Masturbation

A reader points me to an interesting project: women talking about, and demonstrating, how they get off — educational, not pornographic, though the line is, as always, blurry.

Stand in front of me. I’ll be sitting, stroking my cock through my jeans.

The question isn’t whether the orgasms are real, but whether the sounds are performed — and whether that distinction even matters.

I want thirty more minutes of her time, and I know exactly how I want her to spend them.

R sends me the sound of her coming, and then tells me, in words, exactly what she did. FUCK is this hot.

Sometimes I don’t want to touch. I just want to sit across from you, hard, and tell you what to do.

Google Hangouts, Starbucks, and the impossible question of where she should point the camera.

Help me get free porn. You’ll thank me later.

A slow, detailed striptease I’d like you to perform for me.

Driving through the meatpacking district, I told her to cum for me. She did.