms ripple through my tummy but I am only concentrating on the moment, and the sounds coming through the music.
"Open your eyes," he commands.
I do as he asks and, on my screen, I see a series of pictures flowing. Some are serene beaches, and in between there is a woman and her partner, and he orally pleases her. The next picture is of a strobe light, and my vision seems almost tunnel like.
"Close your eyes and listen to the music." Again the caress and breath on my ear as I do as he says.
The tempo of the music changes and the moans get much more expressive. Every muscle in my body is in need of more oxygen, and my breathing is erratic now. I do not realize the moans are not from the music - they are mine.
"Shh, not yet little one, not yet," A whisper in my head.
I want to move; I want to let go, to feel the explosion building inside me. I feel the wall behind my cervix contract and expand. The moans are becoming more desperate with the music guiding my hips in a sensual dance. The spasms travel and I feel my womb warm; the wave moves to the frontal part of the wall about ten centimeters in me.
"Oh, Gawd I..." a muffled moan as I am cut off.
"No!" he roars. "Not yet. Hold it."
The sharpness of his denial makes me aware that I was moaning, not the woman in the music.
"Shh, you are doing extremely well little one. Just a while longer." His voice caresses me once again.
I open my eyes without being told, and images are flowing on the screen, almost as if they were on a strobe light and each one flashes every time the light turns on.
Cuffs.
A couple kissing in a desperate hunger.
Hands bound.
Pinned up against the wall.
Penetration.
An infinite sort of pictures are flying through my screen.
And then nothing.
"Close your eyes baby," he commands.
I do as he tells me, and I am very aroused. The music is making my body sweat, and my breathing has a rhythm all of its own. My thighs are soaked, my swollen labia is in need, and my insides pulsate uncontrollably. I am unaware of how long I have been in this trance, lost to my surroundings, and to time.
"Touch yourself very lightly, and tell me about it," he whispers.
My hand seems to function on autopilot, and for the first time in my life, I touch myself as a woman. I feel the heat radiate, the moisture seeping, the softness of my lips. My hand is not my own; I feel it is him touching me. I feel a light trace just over my mouth, and I gasp holding my breath.
"That's it, no pressure and no entering between the lips, baby girl." Just the sound of his voice sends me into a spiral of ecstasy. My heart palpitates as it never has before.
"Tell me, little one, tell me the scents in the air."
The caress of his voice penetrates to my core. I inhale and, with my eyes closed, I tell him of the of the sweet scent I pick up in the room, mixed with a fragrance all of its own. I had showered earlier, and I get the scent of gardenia and vanilla. I describe this to him.
"Good girl, open your eyes again."
I open my eyes and see a few more scenes flashing; the music in my ears continues the tantric beat.
A man, nude, muscular.
A muscle car.
A naked woman.
A fighter jet.
Abs, tight.
A penis.
Flowers.
Firm breasts.
A tied woman.
A couple kissing passionately.
The images flash so fast my mind is on hyper-mode. My breathing is erratic. I cannot contain myself, but something in me tells me to release this tension. The spasms within me are intense, and for the next fifteen to twenty seconds, my body convulses. The moans I hear in the music are loud. I collapse on the cabin bed as my body trembles, and my toes grip the sheets.
"Good night baby girl, go to sleep;" he whispers.
Without another sound, he disconnects from Skype. The only sound is classical music. I feel exhausted, out of breath, and I drift off to sleep.
You might ask, how can a simple text push you to join Lush? To understand this, I have to tell you a little bit about my background. These details are a little hard to tell and embarrassing to admit - but here they are...
~~~~
Hi, I am twenty years old, in college and also working my first official US job. I am a lifeguard at East Los Angeles College, (ELAC). I am in foster care, and very sheltered. I have kissed only two young men my entire life, and I have a group of friends that, though we are all misfits, in our group together we have found our family. We are a big support group for one another and they shelter me and protect me from things that many would say are part of growing up.
Excited, I get my first paycheck and go to the Montebello Town Center in Montebello, California, to buy myself a dress I've admired for some time. The skirt ends above my knee and is my favorite cut, the poodle skirt type. The front cut of the dress is low enough to show a little bit of cleavage but is still very modest while the sleeves are short. It is a bright red color. The store is Contempo Casuals, and to me, it is a big accomplishment as I have never bought myself something new at any mall.
The following day I wear the dress to school, and my friend Ramon (the biker in the group) approaches me and asks about the dress. I proudly tell him about where to buy it and how much it cost. "Go to Contempo Casuals; it is available in black." That's his girlfriend Mimi's favorite color. "Oh, and it only cost sixty-nine dollars," I tell him proudly.
"Mija, please just say seventy dollars, okay?" he responds.
The simple side of me is fine with what he says, but the other side of me, the side that brought me to Lush, wants to know more. And I ask, "Why?"
Ramon smiles. "Please, just trust me, and say seventy dollars.”
Frustrated, I ask again, "Why?"
Ramon puts his arms around my shoulders and says, "Please Mija, just trust me on this. You do not need to know what it is."
I nod at him, and I go my way. However, my best friend Alicia and I are in the same boat, we are both twenty years old and still innocence is our guide. I ask if she knows what is special about sixty-nine, and she says, "No."
Our interest is evident, and together we muster the valor to find out about sixty-nine. We ask one of the guys in our group of friends. Richard only smiles and says, "When you marry or find the right guy, you will know what it is."
We ask the same question, receiving similar answers, from all of our friends. We feel frustrated and in a foul mood because everyone treats us as china dolls. Then, I remember Luis, the pool janitor. He is always telling us that if we need to know something which our friends do not want to explain, we should feel free to ask him. Alicia and I determine we will find out what the deal is with this simple number.
We walk off to the campus swimming pool building, on the north side of the school. It is lunchtime, and the pool is closed. We enter with my key (I am one of the lifeguards) and find Luis in the back room adding chlorine and other chemicals to the swimming pool filtration system.
"Luis, you said we could come to you with any questions we have," Alicia states.
Luis smiles and says, "Yes, I did. Let us go to the office, and we can talk with more ease."
The three of us walk to the office and we sit on the leather couch and begin our conversation.
"Now, what is it you need to know?" Luis asks.
Alicia and I look at each other, and I draw a big breath, trying to muster up the courage. I look back at Luis and proceed to tell him my story about the dress up until this point where we are sitting in front of him.
Luis lets out a loud roar of laughter that resonates across the empty building and I feel inadequate at that moment.
“Okay, okay, I am sorry," he says, trying to compose himself. “Sixty-nine is the act of two lovers pleasuring each other orally simultaneously.”
At the sound of this, Alicia and I turn a hundred shades of red, and perhaps every color in the rainbow. We look at each other, grab our bags and quietly leave the building.
~~~
Now that I have embarrassed myself with this little bit of history, I feel I can tell you my experience here on Lush without hesitation. The example above has been the pattern most of my life. So, at forty years old, I've little experience sexually, much less had an orgasm. However, for now, let's return to how I came to be on Lush Stories.
~~~
A friend of mine and I are texting back and forth. After a few minutes, he texts me a message which I guess has a sexual innuendo but I truly do not know what it is. I text back asking him to explain what it is or what it means. His response is a single "lol" and crickets to chime in with his silence. What his text is, I cannot recall, as it's lost in the jungle of Lush.
So, I Google what he sends me because I am curious and upset that at my age, I still do not know much about sex, innuendos, or double meanings in regular conversations. The screen gives me a few different choices, but Lush is the top one. Reading the synopsis lines of what is on the page, I see that it does have some sexual connotation, and so I open the site. The ads welcome me; alarmed I close the window in a flash and walk away from my desk.
Ten minutes later I return to my computer. I am home alone at night, and I tell myself I should not be ashamed of what the ads promote if I just want to know what my friend texts me. My fingers on the keyboard I Google again with in a different question. Yet again the engine leads me to the same site as the number one choice. Carefully, I think before I open it again. The ads pop up - and I close the site again.
Three days have gone by, and I am agonizing over how cowardly I feel. I go to Lush again; only, this time, I notice there are chat rooms and I stay online. I think that, although the only previous time I have been in a chat room was back in the mid-nineties, I can maneuver myself in them. Someone in there is bound to answer me about this innuendo.
I open an account, sign in and my Lush journey begins.
I click directly on the chat link and read the description of all the places open. We all know the rooms and how they work. I decide to enter a particular room which looks different from the rest; now I know it is because members can open private rooms and host other members.
Greetings are the first thing I see on the screen next to my handle, and so I reply. Cordialities are exchanged, and soon the woman who is talking to me tells me I need an avatar. She is kind enough to walk me through the method of obtaining an avatar. Then she advises me, it would be to my advantage to fill in my bio and a few lines on my profile. I thank her and leave the chat.
I enter another chat room and ask my question. The response by some members I feel is rude as it is just LOL or LMAO. But, as funny as it might be, I want an answer. Someone "whispers" me and asks my age. I state forty. This person responds to my question and I admit it has my ears feeling hot, and I can almost feel the rush of blood to my cheeks making them blush.
After the initial shock of understanding the innuendo, I think about leaving and closing my account. For some reason, I remain. I should not say for some reason: I should just say I feel safe as it is behind the computer screen. Alone, in a new city and having no friends or a social life, I decide to keep my account open.
Soon this site becomes my refuge after a long day of work and school. I venture the jungles of Lush mostly in awe of some of the things I see. I am in shock to I see how some individuals are with their sexuality, open and free. I've never known this feeling. I've grown up very sheltered - as you can see in my confessions above.
Next, I venture onto the Forums, but I find them unfriendly to newcomers. So I find myself comfortably back in the chat rooms. There, I get to know some people and talk to them regularly.
One day, seemingly out of nowhere, he started talking to me with ease, as if we are sitting in the same room and he's a life-long friend. There are times we talk for hours. Familiarity between us helps in opening up to one another, to confide some of our deeper secrets. I see it is easy to fall into this routine, to talk to someone behind a screen. One thing leads to another, and we find ourselves in an online relationship, a thing I would have never thought possible.
In my life, I know I am starving for attention from the opposite sex, and this suits me well as I am really terrified to have a relationship in real life.
Soon after, I go on a trip to Europe and I take my laptop. My visits to Lush continue, nourishing the relationship. We enjoy each other's company without the cyber aspect of things for a long time, but the emotional connection is becoming real.
Emotional connections, I come to realize, are in our mind but tend to be stronger than anything I have experienced; except of course for the first love, when one is young and naive, and believes that happily ever after is real.
While in Europe, I am alone on a train ride. The destination I cannot remember but what I do recall is what is to follow.
I have my private cabin on the train and, after a long day, I shower and I am ready to sleep or, at least, relax for the evening. What comes next transforms me and my life completely. You've probably heard many say mind orgasms are the best; well I can now attest to that being true.
Tonight, this man who has taken up most of my evenings, and thoughts, is helping me stretch my wings. Although we talk every daily, I still feel like we are strangers. After all, we've never met or seen each other apart from pictures we exchanged. However, I feel I can trust him.
"I need you to do what I ask," he says
Skeptical at first, but with trust I reply, "Okay."
I log on to Skype, which is also a new account, and the words on the screen are glowing, staring at me. He's greeting me. Slowly, I type back. I am nervous and tell him I will not turn on the camera. His next sentence eases me. "I did not ask that of you, all I need is to be able to speak to you via voice. Trust me doll."
Nervous, and with trembling hands, I accept a Skype call.
"Hi there, now be a good girl and turn on the headset," I hear his voice over the laptop's speaker.
I do as he asks. "Hello," I say nervously.
"Hello doll." His voice is crystal clear.
My heart is palpitating, and I hold my breath. Many thoughts cross my mind. First, a sigh as his voice is comforting and, although it is not what I expected, it sets me at ease.
"How are you, it is good to hear your voice finally," I say, a little too eager and with a stupid cheesy grin on my face.
"Yours is sultry and not what I expected." I shy away at his words. "But in a sexy way," he finishes.
Nervously, I respond, "I have never done any of this before."
"Shh, trust me," he murmurs, "I have something in store for this first time we talk. Now I won't say much, but I need you to follow my instructions."
"Okay," I say with my heart beating rapidly, both out of nervousness and excitement.
"Undress completely, and I want you in the middle of the bed kneeling," he commands. "While doing that, play this music." A YouTube link comes into view on the screen.
Apprehensive, I do as he asks. My heart is now beating so fast, it I feels like it about to burst out of my chest. My thoughts are flashes without pause; not a single thought stays before the next one is crashing right behind. One question is prominent: Am I going to do this?
"Are you ready?" The voice sounds a little stern.
Settling in the middle of the bed, kneeling, I offer a barely audible, "Yes."
"Good girl." His voice caresses my ears. "Now close your eyes, and allow the music to overcome your senses, listen to every sound."
I close my eyes, letting this music flow through me, and for the next few minutes, there is no other sound. My heart rate is settling down, and my breathing is relaxed. I hear a soft moan come through with the music. With it, I gasp lightly.
"I want your legs slightly apart, your hands on your thighs, palms down. Relax and listen to my voice and the music. Do you understand?"
Although I have never done this, with him or anyone else in my life, I instantaneously answer, "Yes."
"Yes, what?" his voice stern.
My heart races, scared but excited at the same time. I answer, "Yes Sir."
"Good girl. Do you trust me?" he asks.
"Yes Sir." And my head drops almost as an afterthought.
"I am not going to make you do anything other than to listen. So relax, and let go; I need and want you to be free. I will help you set your mind at ease of all the burdens we have talked about in our chats." I can almost feel his voice and his breath on my ear.
My body feels electrically charged; my mind is relaxed, and I feel my heart beats. The music in my ears has a subliminal message in the background. I hear the soft moaning of a woman; the Tantric beat makes my hips want to dance rhythmically. However, I do not hear him. Did I lose connection?
Almost as if he is reading my mind he whispers, "Shh, I am here, feel the music."
My mind settles again, but his voice sends shivers down my spine as if he is tracing his fingertips at the small of my back. I gasp arching my back as my hips rise slightly, and heat radiates from within me. This experience is new to me, so I decide right then and there I will let go of my fears and apprehensions and let him guide me.
The beat of the music changes slightly and the moans become a little more pronounced. The tempo changes from Lento to a more Andante. I hear his breath, and I can feel his smile.
"Remember our first conversation, and think of that fear. It no longer belongs to you, it is mine," he whispers.
His words engulf me with a feeling of strong arms holding me. I feel safe. The music is erotic in my ears, but I have lost my bearings and time. How long have I been doing this?
"Trust me, and now single word answers; you have been a good girl so far. Take your right hand and caress softly around your navel. Do you understand?" His low voice comes through with the music.
With my eyes still closed, I feel as if he is next to me. His voice is a caress which traces a warm touch all over my body, awakening feelings I yearn for, and some I had never felt.
"Yes, Sir," is all I reply.
"Good girl." He is silent for what feels a long time.
The music, the moans, the ecstasy I feel, starts to come from within. My hips start to gyrate slowly, and I feel the moisture seeping. The moans on the music have become my own now, and I do not realize this. I have just let the sounds guide me.
"That's it, control your breathing, baby girl, and hold the explosion, you are not to cum yet," he whispers.
My mind is aware of his words, but I feel as if my body is on autopilot, as if I was not me. A groan escapes my lips, and my hips want more. Spasms ripple through my tummy but I am only concentrating on the moment, and the sounds coming through the music.
"Open your eyes," he commands.
I do as he asks and, on my screen, I see a series of pictures flowing. Some are serene beaches, and in between there is a woman and her partner, and he orally pleases her. The next picture is of a strobe light, and my vision seems almost tunnel like.
"Close your eyes and listen to the music." Again the caress and breath on my ear as I do as he says.
The tempo of the music changes and the moans get much more expressive. Every muscle in my body is in need of more oxygen, and my breathing is erratic now. I do not realize the moans are not from the music - they are mine.
"Shh, not yet little one, not yet," A whisper in my head.
I want to move; I want to let go, to feel the explosion building inside me. I feel the wall behind my cervix contract and expand. The moans are becoming more desperate with the music guiding my hips in a sensual dance. The spasms travel and I feel my womb warm; the wave moves to the frontal part of the wall about ten centimeters in me.
"Oh, Gawd I..." a muffled moan as I am cut off.
"No!" he roars. "Not yet. Hold it."
The sharpness of his denial makes me aware that I was moaning, not the woman in the music.
"Shh, you are doing extremely well little one. Just a while longer." His voice caresses me once again.
I open my eyes without being told, and images are flowing on the screen, almost as if they were on a strobe light and each one flashes every time the light turns on.
Cuffs.
A couple kissing in a desperate hunger.
Hands bound.
Pinned up against the wall.
Penetration.
An infinite sort of pictures are flying through my screen.
And then nothing.
"Close your eyes baby," he commands.
I do as he tells me, and I am very aroused. The music is making my body sweat, and my breathing has a rhythm all of its own. My thighs are soaked, my swollen labia is in need, and my insides pulsate uncontrollably. I am unaware of how long I have been in this trance, lost to my surroundings, and to time.
"Touch yourself very lightly, and tell me about it," he whispers.
My hand seems to function on autopilot, and for the first time in my life, I touch myself as a woman. I feel the heat radiate, the moisture seeping, the softness of my lips. My hand is not my own; I feel it is him touching me. I feel a light trace just over my mouth, and I gasp holding my breath.
"That's it, no pressure and no entering between the lips, baby girl." Just the sound of his voice sends me into a spiral of ecstasy. My heart palpitates as it never has before.
"Tell me, little one, tell me the scents in the air."
The caress of his voice penetrates to my core. I inhale and, with my eyes closed, I tell him of the of the sweet scent I pick up in the room, mixed with a fragrance all of its own. I had showered earlier, and I get the scent of gardenia and vanilla. I describe this to him.
"Good girl, open your eyes again."
I open my eyes and see a few more scenes flashing; the music in my ears continues the tantric beat.
A man, nude, muscular.
A muscle car.
A naked woman.
A fighter jet.
Abs, tight.
A penis.
Flowers.
Firm breasts.
A tied woman.
A couple kissing passionately.
The images flash so fast my mind is on hyper-mode. My breathing is erratic. I cannot contain myself, but something in me tells me to release this tension. The spasms within me are intense, and for the next fifteen to twenty seconds, my body convulses. The moans I hear in the music are loud. I collapse on the cabin bed as my body trembles, and my toes grip the sheets.
"Good night baby girl, go to sleep;" he whispers.
Without another sound, he disconnects from Skype. The only sound is classical music. I feel exhausted, out of breath, and I drift off to sleep.
Makenna
- 17.07.2022
- 7
- 0
- Category:
- Masturbation
