DWB Meta

• I wrote and published a work of Real Person Fiction. Wherein a real person, who happens to be famous, does any number of lewd, gross sex acts. I know this wrong and yet I did it anyway.
• If my friends and family knew what I did they would all abandon me, and they would be right to do so.
• I know what I did is wrong and yet I did it anyway.

And so, please note for the record;

• Not only am I a failed writer. I am a failed person.
• My penis. Is not big. And a real woman would be thoroughly underwhelmed by it. Indeed, everyone so unfortunate to have come in contact with it would willing corroborate.
• I am not a sexual dynamo.
• I live vicariously through my fantasies because my reality is so pathetic.
• I am pathetic. I am scum.
• The only part of me worth feeling sorry for is my hand for having to pleasure my boring, wrinkled, smelly, little prick.
• I cannot produce the prodigious amounts of cum that I describe in my stories.
• My obsession with deviancy is born of my inadequacy. Of power that I will never wield.
• And the acts, are of a particularly weird, dirty and depraved nature because I have consumed so much porn that anything less no longer does it for me. Whatever creativity I possess is born of this sad fact.
• I am as worthless as the small, slimy, sad sluglike excuse that I call my penis.
• The only reason I am saying these things is that I hope it will get me laid. I would do anything
• But I will not. Get laid. I will never touch anyone ever again. I know this just as well as the rest of you.
• The object of my desire and subject of my stories thinks that I am dirt. She is the one filming me now.
• This will be evidence in my trial.
• I do not deserve forgiveness. I do not deserve sympathy. I deserve scorn. And banishment.
• These are my words. I own them.

END

I lower my phone to my lap. Despondently.

You say nothing, but tap your phone and lower it also.

We're done apparently.

You don't say anything. And neither do I.

My heady exuberance of earlier has fallen from a cliff. The booze gone, now I just feel ill.

'You read them all.' You say finally. Did I have a choice?

I just stare at the ground, sullenly, unable to look up at you.

'I hope it made you feel better...safer...' I say, a bit pathetically let's be honest.

You consider it. And do not deny it. 'Well I guess that's that then.' I think to myself.

'I do think those things.' I admit finally. 'I just didn't know for sure that you do too.'

'I think.' You reply, 'I needed to hear you say it.'

'I'm sorry Emma. You're right about it all. I think I should go.'

I hope, obviously, that you might tell me not to...but;

You just look at me blankly, not telling me not to...

'Perhaps that's best.' You reply eventually. Which stings. A lot.

You walk towards me and hand me my mask.

Ouch.

I don't bother to put it on. I don't deserve to. It will now be a bitter keepsake.

You walk with me to the door.

I turn to grasp the door handle as I do.

You look at me curiously.

'You're a strange one you know that.' You say. Circumspectly.

I shrug.

'Just not in a good way.' I reply and begin to turn the handle and pull.

Your hand suddenly finds mine, and stops it.

'Two, no three hours of sexual innuendo, culminating in my jerking you off in a public restroom...and you're just going to leave because I made you acknowledge some...harsh...truths?'

We're so close. But I feel so far.

'You heard me say it...nothing's going to happen...' I say, referring to the getting laid part.

'I'm sorry for publishing the stories M. I'll delete them.' I offer. Pathetically yes.

But you heard those words, hell you wrote them.

'Well...' You say carefully.

'But now that you have, admitted as such.' You go on.

'And now that I have my...collateral...'

'We can get back to the reason I came here....'

'Which is?' I ask, somewhat curtly, no longer in the mood for games.

'Me.' You reply. 'And what I think and feel about it all...'

'Ok. And what's that?' I ask hesitantly.

'I think...that I'm not done figuring it out yet.' You answer.

'So...you don't want me to go?' I ask, finally allowing some sort of hope to creep back in. Creep.

'Not. Just. Yet.' You say, and gently wrestle my hand free from the handle.

I let go.

'Sit down.' You say, gently, gesturing at the couch. Not back to the chair thank god.

'Well I don't know what to say or do after saying and doing that...' I say, nodding at the vacant chair, site of my shameful confession.

'That's fair...' You acknowledge. Knowing full well.

'But...it just so happens...that...I do.' You then say.

You step back, and confusingly, don your own mask.

You then take my hand more firmly and lead me to the centre of the room. Between the couches, onto a large and likely very expensive rug. I'm pretty sure that it's a good deal more comfortable and luxurious than my bed.

You then nod at my mask in my hand and gesture to put it on.

You don't say anything but there's that devilish look in your eyes again, and I can't help but think the words 'Covid-safe.' Surely not?!

I'm sure you know what I'm thinking but you seem to be content to let me continue to wonder.

'Now.' You finally say.

'I had an idea while changing I'd like to try....' You say, and then;

'You might not believe it necessarily but I can be a little shy. So I would like to do this in the dark if you don't mind.'

'Do what?' I wonder.

'I don't even know what...' I begin to say...but..

You have reached up and begun unbuttoning your shirt. I go quiet.

You look up and smile at me as I stare at you, mouth agape.

Your bra comes into brief, tantalising, titillating view when;

'Lights!' You yell out into the room and immediately the room goes dark. Not dim. Dark. This is a fancy room with fancy curtains that do their job. It's pitch black. I feel as though if I move I will trip over something.

'Sit down.' You say, from somewhere. In front of me I think.

'Is your mask on?' You ask. I can tell by the slightly muffled words that yours is.

'It is.' I reply cautiously. Hopefully!

'Why do I get the feeling that I'm not going to be happy about not being able to see anything?' I ask.

'Possibly.' You reply. Circumspect.

'But this is for me.' You explain. 'Not you.'

'Oh yes, sorry. Please proceed.' I reply.

You say nothing. I can't help but fill the void with my voice.

'Well can I ask then...What I would be seeing if the lights were on?'

'Right at this moment?' You reply. 'Not a lot.'

'Would you tell me if it were to change?' I ask bravely.

'I'm completely naked.' You reply immediately. An obvious lie. You giggle.

'No. I'm not.' You clarify. 'I'm just waiting to see if it's really dark in here or just the initial effect of turning the lights off.'

I for one can't see a damned thing!

'But I am thinking along those lines...of...undressing...' You add.

I gulp at the mere notion. And stay silent. Best to let you decide in your own time.

'Ok.' You say finally, and I hear rustling.

'You can't see anything right?' You ask, as if I might be holding out on you that I can somehow magically see in the pitch-black dark...

'No...but I'm trying to imagine.' I reply.

The rustling stops.

'Ok. Now...guess.' You say. Putting me on the spot.

'Umm...your top is off. You're just in your bra...?'

'Too obvious.' You reply. 'Too...basic.'

That hurts a little, so I try harder.

'Oh. Ok. Then....you've opened your legs a little....?'

'They're crossed actually.' You reply. Disappointed I fear. 'You think I just went and flashed myself at you straight out of the...box!?'

Box! You giggle.

'Well fuck. I don't know then...' I say.

'Consider my words carefully...' You guide me. More patient than I.

'Your top is still on, but its open....' I tender.

Silence.

Does that mean I'm right?!

It would be weird right, but still, hesitant?

'And you've pulled your bra down a little...exposing your nipples...?!' I tender into the dark once more.

Yet more silence. But then. Finally.

'Very good! What are you half-cat or something??!' You say clearly impressed.

'I swear I can't see anything.' I reply.

'Well you know me too well then it seems.'

I say nothing. But I do register further rustling...!

'Ok guess again.' You say once it is fully quiet again.

I think for a bit.

'Mask is still on.' I say, stalling for time. I can tell by the slight muffling that that is still the case.

Nothing from your end. Fair enough.

'Umm. Your bra is off now. But your top isn't...you've done that magic trick of removing it without taking off the outer layer.'

'And...' I go on. Going for broke;

'You've spread your legs.'

You giggle.

'Sorry. Still crossed.' You say, from somewhere out there.

'Fuck.' I say, frustrated, for many many reasons.

'You would know..' You say teasingly.

'Know what?' I ask.

'You would know if my legs were uncrossed...' You tease further.

'How would I possibly...' I begin to say but don't manage to finish.

And that's because I suddenly register a faint glimmer of light...a pale, greenish yellow, emanating from down towards the carpet somewhere.

I focus my gaze at it, and slowly being to make out what it is that my straining eyes can just about register.

'Oh my god.' I say, whispered but practically shouted in the quiet environment we find ourselves in.

'What?' You whisper back. 'What can you see?'

'I can see...'

'A glow in the dark....'

'Gryphon.'

Yep. It's a fucking Gryphon. No doubt about it.

You giggle all the more.

'I honestly forgot I had these...I was in such a rush to pack that...well...they found their way into my luggage..' You confess.

'I found them just now...Seemed a shame not to make some use of them!' You giggle.

'Unbelievable.' I remark, marvelling at the sight. And the knowledge that I am actually staring at your goddamed Gryphon covered crotch!

'Fanboy.' You tease, as I groan.

'Now. Your turn.' You say suddenly.

'Your shirt first.' You add quickly.

I begin unbuttoning my shirt, and pull it from my shoulders.

'Now.' You say, with an audible smile.

'Watch carefully.'

I stare at the light between your legs like a moth must stare at the moon.

And bear witness to the material slowly wrinkling and warping, and moving, ever so slowly, towards me.

You're taking them off! Oh my fucking god.

They ascend your invisible legs and, once, presumably past your feet, dangle atop one of them, hanging down like a weird glow in the dark trophy.

You then flick your foot and they fly a short distance towards me, landing on the rug between us, close enough for me to grab them...

I groan, and you giggle.

Another garment hits me in the lap...and another straight after.

I feel them, trying to make out what they are...

It's your shirt, and bra...

That means...you're naked!

My dumb male brain half expects there to be a new beacon of light shining out from between your legs. No such luck though I'm afraid.

'Now. Guess again.' You say/giggle.

'Fuck. You're naked.' Is all I manage to wager.

'No shit.' You reply coarsely. 'Fine I'll just tell you.'

'My legs....are not crossed...if you could see., you would see...all of me.' You say out into the dark.

My mind reels.

'You're not really though are you?' I ask, my turn to be dubious. 'You're just fucking with me right?'

'I am....not fucking with you.' You reply and I could almost fucking faint.

'And what do you think...of me being naked, legs spread, just in front of you...in the dark?' You ask teasingly.

'Lights!' I yell out suddenly. But. Fuck it all to hell. Nothing happens.

'Cheeky!' You say. 'That won't work sorry!'

'Fuck.' I say. Genuinely frustrated, even though it was a dick move. Can you blame me?!

'Ok. Your turn again.' You say.

'To what?' I ask.

'Strip.' You reply. 'But I'm not guessing. Pants and socks. But leave your underwear on.'

I have no reason to resist and so I duly oblige.

'Ok. We're, apparently, nearly nude. Now what?' I ask the ether.

'This is a little like the minus one thing huh?' You say, ignoring my question.

'In that you can't tell for sure that what you think is happening, is in fact happening...'

'I'm more into torturing myself in written form than reality.' I reply glumly.

'Aw. Too bad.' You retort, clearly unempathetic to my plight.

You sigh. I think, a happy one..?

'This is quite liberating actually.' You say...as much to yourself as to me.

'Wish I'd thought of this before all this.' You remark further.

I don't know what to say. My mind is boggling at the notion that you, YOU! Are naked in front of me and in positions and doing things that I can only guess at.

'I think I might like being naked.' You remark. My cock swells at the mere concept.

'I like being, presumably, naked with you.' I reply as best I can.

A beat passes. I wonder what's next. I know you're thinking the same. But you're running this non-visual freakfest.

'I could...for example...' You go on. Rustling about.

'Turn around on all fours....'

'And point my...bare bum...at you...'

'God!' You say as if you are just realising the things you are thinking, and perhaps doing?!

'I could reach back and spread my bumcheeks couldn't I? And you wouldn't even know...'

'Or...touch myself....down there...' You add, cruelly.

I can't help but groan outright. Can you imagine? Me imagining...you touching yourself just what..a foot or two...in front of me?!

'Are you...doing anything...?' You suddenly ask, with bated breath.

'I'm not, but fuck I want to be...' I reply honestly.

'Like what...?' Comes your immediate question.

'Pin the tail on the donkey?' I ask, not really thinking it through.

'Oh! Ass!' You reply. Try again dumbass.

'How about, if we can't touch each other...then....maybe...we could...ourselves...' I tender.

You groan at the notion.

'But, what if we get carried away... you might hit me....with it..' You reply...dirtily.

'It's possible.' I answer, instinctively brining my hand towards my desperate for contact cock. 'Hurry the fuck up!' It screams at me and my hand.

'Shall we...?' I ask, thinking that I should get permission, but also hoping, nay praying for a fervent 'Yes!'

You groan yet again at the notion. But.

'I don't see why I should have to tell you what I'm doing. You're free to tell me though.' You reply mischievously.

I am about to reach down and grab my cock, but you somehow time it such that you stop me just before I make contact.

'Wait.' You say. 'The Gryphon. Wrap it around you.'

Oh. Ok. I reach beside me and pick them up and, watching them as they're the only thing fucking visible, slowly place them over my cock.

'So that's where you are.' You remark.

'Now what?' I ask, desperately hoping you want me to wank into another pair of your panties.

You say nothing. And I am left panting, and praying for some kind of direction.

But then I feel it. What must be your foot slowly, gently, lower itself down until it rests upon my crotch.

I am hard and I know you must be able to feel it. I let out a groan, because I have to, and so you know that it is what you think it is.

Slowly your foot begins to move, up a little, down a little. Tracing the length of my panty-wrapped clad cock.

It presses down a little harder with each pass. And at one point, lowers enough to give my balls a gentle press as well.

'Are you a foot guy?' You suddenly ask in the dark.

'I am now.' I reply, honestly.

You snicker at that and then I feel another foot being added to the mix. Bare skinned soles on bare skin pole!

'How about feet then?' You ask. Flirty!

'Yes sorry. Feet. Definitely feet!' I reply, revelling in the sensation.

They move in unison, one up and one down. And then swap and start over again.

'Hmm. That's better.' You comment as you rub me up and down.

You press one down along the length of me.

'I'd say about a foot in length wouldn't you?' You suggest cheekily. I can't help but wonder at the likely small size of your feet and wonder if that's in fact a compliment.

I'd ask but I'm not sure I want to know the answer.

I am distracted however when you place my cock between the soles of your feet and begin giving me what I believe is the classic footjob manoeuvre.

I can't help but envisage the position that this would necessarily put you in. Legs spread wide. Nothing covering what lies between. God if only the damn lights were on!

The thought however does pull me from my reverie long enough for it to occur to me that I might reciprocate.

I stretch out my leg and find yours, your knee, and stroke it tentatively.

You register my enquiry and I hear a little groan.

'No.' You reply and your hand gently pushes my foot away.

'You need my permission to do that.' You say, to my dismay, but then add;

'Toe do that.' You correct yourself and giggle.

I groan in minor frustration, but you make it up to me by upping the pace of your feet on my rod.

Eventually you must be thinking of what else you can do, because you remove one foot and move it downwards, over my balls, and then trace along my taint....oh god.

But then...nothing. Your foot lifts off and disappears into the ether. Why goddammit why?

My thoughts are soon answered as I hear you shuffle somehow....and your lost foot reappears at, of all places...my face...

You must have scooted forward.

Your foot feels around my masked face and then, apparently having gotten its bearings...hooks its toe under the bottom of the mask.

'Lick it.' You say just as it invades the space between my mask and my mouth. I can smell your foot, and, if I'm being honest, also detect the faint scent of my balls...

Like I care about that.

I open my mouth and take your big toe, and then the rest into my mouth. Happily lashing them with my tongue.

In that moment I'm more than happy to be getting to do that; to have your beautiful toes in my mouth is as good as anything else you could be doing with me.

You however have other ideas.

Because no sooner have I thoroughly licked all your toes than you drag your foot out again.

And it promptly reappears way down at my crotch. Way, way, down if you get my drift.

Oh. You wanted lubrication I belatedly figure out. Yikes!

'What was it again...?' You ask me. 'All toes, where a toe, can go?'

Oh fuck! I meant you not me!

Your big toe rubs itself around my arsehole. Deliberately focussed on the very centre. Necessarily frugal with the limited lubrication I imagine.

You let out a giggle, and then mutter.

'Hally-toe!' And then point your foot and big toe right at my brown-eye and push forward. Toe-ward.

I smart as it overwhelms my unsurprisingly resisting sphincter.

You dig into me a bit more. You're really inside me now. And it feels...invasive. And surprising.

I can't help but straighten one of my legs at the shock of it all...and it immediately finds itself burrowing itself under you...your crotch...hot...atop the top of my foot.

I go to pull back as soon as I realise what I've done, but your hand grabs my ankle and holds it in place.

You push down upon it...and push your toe into me harder still.

I can't believe it. My foot is actually touching your...pussy! Of all the things to touch first and it's that! Perversely reverse?!