I wonder if I am falling too deep into this particular rabbit hole – or perhaps the word is actually “diving”, rather than “falling”.. It’s not as though anyone has forced me, in any way – not until I have asked, that is – but this notion of handing over this level of control of my body, my orgasms, my release, to an almost perfect stranger is wild and enticing. I feel.. compelled. Truly, that what I’m asking for is a *need* – it will not do if I don’t have it.
It has already gotten to a point where I brought a sex toy to work today – a smallish vibrator; it fit easily in my pants pocket (which was both wonderful and terrible, later), but a sex toy, nonetheless. The same toy, I might add, that I used just that morning in the name of pleasing another by pleasing myself… but only to a point. I moaned and writhed and desperately walked the razor’s edge, never falling over.. And then shakily cut myself off, fully, before tucking it in my pocket on my way out the door. All of this, to please a person I’ve only chatted to – never met, or even seen. But his (I assume! I am merely trusting, fiercely, that he is as he says – and vice versa, to his credit) words course through my body in an unforeseen and intriguing way. I described, in detail, to this person my morning’s flight of fancy, of fantasy, and am perhaps foolishly thrilled when he approves and praises me. Read more »