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Sigh
I haven’t heard from him in more than a week. Normally it would be okay, since he’s close by, but currently he is in a whole other country; a dangerous country, where any day could be your last and everyday you are in fight or flight mode.
I missed him with all my heart, but I was pissed off at him all the same. Another couple of days go by before he makes himself visible again and I was relieved, I unintentionally kept myself occupied by watching CNN and scaring myself shitless. But when he finally emailed me to tell me he was safe, alive, and missing me I couldn’t help but to smile and feel relieved.
He told me to get on to iChat at 11 pm my time, wear something sexy and be ready to have a long but satisfying chat. I look down at the clock and realize it’s a little after 9:30 pm. I get up from the computer, take a shower, lotion, and find something sexy to wear for our chat. I find a nice black lacy number that I remember made him rock steady the last time I saw him in person. Slipping the garment on, I neglect the matching panty that comes with it. I light some candles, get a bowl of strawberries and turn on soft music to keep my mind at ease and prevent my mouth from asking overbearing questions.
I want to be in a serenely sensual mood when I get to talk to him. I know his time is usually limited or quickly interrupted by the faulty internet connection there, so I reserve the tongue lashing for another day. Tonight, I wanted him. I wanted the reality of him being right there with me. I wanted to close my eyes and imagine that he was right there, safe in my arms, but for tonight I would take what I could get….his deep baritone voice, his lingual lyricism, and his simulated image on my computer screen.
10:57.
I feel myself getting anxious, butterflies doing triple axels in my stomach. I turn my computer on, log into iChat and await the virtual arrival of my lover.
The chimes signify his presence online and I find myself more than elated to see for myself that he is still himself. Before we interrupt the airspace with our words of endearment, we stare at each other through digital electronic eyes.
“Hey Baby,” he says, his smooth voice permeating my aural senses.
He grins at me knowing that if it wasn’t for his long awaited communication, I would have lit into him a long time ago.
“Hey yourself,” I say to him, trying to hide my grin. “I thought about you all week…you know the same week you decided to be MIA, invisible, ‘where’s Waldo?”’
“Ssshh, baby. I don’t want to fight with you about losing all forms of communication due to a loose suicide bomber. All I want to talk about is how much I love you, miss you, and want to caress your shivering body after you descend from the far reaches of heaven,” he exclaims.
I must admit, he does a great job of silencing me with the simplest of scripts.
“I don’t mean to be so upset, but you really had me worried. I watched CNN everyday praying to God that I wouldn’t see your name as one of the killed civilians. My Google alert is set to “your name” and “killed.” I just wished you would at least give me some sign, even when it’s impossible to let me know you are okay.” I exclaim candidly.
As I speak, I see him shift in his seat and his face change from joy to a bit of sadness.
“Well, baby girl, I just hope you know in your heart that if anything happens to me that you are my everything and that I love you with every breadth of my being.” He says with sincerity.
Tears start to form in my eyes at the thought of losing him so suddenly for something so senseless. I admire the fact that he was able to bravely leave his home country and work in another county to ensure the wealth he wants that would’ve taken him decades to attain otherwise.
“Hey,” he says, “I don’t want to see you cry. Let’s play a game to take your mind of the negative.”
“Well what are we about to play?” I ask him.
“Simon Sez or rather I says…” He exclaims.
“You know, that’s funny since your name actually is Simon,” I chuckle
His face tells me he is serious and I patiently wait to hear what his commands are going to be. I feel a bit giddy, and yet the thought of what is on his mind has me feeling a kind of tingly in certain parts of my body.
“I want you to close your eyes and take a deep breath,” He instructs.
I listen, taking a deep and controlled breath.
“Now, I see you have brought some strawberries to our meeting. Did I ever tell you how much I enjoy watching you each strawberries? I like the way your lips wrap around the bright red fruit and form an ‘O.’ I want you to take a strawberry, tease it with your tongue, slowly slip it halfway into your mouth and gently nibble on it. Savoring the juices as they drain on your anxious tongue.”
I’ve always known how much he loved my lips. It’s evident whenever I see him in person; he always greets me with the longest, most passionate kisses.
I tease him a little with my strawberry display, grazing the strawberry across my lips, allowing the strange texture to stimulate me. I examine the bumpy surface of the strawberry with my tongue, getting to know each seed personally. I place more than half of it into my mouth allowing it to fill my oral cavity before wrapping my lips around its circular body and taking a bite out of it.
I hear him silently moan as I take his directions to the next level.
“Mmmm…okay. Well, you are quite the student. You ready for your next set of instructions?” He asks.
I shake my head yes, anticipating what other sensual things he is going to watch me do.
“Next, I want you to turn up the classic Sade you have playing in the background and find something to blindfold yourself with,” he requests.
I turn the volume of the music player up on my laptop and get up to find a blind fold.I return with a black satin/ velvet sleep mask. I place it over my head and allow the other senses to amplify.
“I want you to imagine that I am there, behind you, my hands exploring the surface of your body. I want your hands to start its journey from your hair, fingers running through your soft strands. Massaging your temples, releasing the built up tension of the day.”
My hands, emulating his, run themselves through my luxurious hair massaging my scalp and my temples. Even through a computer screen, he can tell that I am stressed.
“Massage your temples, releasing the built up tension of the day. Let your fingers explore the curvature of your face beginning with your hairline and working your way down to your chin. I want your fingers to glide across your eyelids, ski down your nose, and skate across your lips. Take a detour to your cheeks and swim in your sexy ass dimples.”
I have to chuckle, he truly has a way with words. With his witty ass….
I take my time massaging my temples, applying pressure to the area where my hair follicles meet my face, taking pleasure in feeling the tension exit my body. I gently tickle the sides of my face and my chin with my fingers giving me a feeling of feathers tickling my face. It makes me chuckle a bit and remember the last time I saw Simon. He literally had huge feathers, tickling my face. I smile on the inside about that thought.
I move the mask from my eyes that remain closed and get acquainted with their spherical shape and jumpiness to the touch. My fingers trace along my eye lashes, giving me an awkward but fun feeling. I touch my nose, not really interested in staying there. It just doesn’t turn me on to touch my nose, but my lips….my lips have swelled with shear anticipation from wanting to be kissed. For now I will have to settle with my own touch, his voice, and my imagination. I caress my sensitive lips, outlining their fullness, admiring their smooth texture, exhilarating in their ability to make me wet from my touch. My fingers cuddle my cheeks as they detour to the canyons that are my dimples.
I look at the computer screen and see that he has made himself more than comfortable at his desk. I can tell that he is getting off on the show I am putting on for him and wait for him to push me further. I replace the blind fold and await his instructions.
“I know me being so far away from you has caused you to have plenty of tension in your shoulders and neck, give yourself a massage for me.”
I massage my neck by rubbing it in slow circular motions, meditating as I do this to relinquish the tension further. I hug myself to rub my shoulders, imaging he is there behind me making everything “normal” and safe again. I get myself into a deep relaxing mood, coupled with the soothing sounds of his voice coaching my every move.
“Yeah, baby. Let’s turn this game way up now. Simon says fondle your titties and nipples like they will perish if you don’t.”
Before he even told me what he wanted me to do, I was already making my way to my soft, chocolaty mounds. I slowly take an arm out of the little lacy nightie I am wearing, exposing my left breast, giving him my own version of nipple gate. My right hand supports my left breast like a mother holding her dear child. I take pride in the fact that I have a large chest, I especially take pride that my large breasts enables me to personally suck on them for my absent lover. I lift my left breast to my mouth and suckle on it, imagining Simon’s face panged with pleasure and delight. I rub my right breast and give my nipple a pinch, succumbing to the feelings arising from my body. My left breast escapes my mouth and I caress them together, giving them harmonious attention.
I take the game of “Simon Sez” and turn it into “Read his mind” as my digits descend past my rib cage, below my belly button and towards the “island of intensification.” I am getting towards the point of no return when my fingers find themselves submerged in the ocean currents of my pussy.
I scoot away from the computer and rest each leg on the side of the computer, so Simon can have an HD view of my personal assault on my pussy.
Entertained by my solitary sex, my ears peak when I hear that Simon has joined our game and began to fondle himself as well. I take off the blindfold, gluing my eyes to the screen, becoming the voyeur.
Simon has backed away from the computer a bit to allow me to see his massive dick being stroked by his masculine hands. Call me perverted but I really enjoy watching him jack off, like most girls. I try my hardest not to get distracted by the sight of his masturbating and with my open eyes continue to concentrate on the climax playing Jenga inside my body. I don’t quite want the blocks to topple, but it is slowly becoming precarious.
My fingers massage the inside of my pussy, finding my g-spot and not allowing it to be lost again…at least for the next couple of minutes. I am getting turned on from the warmth that surrounds my fingers, the sight and sound of Simon’s grunts and strokes.
I feel the pressure rising inside my tea kettle, I’m about to blow my whistle.
“Don’t cum yet, I want you to come with me baby …” He requests.
He’s lucky he said something. Another few seconds longer and I would have been seeing all the colors of the rainbow.
I decrease my intensity, waiting for Simon, matching his pace. As he strokes faster, I manipulate harder. I match him stroke for stroke, moan for moan. Orgasm is knocking at both our doors…
I surprise myself by squirting continuously, seeing clouds made of cotton candy and unicorns from the intensity of the orgasm.
Several orgasms later, my descension from heaven is complete and my senses return to normal. I take my legs from the top of the desk and sit up to see Simon.
I’m not sure when it happened, but in the midst of our simultaneous solo sexing, the internet connection dies out and we lose our connection…
I clean myself off, thinking, “Damn, Simon didn’t even say good bye,” I chuckle wondering when our next video chat session will be.
