The following is an online exchange. I had posted a picture of my cat, an adorable little orange and white half grown kitten, as my profile shot. It led to some flirting which led to a challenge to write something erotic.
You should change your pic, the cat doesn't do you justice. LOL
Have a great day btw
You don't like my pussy?
Can't post anything else, don't have anything.
Sad, I know.
But one fine day when the birds are singing and I actually get my camera charged up there will two roads to take...
There will be power in my voice,
uh I mean battery,
And I will forthwith, or there abouts
Sally forth, (that's two forths)
And show my face.
And may the forth be with you.
I don't have a lisp.
I think your pussy is probably lovely ; and I look forward to seeing more of it one day ; but it would be nice to put a face to the ladies in the Harem, and once your camera is working I am sure you will be able to provide some outstanding shots - if your wordsmith is anything to go by, such wit and repartit, I look forward to communicating with you on here
if you want to!!
What shall we talk about Mr. Rochester?
The only Mr. Rochester I know was in Jane Eyre. Are you he?
Yes my dear Jane you are so observant and so meticulous with your words. I am at a loss as to how best you can serve me my dear. Suffice to say that your charitable affection is not without standing and your own affection likewise is reciprocated.
Dear me, Mr. Rochester.
I cannot serve you. My affections are with another.
Am I mistaken in believing you have the woman to whom
you swore your loyalties, alive and well in the attic? She may
have turned into a shrew, but had you been thinking with your big
head at the time of your courtship, you may likely have avoided
Further, it behooves this this reader to inquire about Jane. What have
you done with her?
Or is that her in the picture?
Tis true Mistress Jane has indeed been laid low, but she has been taken by the affliction, and not one of passion, as for my dear wife, a sad and unhoy tale that has much of its mystery, hidden in a confined space between reality and insanity. Alas my dear lady, neither of these two can hold a candle to thee; as they have not the capacity to stretch my imagination or light the fires of curiousity that is so inherrent in your make up. I mean of that your soul and not of your Max Factor, or Elizabeth Arden variety. Suffice to say it is within you to release the
bonds that bind you to a relationship that is so obviously to me that has much to fulfill before it can ever reach fruition.
That is most distressing Mr. Rochester. I do hope Miss Jane will be well again.
You flatter me to speak so of the intrigue I cause you. My make- up is rather thick, I do admit, but it serves me well, for a lady must be careful in times like these.
I've had a moment to peruse your profile Mr. Rochester and wonder that you have time, nay moments to stray off after one such as I.
Tis a burden I carry with a heavy heart, my dear but one that must be accomplished to the full extent of my capabilities; it is true I am a martyr to the cause of ladies satisfaction and this somewhat pseudo Harem bears witness to such a disclosure, but it is only by chance that these ladies do indeed invite my presence upon them and who am I to deny them that? Suffice to say your pleasure is also part of this intercourse, but I should not be as bold as to partake in anything that could be miscontrued or indeed mistaken for anything else other than a friendship over the wires; a new phenomenon which I am aghast to say is something that in my day would have been a great advantage in a courtship of great distances. As for Miss Jane, the malady that has taken hold of her in such a confounded way is what is deemed by the Dr’s as LOVE SICKNESS, to which I plead guilty.
Mr. Rochester, one might be forgiven for believing your burdens are your impotent refractory periods between conquests. as it no doubt requires some energy to satisfy the harem of whom you are master. And you may no doubt have learned by now, there is no such thing as free love.
Friendship between us, it shall be Mr. Rochester for I have my own source of pleasure, both physical and mechanical from which I am not left wanting, so long as the batteries hold out and my imagination is sparked. I do seem to have endless resources here to draw upon.
It amuses me greatly to think of this as a new phenomenon to you, as perhaps "no" has not been said to you within recent memory, except perhaps in the throes of passion, where its meaning is clearly, "yes, yes, more, oh please more, for God's sake don't stop!"
Pardon me, I do seem to have gotten carried away once again. I have to constantly be on vigil for such things.
Seems a sad waste this Miss Jane has been afflicted by love sickness. It is not curable then... with penicillin?
I've heard jealousy can lead to a length of cold steel extending from the back of the tormentor. I'd be most careful were I you.
I heed your warning which is gratefully accepted, but as you are doubtless aware I am a big man and can fend for myself – I am gratified to learn that your desires are catered for both mechancially and physically, the basics of which would appear based on urges, which I am sure you have and need to quench when required. I think perhaps with a little misgiving, that your pic of your delightful feline is perhaps an invitation to look at another pussy, one that obviously has a good deal of attention; however the resources that you have, are as you say many from which to take satisfaction, although I believe thereby lies the challenge to me and a gauntlet for which I am willing to accept - if I have misread your intention my dear lady; then accept this humble apology for you do vex me so…
A big man Mr. Rochester…whatever do you mean? I am pleased that you note that while you can take care of yourself, I too am able to do the same for me. And my adorable pussy that is featured upon this page is not an invitation per se, although I admit through crimson blushes that double entendre is not lost on me.
That my dear will be for you to discover or for your mind to deliberate upon, per chance it has much to do with the posture of your delightful image as you describe; be it open or closed to visitors of a curious nature, suffice to say that the very thought of your pleasuring yourself in this way, brings a certain excitement and adds a risque element to this missive. Particularly if at the time of writing; you were involved in such an activity of which you speak.
And that you were able to describe the throes of passion to a man who can only admire and wonder from a distance!
And what is this of Ophelia Bonbon of whom you speak?
Ophelia is the sort with whom one doesn't associate, Mr. Rochester, perfect for your Harem I expect.
Whatever can that mean Ms Anne - surely this lady is a lady. One like yourself, beyond reproach, how do you know of this lady then? Does she frequent your circle? I surmised you to be a woman of virtue; although your dalliance with a said mechanical pleasure toy does lead me to believe that you have steppped down the road of fornication once or twice. Is this the road upon whoch you met this lady?
You are right Mr. Rochester, I should not throw rocks. Ms. Bonbon has not prevailed upon me, although, she is given to pleasures of women as well as men. Perhaps I do not appeal, though it would not matter, I am not given to changing allegiances.
As for my dalliances, there have been times Mr. Rochester….
Would it be incumbent of me to ask you if you would like to disclose such dalliances as I am sure I would also like to make merry with you in such a way, in much the same way that your mechanical tool has an effect upon your person - as you do indeed excite a certain element within me Miss Anne and I am sure that this could be most pleasurable to both parties, particularly if you were comfortable which such a suggestion, as for Ms.
Bonbon she has decided to decline the invitation to join our happy band
as she has other fish to fry she tells me... In which case her sole is elsewhere and her allegiances to either gender not for us..
I would also ask if you could post a picture of yourself that does indeed do you justice, your pussy though cute is not as alluring as you undoubtedly are .... A conquest is only as good as the hunt Miss Annie.
Your undying affectionate admirer
Mr. Rochester, you are a nosy old thing. And such persistence! I fear you have probably been spoiled by the harem of which you are master. I do not go there, for it seems you are a bit of an application whore, and this slows down my computer and causes freezes and all matter of chaos. I thought perhaps at first it had something to do with the sin going on in your realm, my computer couldn't take it. But, then I noted the endless inducements and enticements, and requirements to advance, proceed and gain ever more strength and power by throwing your own friends to the wolves in droves in order to meet these standards. And while some of them are fun, and I do, as you can see, participate too, I have limits on my time that require me to spend a little time in the real world.
I do believe I already explained about photographs, and that facts hold true as yet. My camera remains uncharged.
I am aware of the fact that men are visual creatures, and do not like to find out the woman whose favor they are seeking is 20 years older than they and 50 pounds heavier with a face like a hammered in ball.
But, I figure, since you have a harem already, where luscious ladies abound, whether or not you have my pic, is of little consequence. Further, it rather amuses me to think that you might look at my picture and wonder you wasted your time in pursuit of THIS.
And so Mr. Rochester, not yet.
And you would like a story? A scenario perhaps. Maybe the truth, maybe fantasy...maybe what I do....
She feels the urge within, and closes her eyes. She puts down the book she's been reading and feels the painful clenching within her stomach. Her mind forms the image of her face at orgasm, when the tension pulls tight and rushes to release, leaving her with little strength and the need for sleep.
It would be nice if he were here, but he isn't and the urge is stronger now. She picks up the mirror from the counter and heads down to the bedroom. There she checks out her image in the sliding mirror door. She can feel the wetness between her legs, and tries not to rush it. It's much better if she doesn't rush it.
You sure you want to hear this?
Yes. I want to hear more. You are a very good writer, such eloquece of phrase and so descriptive and yes let's cut the crap - you have a very keen sense of how to turn a phrase into a suggestion - you're obviously skilled in the art of writing - which is what I had surmised. So yes, I would love to hear your words and to discover your inner self through them. "Tis a wise woman you are to be sure" - Charles Dickens Little Miss Dorit.
Some time between exchanges and then arrives the following from Rochester.
The next installment my lady where is it , surely your fluidity has not dried?
Luv Rochester XX
Patience, Mr. Rochester.
So soon? Pray it is not so !!
I wish to savour your ectasy
"Crap," she thought, "cut the crap..." he'd said.
It might be fun to tie him naked to a chair and let him watch. What would you think about that Mr. Rochester?
Over there. Your hands tied behind the chair back, and your ankles
secured to the chair legs. No clothes on, watching. Be a good idea to gag him too, he might decide to become director and ruin the fun. Listening to grunts and noises of approval was a wonderful turn on, but if he should get bossy...well, let's just take care of this in advance.
She secured him to the chair.
There you are Rochester. (All tied up).
He could smell her perfume and her sex as she walked away from him. Looking in the mirror again, she studied herself. Her hair was rather disheveled but she kinda liked the messy hair look.
She dug through the drawer at the bedside and put some toys and potions within easy reach. The pillows fluffed in a long line across the head of the bed.
She turned the lights low and stood by the bed.
She undid the buttons on her blouse, watching him watch her. Her fingers moved slowly. He didn't blink.
Her chest was heaving now and she worked hard to slow down her breathing. Eyes closed, she concentrated, in, out, in, out. She looked at him, and slid the blouse from her arms, letting it fall to the floor.
Her own master had taught her well.
She walked over to where he was. "Rochester. Would you like to help me to get my bra off?"
He nodded vigorously.
"Good. Then you must do as I say. I'm going to take your gag off, but you mustn't say a word. Nothing. I'll get down on my knees, my back to you, my legs tucked up below the chair, and you can undo my bra with your teeth."
He nodded again.
She removed the gag, and wiped the slobber from his lip with it, lingering there with her thumb.
She tucked down onto her knees and positioned herself, back straight, and head down, waiting for him. She felt him move forward and kiss her shoulder.
She stood up.
"You're not following orders, Rochester. Don't do that again," she admonished.
They stared at each other a bit, reading each other's thoughts. This was exciting the hell out of her.
She lowered herself to the floor again, her back to him.
She felt him move slowly towards the clasp of her bra, and bite it hard together, pinching a bit of flesh as he did so.
The bra came open and slid forward off her arms.
She ran her hands over her breasts, squeezing her nipples between her fingers.
He was behind her, watching intently. He could see the full front of her chest in the mirror. She had nice tits. He loved nice tits, full with small areolas.
At the foot of the bed she stopped, undid the button to her jeans and slid them off one leg, then the other.
She wore a black garter, stockings and sexy black panties beneath her jeans. She crawled up from the foot of the bed and turned, laying square in the middle, wiggling herself into a semi sitting position against the pillows.
She drew her legs up and spread them, drawing her hand down beneath her panties. She rotated her fingers in the slipperiness there. It felt good. She drew some of the fluid up to her clit and rubbed it.
From across the room Rochester could hear the slick slipping of her fingers as she worked herself, her breath, holding and releasing. He could see she was getting aroused.
His cock hardened between his legs.
She thrust her butt up off the bed and slid her fingers along the sides of her panties slipping them down over her hips. She drew her legs up and lifted them off her feet, casting them to the floor.
She watched herself in the mirror across the room, only her garter and stockings remained. She spread her legs. She could see the glistening fluids there. Her pussy was soft, smooth and felt very sexy to her touch. She was shaven clean, she loved how that felt, kind of naughty. She slid her finger between the folds and parted her pussy lips. “Mmmmm,” she moaned. She slid two fingers back and forth, rubbing the front wall of her pussy. She pushed her pelvis against her hand, stroking hard.
She took her vibrator from the bed table and turned it on. It was long, pink, and powerful. She rubbed the end of the phallus into her fluids, wetting it. She held her breath and pushed the vibrator inside her pussy. That was her favorite part, when the cock sank deep inside her. She liked a moment to enjoy the feeling before she began to fuck it. Slowly, she began to work the vibe back and forth, easing the length into her over and over again. She was very aware of being watched, though she made no glance at the man in the chair.
From his vantage point, Rochester could see the vibrator sink into her pussy over and over again. Her eyes were closed now. Her knees were bent, feet braced on the bed, hips thrust upwards as she plunged the vibrator again and again into her pussy. He could hear her moan.
Her eyes opened and he watched her draw her fingers to her nose and sniff her scent on them, drawing them over her bottom lip. He was pretty much forgotten now, she was so into masturbating.
Her hand reached the bed table again and she held a small phallus shaped object. She poured some fluid onto in and smeared it over the entire surface; then she put it under her ass, wiggling her ass onto the point of it. She moved her hand away and he watched her slowly sink onto the phallus.
Fuck this was hot.
He wanted to have her.
Make her cum.
He watched her push hard against the bed and knew when she had pushed herself over the largest part of the butt plug. The moment there where she hesitated. She relaxed a moment, caressing her abdomen and her leg, breathing evenly.
Then she picked up the vibrator once more. Her eyes made contact with her reflection aa she slowly pushed the vibrator into her cunt. It was louder now, she’d increased the speed on the control and was sliding it in and out of her. The butt plug stuck out from her ass and her sphincter stretched around it. Her ass began to rock and she was panting. She was close to cumming.
Rochester’s cock ached. He was rock hard now. His balls tingled.
He watched as her hips bucked, up and down.
“Ooooh,” she moaned.
“Ooooh.” He could tell by the tone she was very close to cumming.
He wanted to take her there, but he couldn’t.
She worked the vibrator quickly now, easing it back and forth. He could hear the slippery sucking of her pussy over the phallus.
“Aaaaaaaaaah,” she convulsed. Her body tensed hard, her feet straining as she pushed her pelvis up from the bed.
Rochester watched as lesser spasms followed.
The thundering of her heart quieted and she lay spent; her whole body relaxing.
She pulled the vibe from her vagina, and eased the phallus from her ass.
She lowered the items to the floor, and glanced across the room at Rochester.
“Mmmmmmm,” she said, and closed her eyes.
Miss Anne it has taken me several attempts to reply to you perhaps what you have written is too hot for the www, suffice to say for me it had the desired effect, as my cock rose with every word and syllable you wrote. Such talent, such vivid imagination, and so erotic, you are or should be a professional writer as you have a wonderful turn of phrase that keeps the attention, but I digress I suspect you were dressed in something slinky and sexy as you wrote this and you also gave each sentence a lot of thought too. Because I imagine you in a silky nightie with no underwear on so that when the moment or urge arose you were able to pleasure yourself ; just as you do in the story. My only question is this then Miss Anne : Do you fuck as good as you write? I suspect you do. But you should do something more with this ability, there is a site called Literotica, that you should contibute too. As for me how do I follow this ; perhaps I cannot and should submit to your will fully? There is another installment poor Rochester is in hi harem deperate to fuck you and you tantalise and tease him is this all you have in mind for me surely not. I want to feel your warm wet and luscious lips arouund my cock, sucking slowly as you draw the breath from my body. The succubus that you are rampant and alive.