Out of Practice

"So did you take care of everything?"

Yeah, I knew what that cryptic message meant. It actually had gone to a place that excited me. Talking about this via text with her . .well it kind of created a safer place for it. We obviously knew each other pretty well, but having the two steps back really made it easier on me. Probably both of us really.

"No, not yet."

"You don't need to anymore?"

"Oh I think I definitely need to."

"When will you?"

"Maybe right before bed."

There was a little pause for about a minute. I started to write four different times but didn't know what I should really say. She beat me to it again.

"I can wait if you want to take care of it now."

Holy shit. She was suggesting I masturbate as she sat there. Waiting for me. Could I even do it? I think I could. I honestly was hard AGAIN and it was completely due to her.

What would a woman do while she was waiting for a guy to finish masturbating? Knit? The dishes? A crossword puzzle? Would she sit there and actually imagine me doing that? That's what I would do, well except I wouldn't be imagining a dude.

"If I take care of it now, how would you occupy your time?"

Another short pause.

"Oh I can find something to do. :-)))" Can a guy get harder when he is fully hard? I am getting ready to answer that question. I wasn't 100% sure what she meant but I could guess.

So I found myself writing my cryptic response, "Ok, I will take care of my stuff and you can take care of your stuff."

She responded quickly, "Ok. Now?"

"In one minute. Need to get prepped."

"Of course! Me too. Let me know when you are ready. :-)"

"Ok." Was this really happening? Apparently it was.

So I locked my door. Brady very rarely came into my room anymore but one never knows. When he was little he spent a lot of time sleeping in my bed, but that no longer was the case.

I stripped and moved quickly back over to the keyboard with box of tissues in hand.

"All set?" I typed. Regardless of the amount of nervousness I felt right underneath the surface, my member was literally sticking straight out. Anticipation and a vivid imagination picturing her getting ready really was about to send me over the edge.

About 20 seconds later, "Yep. I am ready."

"Ok. I am starting."

"Me too."

And then things got quiet, textually speaking. I couldn't speak for her side but I did some heavy breathing.

I could make this a very very very short timed experience as thinking about her, and then thinking about her leaning over and intentionally showing me what she showed me, and then thinking about her wanting me to do this, and then thinking about her doing what she was doing .. Well that all was pretty potent thinking.

So I slowly stroked, enjoying the rhythm. I imagined her using fingers but wasn't sure. Before I knew it I was typing. "Are you using any aides/ devices in your stuff right now?"

It took about five seconds. "None."

'Thank you." That felt dorky. Why would I thank her for giving me information about her masturbatory techniques. Even as dorky as that was I still didn't lose rhythm as I kept stroking, now surely thinking about her and just her fingers. That was so unbelievably hot.

Then I saw her message pop up, "Are you close?"

I slowed down and typed with one finger, "anytime."

"Me too."

Another small pause. Should I go ahead and just let her know? "Want to together?" I wrote it quickly.

"Yes" is all she wrote.

"Ok. Counting down from 5." That was easy enough to do with just my left hand.

"5" I wrote. I pictured her fingers circling her clit as she sat at the screen. My fingers gripped around my shaft, moving quickly. Squeezing. I felt pressure.

"4" I wrote. Maybe her one hand was on her lower lips while the other massaged a nipple . .Pinching and squeezing. Each stroke brought me closer. I wasn't sure I would get to 1 before letting loose.

"3" I felt the tightening of my balls. Was she moaning quietly? I loved moaning. Loved hearing it. This was going to be big. My breathing really picked up pace and I tried to maintain quiet while I moaned.

"2" I moved my hand faster and faster. Her toes might be curling as she sat, her thighs completely spread. Was she completely naked as she pleasured herself? Looking at my words? Waiting on me? My fingers squeezed a little as my hand moved up at each pass to the head of my cock. I looked briefly to where the tissue box sat, making sure it was in reach.

I finally felt the waves begin. I had seconds. I managed to type a "1" as I felt the rush. Tingling. Wave after wave of my juices flowed out of my tip. I nearly doubled over. I looked up to see "yessssss" written on the screen.

And if it was even possible, that increased the pulsing. I pictured her legs up in the air, her fingers pressing against her clit and her stifling a long moan as she tried to type that one word to me. God that was a very hot image.

I used my tissues to clean up the bit of a mess I made, mostly on myself but a little on the floor unfortunately. My half hard dick hung free between my legs as I stared at the screen, and a smile came to my face.

Would it be the saddest thing in the world for that to be the most amazing sex I had experienced in a decade?

"Still there?" I saw the words pop up as I ran my fingers through my hair.

"Yes. You ok?"

"Very. You?"

"Very."

We sat in silence for a few minutes, likely in recovery. Well that would be me in recovery. I had no idea what was going on for her.

A message popped up again, "Is it weird that I really need to be held right now? LOL!"

"Too bad I am not there. I would be happy to do it." And then I almost regretted writing that, until I thought that it wasn't like we hadn't just done something amazingly intense together, without being together. I think holding her or hugging her would unbelievably innocent in the context of what just happened.

And the thought of her naked and spent body curled up with mine nearly made me hard again. Nearly.

"Too bad is right. :-)" And then she immediately wrote again, "Thank you Jack. That was actually both interesting and very lovely. Good night and I am looking forward to seeing you soon."

"Good night, Sadie."

I closed down the window and just sat there. And tried desperately to figure out how to categorize this relationship. It didn't exactly fit in any category. Did it need a category?