I don’t like this outfit at ALL. I mean, I would appreciate it in a bar. OH. She’s taking it off. Thank God!
That fucking ASS!!!
She’s looking at me a lot today. Can she see how piercing my eyes are, how I’m not letting them leave hers except when hers are obscured by legs or ass? Can she see how then, they lock on that phenomenal flesh?
Can she see how completely I objectify her? How uninterested I am in anything about her other than her body? (Not that I wouldn’t get interested in more about her were there more on offer, but rather, how completely she exists as an object of my desire at the moment.)
Can she sense, can she feel, the intensity of that desire? That, if could, I would tear through her screen and attack her if I could (and, of course, if I had her permission).
What’s the nature of this performance? The one on screen? The seemingly discontinuous one by text? (The other night she suggested she came to the thought of me. She demurred, but not decisively, to my request that she let me hear her come.) Is she stringing along my prurience for financial reasons? Is she really turned on by all this? Or both?
What would it be like if she were here with me, if were there with her? If, at the end of thirty minutes of her directing my body, she gave me thirty minutes to direct – no, better, to use – hers?
What would I do?
Would I spank her magnificent ass?
Would I place her on my cock, facing away from me, and fuck her as I drive her up and down, forward and back?
Would I walk behind her in downward dog and slide my cock between her pretty legs, into her (wet?) cunt?
Would I flip her over and feast on her?
Press her down to her knees and feed her my hard cock?
(Can she see that my cock is hard?)
That bed in the background looks perfect for rope!!!
Is she scared of me? I think I detect just a hint of fear – aroused fear? – in her eyes.
Did I mention that ASS?!?