Double edged wait

Amy

Michael

It all happened almost by accident. I say 'almost' because it was an accident at first, but one of which I, we took advantage. A typo, that was the accident. A typo in an internet search, which I didn't notice until I started scrolling the search results and noticed that none of them had anything to do with what I was looking for.

A typo during a rare evening in which I found myself alone, and with too much time on my hands, simply because my other plans were cancelled at the last minute. A typo that brought up a site that caught my curiosity. A typo that happened at a time in my life when I didn't care about dating, but I still cared about sex. I very much care about sex, and I like thinking about sex almost as much as doing it.

My fantasies, the images and scenarios that evolve from them are my greatest source of arousal. I have learned with time that sharing my fantasies with the right person, building new ones through his own, could bring us both beyond arousal, and deep into lust. I needed someone who would cater to my senses, entice me with the unknown taste of his own desires and blend them with mine. I wanted a man, of course.

Only, I didn't want a man, not now at least. I wanted a source of excitement, someone I could tease and toy with, not a lover. I wanted to be desired, to feel his eyes on me, pleading for my touch, for my attention. I wanted to make him want me more and more. I wanted my words, my voice and the mental image of me to fill his thoughts every moment of the day.

That's when I found Michael, when I wanted him most; a rare, perhaps unique combination of flesh, bones and mind behind the nickname of a dodgy and otherwise disappointing online chat room.

---

It had become some kind of routine for me, passing the twenty minutes bus ride from home to work by casually browsing the profiles. Most of them were so obviously fake that I felt embarrassed even reading through them, though I often found myself chuckling at some of them. Occasionally, I would try and contact some of the most sober ones, and very rarely had any response.

I suppose that's how it all started, with Amy's very rare response. So much has happened since then that I can hardly recall the words I typed on my phone that day, nor the ones that I read from her. I do remember that we kept chatting way beyond the duration of the bus drive, and that by the time our daytime life got in the way of online chatting, we had already exchanged our phone numbers.

At first there were only hints, subtle references to what we liked. Our messages became more and more vivid, more detailed as we started understanding each other's fantasies, more arousing as the boundaries of these fantasies were pushed further. It took only a few days for our roles to delineate more clearly.

The environment of our fantasy would change, and she often would be the one creating the scene. Even when I chose the setting for our imaginary encounter, she would find a way to take control of it. It could have been something simple, a subtle detail which would channel the story in a direction I didn't imagine before. A bottle of scotch, appearing from her bag in the hotel room where I imagined we would meet. I didn't notice it at first, but by opening that bottle, she affirmed her presence, her influence on the room and on my imagination. She asserted her power to twist the situation according to her desire, whenever she wished to do so. I liked that.

---

We started exchanging messages more and more frequently, during the day or late at night. I would read them before going to bed, craving the arousal our fantasies brought me. I could almost perceive his own arousal, I had never seen him, yet I found myself picturing him in his bed, naked, holding his breath while reading my messages and yearning for something physical. I imagined his hand probing the stiffness of his arousal, just as my fingers slid along my swollen labia.

The thought of him unable to hold back and pleasuring himself because of me was intoxicating. Simple messages did not suffice anymore, we both knew that. I could hardly sit still the night we agreed to talk over the phone. It was a mixture of curiosity and terror. Terror that all the words I had imagined pronounced by him, all the eroticism they carried, would crumble into pieces once I heard his real voice. Terror that my own voice turned plain and flat over the phone, stripping of its sensuality every image I had carved in his mind.

The shivers that shook my spine the moment I heard his 'hello' blew away any insecurity. I instinctively got up from the chair, my legs still trembling, and held a hand on the table to aid my posture as the smooth, deep sound caressed my ears. An accent, a hint of novelty and diversity, yet subtle enough that his words kept flowing freely.

I don't even recall our first few words, but I remember them drawing me unconsciously to my bed, where I used to lay to read through our messages. I do not recall our first words, but I still quiver at the memory of him saying "I would have never thought that just the sound of your voice could make me feel like this".

---

"Tell me, how do I make you feel?" The embarrassment we both felt when the phone line first opened, vanished within the first few sentences. Her words came to me slowly, measured and calm, her voice was deeper than most women I had known, musical, inviting. Once again, I felt that she had taken control of the conversation, I was mesmerized, her voice vibrated through my ear, echoed down my spine and resounded in my chest, in my loins, in my sex.

- "You... give me shivers, each like a small burst of..."

- "Of what?"

- "...of excitement, I don't think I can describe it in any other way."

I wanted her to know. I wanted every word I said to paint a picture of me, of how she made me feel, of how she could turn any minute of my day in a sudden blow of desire and arousal.

- "I am... excited too."

- "I have never met anyone whose imagination melts with mine so well, you make every image come to life."

- "Thank you... I like fantasizing, I find it immensely arousing... particularly with someone as imaginative as you."

The pauses between her words seemed to grow longer, her voice became deeper as our discussion slowly took the path we were both longing to follow. Naked in my bed, I knew it would have been too difficult to hold back much longer.

I could imagine the words in our messages enunciated with her deep, warm voice. They filled my mind like a fog, confused images of our bodies tangled with each other, of her turgid nipple grazing my lips while her hips raised over mine letting our sexes play with one another. I barely even realized that my fingertips were already sliding along the soft skin of my glans.

- "I do like it too, and I do like the details, the fine description of how we would touch, how we would kiss, of what we feel when we do so... I do like how you tease me, taking me to edge over and over."

- "I noticed that you like that, you always play along when I tease you... It's been one of the things I most enjoyed between us, I like to feel desired that way, seeing how much you want me."

I feared I would lose control at any point, say something that would break the subtle sexual tension that we both enjoyed so much. I forced myself not to reach for my erection, to retain my composure. We both paused, for a few seconds I could only hear her breathing, and twice I parted my lips to say something, without knowing which words I really wanted to speak.

- "What are you doing now?" I finally broke the silence, displeased with myself for not being able to keep up with her in this conversation.

- "I'm just laying in bed, talking to you." She almost chuckled. "What about you?"

- "I'm laying in bed talking to you." My response did not quite sound like a chuckle, she knew how I felt, she knew that I was fighting against my urges, against my cravings for her words, for her touch, even if just in my mind. She knew I would have followed her, played along with her to pleasure us both, if she wanted to.

- "Are you naked?" A simple, perhaps obvious question made me jolt, my stomach unnaturally contracted, holding back my answer for much longer that I wanted it to.

- "Yes, I am." My answer was slow, too slow, I had no means nor intention to hide my excitement now. "Are you?"

- "You should know by now, I find lingerie more sensual than nakedness... You actually know what I am wearing, I told you last night."

It was true, I loved her taste for lingerie, and I loved how she used every detail of it to populate my fantasies. I had never seen her, yet I could imagine her now, laying in bed. She was wearing a light blue bustier, with black lace lines along her waist up to a bra of the same lace pattern, the intricate fabric allowing not more than a glimpse of her nipples. The panties were also lined with black lace at the waist and at the thighs, the light blue fabric in the front smoothly enveloping her sex.

- "You are right, I can actually picture you now."

- "Really? How do I look then?"

- "Just... Irresistible..."

There was another pause, longer than the previous one. I struggled to keep myself from moaning.

My left hand was shaking, just inches from my throbbing sex.

- "Am I teasing you too much?"

- "Never..."

---

His voice seemed to tremble more and more with every sentence. The smooth, deep voice that I first heard was now more irregular, its pace erratic. Every vowel seemed on the verge of turning into a soft moan. His breathing became inconsistent, heavier. Every sudden, unexpected change in his tone, in the rhythm of his breathing would shake me from inside.

I could feel his arousal, I could tell every moment in which his hand lingered on his sex just by hearing him hold his breath. I imagined him laying naked next to me, watching me, his eyes devouring every detail of me, every thread of the lace which caressed my skin, every glimmer of excitement revealing itself through the fabric. I saw his sex pulsate, jolt as I gently pulled down the left side of the bra, exposing the hardened nipple to my fingertips.

I watched his hand slide open along his whole length, barely touching his pleading erection, as he watched my hand tighten around my breast, forcing the sensitive nipple between two fingers.

- "Never? ...are you sure?" My fingers clenched uncontrollably around the nipple, shooting a lightning of intense heat throughout my whole being. My legs bent at the knees, and I discovered myself tightening my thighs, squeezing them against each other and trapping my swollen labia between them.

- "Yes... I am."

- "Are you sure you wouldn't want me to touch you now, you wouldn't want my fingers tightly grasping the base of your sex, slowly pulling the skin up, while my lips softly caress the glans..."

- "Oh god..."

Sliding away from my tortured nipple, I couldn't help but run the fingers on my chest and waist, beyond the lace band of my panties, and up my thigh, pressing against the groin, feeling the heat and moist hidden under the thin layer of blue silk.

- "Are you not holding your hand tight around your sex, sliding it, stroking while you think of my lips parting around the head and slowly engulfing it?"

- "Yes... Amy, I am..."

I pushed under the side of the panties, finally reaching the smooth slit between the labia with the fingers, and letting them run along the whole length of the sex up to the turgid clitoris. I struggled to hold back a moan, sealing my lips for a moment.

- "Can you imagine the tip of my tongue escaping from my lips, probing the lower side of your penis,

then running back slowly, stopping at the edge of the glans, teasing it...?"

- "Amy... you are going to make me cum..."

My fingers started pushing harder between the labia, parting them and reaching deeper inside,

massaging the inner folds of my sex, renouncing any control on my moaning.

- "No! Stop...! ...don't ...don't cum Michael...!"

---

My sex jolted, tight in the grip of my own fingers, aching as her words resounded in my head. I didn't think I could have stopped, and I didn't know why I did it. The sense of frustration merged with the arousal, I felt my abdomen contract, my back arch as i tried to hold back the orgasm that I desperately wanted, and yet I did not know why.

- "Why? ...why do you want me to stop?" Confusion, disbelief, even anger perhaps, a whirl of sensations that only seemed to fuel my desire for her.

- "I want you on the edge." She was panting, letting out short, shallow breaths as her words formed in a deep whisper. She was aroused, she was toying with me, and she liked it. She liked it even more than knowing I'd be driven to an orgasm by the image of her, by her voice and her words.

- "You are teasing me... you like it, don't you?" I had to swallow halfway through that sentence to manage to finish it. The soft, muffled moans I could hear from the other side of the line felt like the most powerful aphrodisiac, forcing my own breath to follow the same accelerated pace. Only, mine was driven by the need to keep control of my own body, whereas she seemed about to lose it.

- "Yes, very much." A wicked giggle mixed with her deepening moans. I looked down at the reddened head of my sex, spurting from the clench of my fingers, I had no idea whether I had the willpower to stop myself, yet I relished the thought of not being in control of my own pleasure.

- "So, you don't want me to touch myself?"

- "Oh, you can touch... but I don't want you to cum."

- "Amy, I do not know how long I can hold back."

- "What if I told you that we can meet in person in two days, and asked you not to cum until then?"

I felt dizzy from holding my breath while she spoke. A tremor ran through my neck and spine at the idea of meeting her. My mind wandered to the thought of her hands, her lips on me, her touch bringing me to where I was in that very moment, her sex engulfing mine and guiding me through an intense orgasm which merged with hers. My hand moved up slowly again, I felt the drop of thick liquid on the orifice with the tip of the thumb and stopped again as the urethra tensed slightly.

---

- "Two days?"

His voice had nearly disappeared, I could hardly understand him.

- "Yes, Sunday. I will plan everything. You didn't answer my question though."

I had to hold still to maintain focus for a minute, gather my thoughts on what I really wanted and what I was asking of him. I could still feel the inner walls of my sex pulsate against my fingers, demanding more. I realized then that if our roles had been inverted, I would not have been able to hold back as I was asking him to.

- "Ok... I'll do it."

My neck felt suddenly hot. Blows of excitement and anticipation swirled in my stomach. I released the break I had put on my thoughts and desires and felt the tip of my fingers reach deeper inside me, ripping my voice apart in a groan.

I could hear him breathe deeply, trying to calm himself down. I imagined him staring at his sex, jolting at the pace of his heartbeat, clinching his fingers on the sheets to keep himself from touching it, while he listened to my moans growing wilder with the mounting pleasure.

I had not planned to masturbate while on the phone with him when we agreed to talk, but self-control was far lost at this point. I wanted him to hear me, I wanted him to know how much I wanted him. Because I did want him, now more than ever. I imagined his hand behind my neck, his lips pressed against mine in a deep kiss. My nipples burned at the thought of his fingers surrounding them.

I imagined his sex, throbbing, pressing against mine as his whole body moved between my thighs. I felt him taking me, with all the lust and desire I forced into him.

- "Amy... you are magnificent..."

The sound of his voice, the words of idolization echoing in my head, the image of his body firmly on top of mine releasing all the passion I had denied him, altogether freed the orgasm from my inner self. The heat built up in my neck and chest, radiated to my spasming sex, and broke out in gushes of warm pleasure through my restless fingers.

---

I listened speechless to her moans; the pitch of her voice raised slightly as she climaxed. My legs and whole lower body tensed while I pictured her, shaken and disheveled by the orgasm. Almost unconsciously I rocked my hips up from the bed and forward, over and over, following the rhythm of her panting. I watched as a thin string of liquid formed from the glans to my stomach and listened to the sound of her orgasm slowly subsiding.

- "I didn't expect to reach this point when we started talking."

Her words sounded inconspicuously detached from one another by the frantic pauses of her rapid breathing, but her voice had regained the deep, velvety warmth that seemed to flow languidly over my body. I could almost feel it vibrate against my aching sex.

- "Me neither, but..."

- "But what?"

- "Hearing you like this has been the most erotic experience I have ever had." I said this all in one breath, shutting my eyelids tight to keep myself from picturing her crawling up along my legs, but it was no use. I could feel her over me, her hands grazing my thighs up to the groins, and her tongue running slowly along the urethra, pressing against the sensitive frenulum.

- "You want to cum, don't you?"

- "I... I don't even know how I haven't cum yet."

- "You cannot imagine how arousing it is to hear you like this."

Part of me wished that she gave in, that she guided my hand with her voice and let me feel the

same pleasure she just did.

- "You cannot imagine what hearing you like this is doing to me."

- "I look forward to experiencing it myself. I can't wait for Sunday now."

- "Seriously? You are the one who can't wait?" I laughed nervously, but the joke took my mind off the visions that were haunting me for a moment. She laughed too, the atmosphere was slowly changing, but my arousal did not abate.

- "I know this sounds terrible now, but it's getting late, I have an early morning tomorrow."

- "No, it's fine, I'd better get some sleep too."

I rested immobile in my bed after we hung up. I closed my eyes and pressed the palm of my hand on the needing sex. I pushed it against my stomach. Just shifting the skin for a few seconds was enough to push me again on the verge of bursting into the orgasm I had been longing. I stopped, and imagined Amy letting the head slide out of her lips, slowly, knowing she had ceased just before I lost control. She smiled at me and climbed up the bed laying next to me 'I will drive you crazy, you know', she whispered in my ear.

It took me hours to fall asleep. Hours that I spent fighting the thought that she would have never known whether I did cum or not, but that was not the point, was it?

---

Our exchange of messages continued incessantly through Saturday. Michael would respond to my provocations in our fantasies, engage them, feed them. He was more audacious, more impatiently passionate. His descriptions became even more vivid than they had been before, at times I felt he left little room for my own fantasies, but his eagerness was breathtaking.

I could feel the heat of his hands on me, he seemed to know exactly how I wanted to be touched. Twice I discovered my breathing grow faster and deeper just after reading a series of messages that he had just sent me. My arousal peaked repeatedly during the day, and I cursed myself for having to wait another day to finally feel his body against mine.