“Fuck, I’m so hard right now.”
That’s how it all started. He was clearly making a joke, but in that moment my mind began to wander, and I couldn’t help but imagine his slick cock sliding up and down the full length of my plump breasts. I involuntarily began to ask questions to myself about how I would feel if he inserted his fingers into my mouth without consent ot grabbed a feel of my inner thigh. And I imagined the nuanced sensations of having him bend me over the couch at his house, so that he could pull apart the layers of fabric that covered my bottom to reveal the treasure trove that is my wet pussy which resided inside.
He was hung I knew that much. Having been friends for 7 years meant that you had plenty of time to get to know the intimate details about each other. There were times when he was horny and he would call me up to sort of vent indirectly. Other times when I liked a certain porn video I might send it his way. At first he never really replied back but then he became more open and started to share how he enjoyed my taste in porn and so forth. Even admitting to me once as a joke that knowing I had fingered myself to the videos I shared with him made the videos themselves a whole lot hotter. Which implicitly meant that he was thinking about me while he stroked his cock. I knew it, he knew it, but we both never acknowledged it directly. But that’s fine, because I’m writing this since recently I’ve been thinking about him too.
I don’t know why, maybe it’s the quarantine horniness getting to me but recently every conversation I’ve had with him tends to start on something normal but leans into sexual. Not that I’m complaining. I think the fact that we still maintain the “we’re just really close friends” facade keeps it exciting. I don’t know.
Recently, I confessed to him I had trouble masturbating and getting wet, and honestly he was a really good listener. I mean he made some jokes at first, but then once he realized I was being genuine he offered to give me a few pointers, which I obviously said yes to, and taught me things that I low-key did not even know about my own body.
I mean I’ve known him for seven years and I just found out day before yesterday, through our conversation, just how well read he is when it comes to sex and masturbation. It’s probably why five minutes into the conversation I had no qualms just speaking freely without any filters. He understood periods, natural libido and even how important foreplay is when it comes down to getting kinky, and the best part was he told me how excited he was that we were finally openly talking about it now. That’s when he made the joke about how he was “so hard right now”, since we were now comfortable enough to talk about it so nonchalantly. That had me laughing out loud, and so before we ended the call, I decided to mention that my poor panties had also gotten wet whilst we spoke, and thanked him for “helping” me out. The only difference was that I’m quite certain he was joking, whereas I wasn’t.
Like I said before, my mind slipped, maybe knowingly, maybe unknowingly. And now whenever I get a little free time, the only thing that gets me wet and willing enough to masturbate is imagining him. Thankfully, I haven’t devolved into looking at pictures of him yet, but I’m afraid at this rate I might start on that next week. Quite frankly I haven’t seen him in so long because of quarantine, which is why my latest theory is that maybe it’s hearing his voice that does it for me. He has a burly but smooth voice, one that’s endearing and trustworthy but imposing at the same time. And whilst I’m writing this, I can imagine him calling me one day to instruct me on how to toy with my perky pink nipples or to restrict me from touching myself downstairs, even though he’s fully aware I’m agonizingly wet and soaking up the very bed sheet he has me spread out on.
God I don’t know what to do no more. We talk about our fantasy crushes every now and then. And its clear he’s not into me the way I’m into him. Or maybe he just does a really good job of hiding it. Either way when we talked about it recently, I couldn’t help but notice that I became a little jealous when he mentioned the names of other girls. Obviously, he didn’t think I was ugly, but I really hoped maybe he might blurt out my name amongst the list, even as a joke.
And because the ommission of my name had me frustrated, I decided to take it a step further than we usually do by asking him what he might do to one of them assuming that (like me) they were satisfied with giving him full reign over their body. I immediately sensed that my question had caught him slightly off guard but he soon recalled how we had broken the conversational topic barrier now with our last talk and therefore proceeded to explain. What surprised me was how he took his time with his description. I expected him to give me a quick answer and move on, but god did he do me dirty. He took his sweet old time describing his oral fixation unabashedly. I can’t believe he told me this but apparently, if he had all the say when it came to fun time in the bedroom, he would have his muse strip down to a a lacy satin body suit embroidened with intricate flower patterns that left very little to the imagination. Have her crawl between his spread legs to oggle his massive erection, up close. And then proceed to have her pour thick warm honey onto it slowly without touching it. And once he was satisified teasing the poor girl, he would resolve her now painful anguish by relinquishing control and allowing her to clean the fresh honey off of his throbbing dick by using whatever method she deemed best (though preferably the tongue and cheek method), till he was ready to spout his heavy load onto her wanton ass.
Suffice to say I was very turned on by the end of it. Not only because I have an oral fixation, but because I knew he knew I loved giving oral more than anything. Therefore, even though his very detailed description tragically came to and end, I had hopes that maybe, secretly, he was describing what he’d like to have me do for him. Fuck, if that was a deliberate play then he got me good. I even joked about having to write it down so that I could tell his future girlfriend about it. But now that I have written it down, I think I’ll be keeping it to myself.
I still feel conflicted about the whole ordeal but writing this has helped me get my thoughts in order (and for those of you out there wondering, yes, I did touch myself while I wrote this. Twice.). I know he has a reddit since I share porn from reddit with him every now and then. So, even though a part of me is scared he might read this and connect the dots, the wishful me hopes that once he’s read it, and put two and two together, hopefully he’ll confront me in a positive way. If he does read it, I hope he gets turned on. And I hope when he confronts me he tells me how fast my words got him to pitch a tent or how long he lasted whilst he stroked his massive oak to completion. If it isn’t clear by now, I love his cock and I think I might love him. And here I am shooting my shot. So here goes nothing ladies. I’m just a girl using words the only way I know how, to get a boy. Signing out for now I guess I’ll go with the pen name Ellie.
Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/hngryq/quarantine_isolation_has_got_me_fantasizing_about
I wanna taste ???