Julie and I have been doing a pilates/yoga/stretching routine almost daily for a month or so. It varies slightly from day to day. She varies it slightly from day to day. But there are constants: her ass. Her thighs. Her cunt. Her hair. Her breasts. Her face. And damn if I don’t feel better for having done this daily for a month. In my cock, sure, but mainly, in my body as a whole.
Julie peppers our sessions with poses that maximize my views: downward dog. Squats. Planks. (n.b.: I would like some wide-legged planks; they would accomplish the same muscular outcome while improving my thigh/cunt/ass view.)
Between our sessions, our text exchanges hint at arousal. In both directions.
I made a couple of requests of her.
1. Come for me. Record it. Send it to me.
Or 2. Read me the post I sent you this morning, and send that to me.
Or 3. Combine the two.
She didn’t receive them as I might have hoped: “Neither of those things turn me on at all. But I will consider and see if i can arouse myself to do so, N.”
An exchange ensued. She was communicative. Thoughtful. Respectful. She added: “No assignments as of yet, N. It feels like work and pressure, and I want us to be naughty and fun.”
As I write this, she is, ostensibly, annotating the very questionnaire. She allowed me to choose her outfit today from among three choices (“Pink bra and cheetah skirt. Halter top and purple skirt. Pink top and pink flower shorts.”). I clarified that the pink bra was a sports bra. Which – meh. I don’t like sports bras. “Option 2,” I specified.
The purple skirt was fucking hot, but it didn’t, quite, give me the views of her pussy and ass for which I had hoped. Next time, perhaps.
There’s much fun we already have. And much more that awaits us. And, I’ve written a second questionnaire. Which she hasn’t seen yet. Which she won’t see until after she annotates the first….