Charlotte is good to me.
We have a bit of a sadomasochistic thing going. Not in the “S&M” way. In the way that – as I’ve done with a few other women in my past – we court drama and pain in our interactions.
We do it, mostly, mindfully; mostly, well.
But there are times each of us wishes the “fun” were a bit bigger a slice of the pie. To be fair, it’s a big fucking pie.
We recently had a little kerfuffle between us about my foolish request that Charlotte send me a photo for every text she sent to another man. This was a great idea. For me. If she were up to the task. But she wasn’t. And it sucked. For both of us.
Tonight, Charlotte asked me – somewhat desperately – if she could come. (I wrote, in draft one of this post, that she asked if she could come for me. But this isn’t what she asked. It’s not what she meant.)
She does this sometimes. She hasn’t fully internalized that her orgasms. Belong. To. Me.
I have to remind her. And remind her. And remind her.
It’s a lesson that doesn’t seem to take.
I offered her the opportunity to come, if, first, she sent me ten photos: three of her face (not included in this post, for obvious reasons).
Three of her thighs and cunt:
Holy shit. Those thighs are so delectable. It’s just fucking criminal that I’m not sinking my teeth into them right fucking now.
Three photos of her phenomenal tits:
Charlotte loves her tits. With good reasons. She dresses to call attention to her yummy cleavage, revealing the tantalizing curves of her breasts in just about everything I’ve ever seen her wear. No complaints here…
And one photo of her ass:
Charlotte struggles to take photos of her ass that she likes.
She doesn’t struggle to take photos of her ass that I like. Except. No bruises! (I need to fix that. And soon!)
I told her she also needed to edge for a minute prior to coming.
Charlotte asked how I wanted the orgasm – audio or video. Video! I said. I asked for her to focus on her face. “No,” she wrote. She said something about her vibrator.
“Don’t say ‘no’ to me,” I said. She should, honestly, know better, by now. But she doesn’t. She forgets.
We fixed it. She circled around to the correct words. I told her I was fine with a video of the vibrator and her cunt. And those black panties. (In which I saw her come just a few hours ago, live, on Zoom.)
So. Fucking. Hot.
I wish I could share the video, but I can’t. It includes too much of her.
I watched her video. Stroked my cock.
And she was off, texting other men….
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