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Such a story happened to me for the first time, and it is wo..
🕑 Added 2023-11-18 23:19:59 +0000 UTC Such a story happened to me for the first time, and it is worthy of telling.A regular chat. The guy with the photos he shared looked at me like a typical hipster bartender - tattooed arms, beard and a mischievous smile. I didn't have a chance to check if it was really him, because in real life we never knew each other. Photos and conversations provided enough food for thought, which sweetly weakened the knees. My imagination drew me exciting pictures that were slightly frightening and at the same time wildly turned on.
We chatted about life, shared our thoughts. He conquered with his mind and ability to be interesting. It was felt that he was interested in communication–but not in exploring my personality. However, he had the decency to ask my opinion before brazenly objectifying me. I allowed it. He treated me with respect, but made it clear that my main role was to be his sexual object. However, this excluded omissions, misunderstandings, making everything simple and understandable. It was pure, distilled sex. We called our communication mental sex. I had no idea what emotions would overwhelm me. Anyway, I craved adventure.
I'm sure I wasn't his first victim. The script was perfectly honed. Then he started sending me short videos and GIFs with different sex scenes. They differed in the atmosphere, the degree of hardcore – from gentle kisses to hard fucking. It seemed that the whole range of sexual tastes was gathered in this collection. And so I found myself in a situation where I was sitting among respectable citizens in a coffee shop and diligently making the impression of the same decent girl, eagerly looking at the screen. But damn it, how exciting it was!
He asked me to watch each video twice and was sure to ask if I had the guts to re–watch this scene? Would I like to take part in something like this? I watched all the videos he sent me, one after another, and after half an hour I could barely sit still. My excitement has reached some hellish heights. This time my virtual friend built his collection in a devilish increasing sequence. After about an hour (I had never watched porn for an hour in my life), it became clear that my self-control was about to burst. A series of rollers did not tire me – I was dripping with grease and losing concentration from excitement. He joked that I probably exude the scent of insane lust, and others have already felt it, no matter how innocent I pretend to be. He asked me to retire to the restroom to check the degree of my hydration. I felt as if a whole lake had flowed under me. I got into the cherished booth, pulled off my panties and checked how wet his sophisticated script made me. The word "expiring" in relation to the vagina has always seemed to me an exaggerated metaphor – but now it was perfectly suited to my condition.
"9/10," I sent my verdict, and he said that masturbation would make me happy at this moment. I started caressing myself, feeling my swollen clitoris throbbing. Even in order to clean myself up, I spent a lot more time. Judging by the look of the woman who took the queue behind me, because of the thin door of the booth, I gave myself away with suspiciously noisy breathing. The virtuoso of virtual sex asked: "how did it go?". Suddenly I was embarrassed, as if I hadn't just watched porn in a public place, I hadn't just finished in the restroom of a coffee shop. He waited patiently for my sense of reality to return.
An ironic message appeared on the screen: "This was your crash course in mental sex. You have successfully passed it. Wait for further instructions" ...
Is there a continuation to this? Oh, yes, and I'll talk about it a little later...
