Bell Whistles SecretsChapter 8 Historical Perspective
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My Toys, His Idea free porn video
First of all, I love you.
And,
I miss you.
I’m down here in the den just now because I want to tell you about the idea you had. The one you put in my head when we spoke on the phone last night. Because last night I spent the better part of four hours, longer than it will take me to write this, in one of the most heightened states of arousal I have possibly ever felt.
Do you remember when you asked me if I was going to watch that MMF porn you gave me? I said, "It's not like the house is empty and " (blurting out the kinkiest thing I could think of) " I can just put on the strap-on and walk around."
Remember?
Maybe not, you were pretty shot, but trust me, I said it.
Don't be too shocked, okay?
I did it.
About twenty minutes after we said our goodnights (cause it took me that long to ready everything I wanted and pile it on the bed in the basement), I stripped down to my shirt. I wrapped the strap-on’s ties around me until it felt as comfortable as it was going to. I put my panties back on then, and a robe. I felt so different. It was so sexy and so shocking. Not like it was mine exactly, but I couldn’t keep my hands off it, either. I couldn’t help wishing I could feel it, too, you know? And I just hung around like that for a while. (Get it? "hung around?" Every phrase I can think of has a double meaning here — tooled around, bummed around, fooled around, screwed around, fucked around! I can’t stop giggling) I messed around (see!) on the computer, smoked a bit of a leftover joint, and a few cigarettes. Read for a while.
Christ!
I was positively aching. And my pussy was so wet that every time I took a step, the lips just slipped and slid around each other, squeezed together like they were behind the flat end of the strap-on. I picked up the slim black dildo and used something improvised and thick and white to slick it to a shine. I delved into the back of my panties and slipped it in. I slipped it allll the way up and in my tightest opening until my ass gripped the base and held it there. I couldn’t move. I was so sure I was going to cum, and I thought …
No! I just got to the best part!
I had an iced-tea and another smoke. I spent several more minutes on the computer. I was dragging out the time just so I could savor the thrill I felt whenever I sat down or walked around or just stood there, swaying and stroking. Every time I moved, the dildo would shift inside me, and the strap-on would tug at my panties in a way that was totally foreign and so compelling. Sorry – I can't describe it adequately. My knees were weak, and my thighs were shaking. Every last cell inside me was vibrating like a tuning fork. It was a struggle not to cum.
And all the time, always just at the edge of my vision, the people on TV were continuously but silently fucking each other in every way possible.
I moved towards the bed and the camera and stripped off my panties. The little black dildo eased out of me and fell to the floor with a thump, and I came close. Soooooo close!
I scooped it up and wiped it off and settled on the mattress.
I took pictures, too. Lots of pictures. When I looked at them later in the night, there were more there than I remembered taking.
It was just me and the camera. And you too, in a way. I imagined you were here, but I felt utterly unrestrained. I could do whatever I wanted, say whatever I wanted, and not even the slightest embarrassment held me back. It was really remarkable. I said things that I’m a bit shocked at the moment to recall. I did things, and I watched myself do stuff on the camera that I’m still sorting out.
I loved stroking it and squeezing and rubbing and groping and flicking. I slid my hands around and around and up and down, over and over, tracing the ridges with my fingertips. I loved the way it felt and was captivated by the way it looked; my eyes were riveted to the place where the unnaturally white tip emerged from my hand’s darker skin. I gripped the shaft hard and pumped my hips, gradually working myself up to it until I was jerking it off so fast it was only a blur on the LCD display.
I said something exceptionally nasty — I'm sorry, but I can’t make myself write it even now, even knowing that it will be read by no-one but you — and came at once, screaming. (Here's a hint: it may have had something to do with another girl, you can supply your own verbs and adjectives.)
I swung my legs off the bed and hung my head between my knees until I could catch my breath, and then I got up thinking that maybe my fun was done. I felt wrung out, I needed a breather — a glass of water, a smoke — but when I stood, my shirt got caught up on the strap-on, and it poked past the hem. It looked plain fucking hot, and it made me feel thoroughly corrupted. As I walked up the stairs to the fridge, I could feel the heft of it. Its weight felt sexier than the sexiest thing I could imagine. It swung and bobbed and occasionally bumped my thigh, and I could only stupidly think, "Fuck me, but that feels good."
Is it really like that? Is that the way it feels for you, too?
(Okay … giggling again here)
Anyway, my intermission fulfilled its purpose: I came back to the bed with enough energy. But my energy level didn't compare to the extent of my hunger for more. Maybe that's why I was a bit quieter this time.
I used the little black dildo to play with my clit and just watched what that looked like on the camera and thought about you watching me, too. I slipped it into my cunt, and just, well, I fucked myself. Fast and slow both but nothing urgent. Random and aimless. I did what felt right, and it didn't matter because it all felt so damn good. Every aspect of it. The camera, the toys, the you who was there but wasn't, the people fucking on tv, the bright light from the overhead, knowing I was being bad.
I used the bed to hold the dildo semi-steady. At the same time, I rode up and down and wished once more that I could get this crazy-wild with you here even though I knew I only felt this crazy-wild precisely because no-one was here.
I wanted to really feel what my hands were doing to the strap-on.
I wanted to straddle your thighs and ride you, not the air.
I wished I could make it cum.
I wanted to use it on you.
Right. Fucking. Now.
Hard.
And I wanted to hear you beg me for it.
And suddenly, without even realizing I was doing it, the dildo changed its position, and I was fucking my ass. Its small hard length was just what I wanted and the way it slid in felt … oh, god! … It felt terrific because I was still all oily-sleek from the lubricant, and there wasn't even the slightest whisper of resistance.
It was ecstasy.
The bed helped me out a bit again, held it where I wanted it kind of, but I had to go slow. The strap-on slid lazily through my palm, but where it touched me, I held it fast and hard against my clit. It was a little clumsy to keep it right there where I wanted it — with the wet lips of my pussy opened slightly beneath the base, with the flattest part of it compressing/rubbing/rotating my clit until it felt like a hard little pebble underneath the sudden give of the toy. It felt this close to too much. The ache inside my empty cunt was torture, brought tears to my eyes.
And maybe I was riding the covers, but it was your cock pushing up and inside me.
So I just let go. Checked out of reality for a sec, I guess. The camera was gone. The porn was gone. The room was gone. If someone walked in right then, I couldn’t have stopped even had I wanted to. All I could think of — all I could feel — was the glide of the dildo inside, and the firm rippled length of the strap-on outside. I could hear myself moaning: a low, constant, monotonous sound. I synced up my body’s motions so that every time the strap-on slipped from my hand, bobbing crazily and sexily for a second before disappearing into my palm again, the dildo reached its deepest penetration beneath me, inside me. Groans and whines that began as soft sounds when the strap-on would pop free of my grip grew into growling noises each time the slim black shaft disappeared up into my ass. Sometimes the growls were words — stark nasty words. Sometimes I commanded you to watch me/stroke me/touch me/fuck me/beg me/bite me. Or maybe I pleaded for more and deeper and harder and faster and now. Just hearing my own voice, it's lust-filled, rhythmic reverberations was pushing me over because I knew no-one listening to me right then could mistake those sounds for anything other than a body on the verge of a huge orgasm.
And it was shattering. When I came, I came so hard, and it felt so intense that I was utterly silent. I wanted to sob, but it got stuck inside my chest. The back of my jaw tingled, and my mouth watered. I felt like I was free-falling, but I was only swaying. I shut my eyes so tight I saw starbursts. I pressed my lips together so hard my teeth left thin metallic-tasting seams that I can still feel as I write this. A super-charged shudder began inside my cunt and rippled out. I felt it everywhere. Then the waves of my orgasm took over, and I opened my eyes to watch my pussy pulsing on the camera screen. My body jerked violently, and my ass sucked on the toy. If it was possible and didn't sound totally lame, I would have combusted.
I fell back onto the bed in a confused, unchecked heap and waited for things to right themselves again.
And after cleaning up and putting away the evidence, I relaxed in the living room chair and examined my wicked pictures and imagined your reaction. Although I'm not sure exactly what that will be when you finally see them or even when you read this, I fantasized that you were shocked but tantalized.
With me curled on the floor at your feet, you sat naked in the dark at the computer monitorand looked at them. I watched your cock grow stiff in its bluish light until the head was dark and huge and pulsing. I watched you struggle not to touch it, and I wished I'd made a video instead of just photos. I imagined licking you and how hot you would taste, all smooth at the tip. How the clear pre-cum would gather into bigger and bigger drops before I could tongue them away. I fantasized I could feel the weight of your sac in my palm as I squeezed and bound and rolled and tickled it. The hard jutting base of your cock was in my other hand, and I encircled it tightly, stroking its curiously loose, silky skin. I wanted your hands in my hair, guiding my mouth down to your cock. Instead of the camera's heat, I could feel your heat warming my hands. I touched between my legs and was not surprised by the wetness I felt.
And I feel it right now.
The camera was forgotten, I was downstairs on the bed again. in my hands I held our larger, flesh-colored dildo. I laid my body prone, face down on top of the rumpled covers with a pillow under me, elevating my pelvis, my thighs open and relaxed. I searched between my legs with the toy. I grasped the base of it with my fingers. I pressed my hips down, wiggling around experimentally until the tip came in contact with the wet opening of my pussy, and it slid in, quick and slick and deep and satisfying. I braced up on my elbows to move my hips in big horizontal circles, adding dips and swells. Like one of those crazy bobsled carnival rides, only in slow motion. A sleepy, sexy fuck.
My already swollen clit rasped against the pillowcase. I listened to the wet sounds of sex as I worked my body, the musical hum of my moans. The dildo slips neither out nor in, not altogether, but it fills me and undulates and circles. My clit flicks back and forth under me. In my mind's eye, I can see it. My pussy, back-lit by the overhead, is raised slightly off the pillow. The dildo casts its shadow upon its checkered fabric. The very tip of my clit, a dark, wet pink, just barely brushes the coarse cotton and arches first right, then left, then back again. I felt it tingle and knew I was close. I circled around one last slow time, pressed my hips down hard into the bed, and the dildo reached deeper inside. I rocked forward and back, telling you to … cum … yes … ohgodyes, cum for me! You did it! I felt the pulsing spurts of you inside me, making me wetter. With a drawn-out whimper, a long, lazy orgasm rolled through me in waves that felt thick and somehow syrupy, and I whispered how I wish I could kiss you right now.
Come home soon, baby. I really miss you.
Hortense
- 17.03.2021
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