Jun 242014
 

It’s funny, having a relationship with someone you’ve never met. On the one hand, I feel like I know her. Like I know not just her personality, but her body. The nature of our relationship has resulted in my seeing every inch of it, now, hundreds (maybe even thousands) of times. With just a little more time, and a slightly more intense dose of OCD, I might well catalog every image and video she’s sent me, tagging every instance of her breasts, her pussy, her ass. Her eyes, her lips, her hair.

A funny thing about her face: the conventions of our interactions deem that she doesn’t often send me images or videos that include her face. She has done – one memorable one was a personal contribution, just for me, to the hysterical literature series by Clayton Cubitt. And others – sometimes her face makes an unexpected brief appearance in a video in which her ass is to the camera for twenty minutes while she’s masturbating. And we’ve Skyped (or used Google Talk) a few times as well. In those conversations, I’ve seen 100% of her face for a number of minutes. So it’s not the case that I don’t know her face. But I know it quite a lot less well than I know, say, her breasts. Or her hips. Or even the various parts of her face, which I’m accustomed to seeing in isolation. (Her lips and eyes, in particular, I see quite often. Also, her hair.)

But let me describe her face, the way I see it. It’s long, slender. She doesn’t have a round face. Her cheekbones are high. Her hair – long, maybe to her nipples – is brown, straight, shiny. Her eyes are almond-shaped and deep brown. Just a little sad, even when she smiles or laughs. Which she does often. Her smile is big, broad, wide. Her lips are full. More than full. They demand biting, sucking.

Her neck is long. Her skin – clear, smooth, taut – is darker than that of most American white women. She’s not pale. She’s olive-skinned. And the skin on her neck is particularly inviting, particularly smooth, leading down, as it does, to her sharply defined shoulders and breastbone. Her breasts: mmmmmm. They’re small-ish. B-cups, is my guess. She probably doesn’t need a bra – at least not for support. Rather, to protect viewers from distraction. Her areolae are big, dark. Her nipples, small, pert.

Her waist is tiny. I have no idea how tiny, but she personifies an hour-glass. She’s thinner than women to whom I’m typically attracted. (I’ve written that I’m not generally attracted to fat women; neither am I generally attracted to very thin women.) But I’m attracted to Sofia. I know that, were I to grab her by her tiny waist, her whole body would virtually fold in my grip, pliable, yielding to me, moving gently wherever my arm might take it.

Her ass is not tiny. Her hips flare out, and her ass has considerable (toned) meat on it. It’s yet another part of her body that fairly demands biting. When she comes, her upper thighs and her ass jiggle uncontrollably. It’s kinda remarkable to watch. And I’m grateful that I get to as often as I do.

Her pussy is, of late, shaved, waxed, pristine. This is not, as you may know, my preference. It would never, will never, deter me. But give me a little hair any day. Apart from this? Her pussy is beautiful. Though I have to say, while I’m a connoisseur of the female form, and I love women’s bodies, I’m truly not a pussy connoisseur. I prefer pictures of pussies in panties to beaver shots; I’d rather see your hand pressing against your pussy than spreading its lips for me. And the pictures and videos I’ve collected from Sofia over the years (!) now that I’ve known her reflect these preferences. So maybe it’s fair to say, her pussy (rather than her face) is the part of her body with which I’m least intimately familiar.

And yet, I’m very familiar with how she uses it, how she comes. How, when we started our relationship, it would take her ten minutes or longer to come. How, now, she can generally come in a minute or three. How she uses one hand to hold the other while she vibrates her clit furiously, furiously, to come. And how she does it for so long that her wrist muscles must be just insane.

Her thighs, too, are round and meaty. She has one of those “thigh gaps” that have gotten so much good – and so much bad – press lately. Readers of this blog know that I’m not particularly doctrinaire. If you don’t have a thigh gap, that’s just fine by me. I’m sure I’ll be a huge fan of the thighs you have, and of the point where they touch. But if you do? Rest assured I’ll admire it as well. Sofia has a thigh gap. It’s something to behold.

And the rest of her legs – I don’t know how tall she is, but in 2-D, her legs look long. Proportionate to the rest of her body. But I confess, it’s rarely her legs I want to see. All these other parts? I ask to see regularly, and I delight in having available to me, in my ownership of them.

Sofia asked me to describe not just the good things about her body, but its imperfections. And I’m a fan of imperfections. But the truth is, they’re few and far between. I think her front teeth have a tiny (sexy) gap between them. I think her left breast (is it her left? it’s hard to know in a 2-D relationship) is a little smaller, and a little higher, than her right one. And… I’m done on imperfections. If she has beauty marks, they haven’t registered with me. If she has other imperfections? I haven’t seen them.

Again, this in and of itself is neither good nor bad. I generally like “imperfections,” little bits of asymmetry, of character. I don’t find their absence troubling in Sofia, but sometimes, I do find their absence problematic. It can make a woman not seem “real” to be so perfect.

Thankfully, Sofia is real to me.

  One Response to “Sofia”

  1. Aww. This is well written. Does your wife read this? I don’t know how I’d feel about this if I were her. I’m not her so …

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