We are incompatible in many ways. Really, many. And we have already hit some rough spots, before even meeting.
And yet… and yet… there is something special there.
For the first time (yes, the first!), I did a tiny little bit of play with him. Miniscule, hardly anything at all.
We have a short phone call at 11.30pm, so I can tell him a bedtime story.
We talk about trivialities: my stubbed toe, his dog hair problem, wine…
I listen to him brush his teeth, a domestic intimacy.
He calls me ‘sweetie’, it is… well, sweet.
We talk and joke about nothing much at all.
I ask him later if he is already in bed. He says he is, of course. We talk some more.
Time for the bedtime story.
I tell him to get out of bed, to kneel by it, and to ask me if he can get into it.
It surprises him. It is the first time I have asked anything like this of him.
I hear him shift, a deep breath, I can almost taste it. He makes a sound as if he is reeling, it is quite lovely.
He gets out of bed, and gently asks if he can please get into bed. I can hear that he is turned on by it.
I say yes, and thank him for it, amused and aroused by this small gesture.
He tells me through a smile that he is hard now. I have not made it a rule yet, but I like it when he tells me… it is hot to hear him say it out loud.
“Also… no touching your cock while I am reading to you…”
He groans at that. “Okay…”
“Okay Ma’am, yes Ma’am.”
“That’s what I thought you said…”
He checks again. “No touching at all?”
“None, unless I say you can, which is unlikely…”
“Yes Ma’am, that seems unlikely.”
I tell him to shush then.
I read The Afternoon – Part III of our day to him. He makes small inarticulate sounds in my ear as I read to him in a low soft voice.
I allow him to touch himself for two sentences worth, twice. He thanks me and his tone gets a different tenor, lower, concentrated. His voice in my ear makes my stomach flip over. I tell him to stop when the two sentences are done.
When I finish the reading, I pause for a moment, then say goodnight, and hang up.
When I get off the phone, I slip a finger down to my pussy. I am so fucking wet, my finger slips easily between my lips, completely slick. Just from that. I come about 5 minutes after the phone call ends.
That’s the zing-zing right there. I don’t know how or why it sparks, but sometimes it just does, and when it does, small things like that hit me just right. He gives back to me exactly what I am giving out and it makes me want more. There’s something about him that just works for me.
Zing zing, baby.