I wrote, once, about another L. As happens from time to time, she burned bright, and fast.
She’s smart. She writes well. She’s a grownup.
She’s a perfectionist, and she wants to please [me]. But she found me problematic, in ways I mostly understand, and in ways with which I’m familiar.
There’s an island 3,000 miles to the east of me on which resides a plurality of the women who find my blog compelling. This other L lives on that island. And, like many of those women on that island, this L is hungry for interactions with me that are about 20% more epistolary than those for which I hunger, and which operate at a cycle time of about 20% of that which I crave.
She faithfully, diligently, and cock-stiffeningly executed my assignments. She seemed to enjoy this. But somehow, things went sideways between us. I’m not sure I entirely understand why, but part of it has to do with medium. E-mail is slower than text. I thrive on immediacy. On real-time back-and-forth.
I won’t characterize this L’s disappointment in, with, me, with our interactions. But they didn’t prove to be sustainable to her. This is sad for me, because – well, because a) she’s fucking hot, b) she’s fucking smart, c) she likes pleasing me, and d) I visit that island. Regularly. If not often.
As I was writing this, she wrote me. We hadn’t interacted in days. Maybe a week or more. “I’m guessing you’re done with me. I got a huge kick out of pleasing you. I took these for you for something you asked for one day, I forget what it was now, but seems only fair you get them!”
I’m not done with her!
She had written me a message that required thought, time, to answer. As I’ve written before, I respond to all messages instantly, or nearly so. Except those that either require thought or that prick my anxieties, ambivalence, discomfort. Her last message, which had included the thought “I can’t work out a way of doing that whilst withholding who I am,” clearly required thought.
I want to find a way to have this L send me smut constantly, continuously. And, for me to lodge my cock in her mouth for hours the next time I’m on her island. Or that she’s on one of my two islands. But, in the meantime, she and I will have to work to identify whether there’s a way for us to interact that works for us.
I sure as shit hope so.