It was so easy for you, flirting and teasing over the internet. Knowing you were making my married cock hard, loving the fact that your words were leading me to touch myself. Knowing you had the power to make a virtual stranger cum.
And I know you came too. Intoxicated by your power, by my dirty words and thoughts. By the filthy shared fantasies and pics. The audio of me cumming. The audio you sent in return. Above all, the intimacy. The sharing of your sexual experiences, dreams, kinks with a man you have never met or spoken to in real life.
So that was hot and dirty and wrong, but easy. And when I started to push to meet up in real life, you backed away. But not entirely. You were addicted to this thing now, you needed my lust and my filthy words and deeds on an almost daily basis. I know you thought of me when you fucked him. I thought of you when I fucked her. I probably always will.
And being in the same country felt novel and somehow hotter. No transatlantic time delays, a shared language in every sense.