Reading to You

You're not online yet, so I'm writing this story in the hope that you might come on while I'm typing. I still want to talk dirty with you later on, either by phone or online, I don't mind. By phone is so much better though. I love to hear your voice and your laugh. I love the way you sigh when I confess how and where I want to touch you, and I love the way you go silent when I tell you I want to fuck you: maybe I'll read that story you asked me to. I know that will arouse you, get you hot and excited. I can imagine I am there kissing you, touching you, feeling you in my hands, and with each word of each sentence I can watch you get hotter, hornier, becoming wetter and wetter........Mmmmmm, I want you now.

Lying together in the still heat of the late night, I decide to read to you. I find this relaxing and soothing with you beside me. I pick up one of your books and begin to read the story of fist fucking to you - the one you had hinted at earlier. Maybe it's my voice and the words; or the heat and the stillness of the night, but I sense you are comfortable as you nestle into my chest. A sweet lightening bolt of electricity surges up my spine and a tingle tantalises my groin.

As I read slowly and softly to you, I emphasise obvious words: feel; fist; fast; furious. I find pleasure in the way you react to the words; your schoolgirl like giggles, the way you move slightly when I whisper certain words in your direction, words like 'penetrate' and 'swollen' and 'wet' and 'throbbing'.

Just lying there in my arms you are really turning me on. God how I want you. And though I want you right now, this minute, I must concentrate my efforts, and remain devoted to my cause: you. I must keep reading, slowly and carefully. I must allow you to savour every word, to drink it in, to turn you on. I want to offer you just the right amount of time in order for you to the reach the same delicious state of arousal I find myself in.

Briefly I stop reading. Your black negligee has ridden up slightly to reveal only the slightest hint of a dark patch of hair. I see your hand resting just above it, but when I continue to read on, you move your hand to the place I desperately want to go. Now I am torn between continuing to read, or to commence writing a chapter of our own.

I decide that I must continue to read. Your eyes are closed, and I scan the book and watch you at the same time. As words spill from my mouth I imagine they are forming pictures in your mind, heating you up and turning you on: because soon you begin to touch yourself. It is perhaps you playing with me, seeing if you can make me falter, make my reading poor.

I watch as you run your hands over your hidden pussy and up over your negligee, over your breasts. I read and watch your nipples stiffen as you rub your fingers over them and your hands run down your sides again. You lift your hips slightly, and part your legs a little. You run your hands up your sides again, tugging gently at the satin lightly draping your thighs. I am tantalized by the view of your flesh.

Your hands slide over your breasts again and this time you expose the nipples a little through the lace. I am finding it hard to read on, and I falter momentarily, but the voyeur within does not want to act in any way that will halt this private peep show. I read on.

Soon you are moaning, ever so slightly, as though you want to distract me, still your eyes are closed. I will not give in. In order not to distract me from this task, I choose to move position on the bed. I move away from you, and now I face you. I am able to look over the book now, and glance up and along your legs, over your breasts to your face. You have moved a little too. Your legs are now together and your breasts covered, you have stopped moaning. You lay there waiting for me to continue. I hadn't realised I'd stopped reading.

Now that I have stopped reading, you have stopped moving. The room becomes quiet and still. I notice your breathing, it's harder and louder. You open your eyes and look directly at me.

"Keep reading" you demand, and suddenly spread your legs wide apart, right in front of my face.

You are very wet and I become even harder at the sight of your swollen lips, glistening in the dim light. You pull at your negligee from the top again and expose a breast to the room. I watch you run your hand over it, pulling and pinching at the nipple. It stands so erect and hard: and so do I.

It is so hard for me to concentrate as I watch you, and I stutter and stammer my way through a few sentences; sentences I'm sure I've read before. I look up over the book and I see your hand at your pussy, playing with the lips, so wet and full. I groan a little at what I see, and what I want to do. I look up towards your face, and you are looking straight at me, your eyes wide open. You lift your self and move closer toward me. Again, you spread your legs wide apart and now your pussy stares open mouthed at mine.

You let me watch as you ever so slowly put one, and then another finger deep inside yourself. This makes me moan loudly, as I watch you slide them in, and as you take your fingers out, I notice with envy how they glisten. I wish those were my fingers sliding deep inside you, my fingers glistening with your sweet juices.

My dick is rock hard and trying to bust through my shorts. Impossible to continue, I've abandoned my reading and the book slides to the floor. My hands go to my pants and I quickly pull them off. My dick, finally free of its restraint, stands straight up to attention, but I look past it to you, playing with your self. Your eyes are still on me, on my face, watching me watching you. I want my hand to be touching, squeezing and pinching those erect nipples. I want my fingers to be sliding in and out of those glistening swollen lips, and I want to be inside you, feeling you squeezing my cock in your pussy. I want you and I want you now. I can't hold back any longer and I come quickly to wear you lay teasing me with your open portrayal of womanhood, and slide deep inside of you.

My dick is seriously aching and is growing bigger in my hand. I wish I were there with you, watching you finger yourself. I think I could come right now - if I clasp my hand a little tighter around my dick and give it a quick pull, I'm sure I would. My dick is throbbing just thinking of you; I need release. I'll phone you soon.