How does one say good-bye to a passion that was all consuming? How does one let another go who has truly understood them? How can I release you into the arms of another?
Yet, I know I must. I have no other option, do I? We were a fleeting moment in time. A strong surge of passion never to be forgotten and never to be denied. But now, you belong to some one else. You wear her ring, and she wears yours. I must find the strength to move on and find the one I can share that passion with again. Have I found him? Is he the one in my life now? I have to believe this is true, not for my own sanity but because I know that you would want this. I know you would want me to be happy and fulfilled, as I do you. I take comfort in that, my heart.
But how does one resist the memories that come flooding back? The shared passions, the words of endearment, the gifts shared and treasured? With time, I suppose – for both of us. I know I am still in your thoughts and in your heart, as you are in mine. I hope a friendship has been forged that will enable us to forever face the future as confidants. Hopefully, through life’s ups and downs, we can retain that measure of friendship and sharing. Hopefully we can come to grow into a different type of relationship. A relationship that is honest and clean and pure and pleasurable.
Ah, but those nights of hearing your voice is something my brain will not forget. I hear you sometimes, in the quiet of the nights. When I lie awake in my empty bed and dream of what was and what might have been. I think back on those nights when our phones connected us to each other, when our passions were ignited by our words and cries of pleasure. Some might say that wasn’t real. Maybe it wasn’t. But the pleasure certainly was, wasn’t it?
You know, there is one night I remember so very clearly. I wonder if you do as well? Have you forgotten, my heart? Or does that night still ring clearly in your mind. As you lie awake at night. Next to your sleeping wife. Your passion having gone unmet for the time being. Do you think of such things, I wonder?
Remember that night in October? The phones pressed against our ears, the light conversation that filled the first few moments of our time together. You told me of your day, and I told you of mine. We encouraged each other in the days ahead. Lying there in the dim light of my room, on my bed with the slight breeze blowing in from the window. Feeling the caress of the breeze against my skin and shivering. But was the shiver from the breeze or from your voice?
The tone of your voice changed, and I knew what is to follow. Your voice grew husky, your need evident in the way you called me your pet. You asked me to stroke my nipples and to tell you how they felt. Stiff and hard, the skin puckered to my touch. I described this to you and I heard the sound of pleasure in your voice. I ran my fingers over my breasts and felt their heaviness. I described the round firmness of my breasts to you and you asked me to squeeze and pinch and slap until I cried my pleasure into the phone.
Then you asked me to produce a dildo. “Fill yourself” you told me. You wanted me to stuff my pussy with the artificial meat of my plastic toy. I reached into the drawer by my bed and produced my dildo – eight inches of flexible firm plastic and ran it along my slick slit. Your instructions were plain to not have me push the toy into myself just yet. Just run it along my pussy and let me feel my wetness. My groans let you know how willing I was to follow your instructions and how much pleasure I derived from it.
“Shove that fake cock between your lips, my slut,” came the sound of your voice over the phone.
I placed the toy between my lips, tasting the slightly salty taste of my pussy as I did so. Following the instructions of your voice, I slipped the dildo further between my lips until the toy reached the back of my throat. I hear your voice coming in short gasps and I know your fist is moving fast along your cock. I shove the dildo further into my throat until I gag, and your delight in this is unmistakable. You tell me to keep doing this. Keep ramming the dildo down my throat, imagining it is your cock pushing its way into my mouth. I felt my pussy grow wet and so ready to be entered and fucked. I wanted to tell you this, but I could only moan through my pleasure.
“Yes, my fuckslut,” your voice comes across the miles, “that’s it. Suck that dildo, choke on that fake cock as if it were my own.”
I run my tongue over the plastic and feel the contours of the toy. In my mind, I imagine it is your cock between my lips and sliding across my tongue. I gag occasionally, yet your words of happiness makes me continue, makes me want to seek out that happiness and joy.
“Now, slut, take that cock from your mouth and place it at the entrance to your pussy,” you voice is husky with your lust.
I slide the cock from my lips and place it against the folds of my pussy. Your instructions are clear: ram the toy deep into my pussy, at least five inches, in one motion. My pussy is wet enough and aching to be filled. I rammed the toy deep inside of me, gasping with pleasure as I did so. I hear your voice of pleasure come to me and I know that your hand has increased its rhythm on your cock. I imagined your cock filling me and fucking me. I imagined your body above mine thrusting deep into my pussy, and pressing me into the mattress.
“Get your vibrator, cockwhore,” your words simply say. “Low speed, right now!”
I rammed the fake cock deep into my pussy and reached for the vibrator. Setting it buzzing on low speed, I follow your instructions to place it on my clit. Immediately, I am consumed by waves of pleasure. I was so close to cumming. So close to crying out my pleasure. But you would not have that. Instead you chose to tease and tempt. You told me not to cum without asking permission first. As I ran the vibrator over my clit, I fucked my pussy hard. I could hear your breathing hard, could almost hear your hand sliding along the shaft of your cock. You further tempt me with words about your pre-cum oozing from your cock. You ask me if I would like to lick it off. In between gasps of pleasure, I tell you I do and I would if only I could.
Your voice tells me that I have pleased you and I find even more pleasure in this. Then, unexpectedly, you tell me to increase the speed of my vibrator. You tell me not to move it from my clit and to pound my pussy hard with the toy. Your instructions were to fuck my pussy as a man who seeks only his own pleasure, as that is how you want to fuck me. I spread my legs wide, eager to please and follow your words. I ram the cock into my pussy faster and harder. The vibrator buzzes my clit and I can feel my orgasm building within me. I squirm on my bed, consumed with pleasure.
“Master, may I cum now,” I barely breathed into the phone.
“Does my slut think she should?”
“Yes, Master, oh please. I can’t hold it back anymore. Please, Master, please!” I find myself begging, but I don’t care. I want to beg. I wanted you to hear me beg and plead for release.
“Very well, my fuckslut, you may cum. But do not remove that toy from your clit!”
I felt my legs stiffen and my orgasm building. All my concentration was focused on the toy buzzing my clit. I could hear myself moaning and crying into the phone, and I knew how much you enjoyed that. And, as always, your pleasure was my pleasure.
I cried out into the confines of my room as my orgasm overtook me. Shaking and quivering, calling out your name, I let my body find its release. I imagined you were in the same room, watching me, your hand stroking your cock and smile playing along your lips. I felt as though the convulsions of my orgasm would never cease, that I would stay at that plateau forever. Yet, slowly, softly I felt my body float back to the softness of my bed. The dildo had fallen from my pussy and lay wet and slick between my thighs. My heart was pounding in my chest, and breathing was almost impossible.
I no longer heard words from you. Rather, I heard your grunts and groans and gasps. I knew your hand was flying over your cock, the image of my body racked with my orgasm filling your mind. And I want this as much as you do. I want to hear you cum, I want to hear you explode and lose your mind to pleasure.
“Yes, baby,” I whisper into the phone. “Cum for me, baby. Let me hear you cum, let me know that your cock is exploding at the thought of filling my cunt. Imagine fucking my slick, wet pussy. Think of ramming your cock deep inside of me until I cry out in a mixture of pleasure and pain. Think of me turning onto my stomach and spreading my ass cheeks for you, inviting you to fuck my ass, baby. You want to fuck my ass, don’t you? I know you do. You want that tight puckered hole, don’t you? You want to ram that cock of yours deep into my ass and own it and make it yours. I do, too. Own my ass, baby. Fuck it and make it yours, only yours!”
Your grunts and gasps fill my ears, and I know you are cumming. I imagine you on your bed, your cock in your fist, your jism flying up across your stomach. Your grunts are animalistic and primitive. And they filled my head and body with hot desire for you. I heard you trying to breathe, trying to control the beating of your heart. I hear your groans of slight pain as your squeeze the last of your spunk from your cock. I hear you say thank you and I smile.
Then I hear the giggle. Remember that, hon? The giggle that said it all. That you had just had an orgasm to beat all other orgasms. Did I ever tell you how much I delighted in hearing that? Perhaps so.
Then the soft talking after our bodies were sated. Murmuring how much pleasure we derived from each other and how wonderful it would be if we were to meet. Both of us becoming tired, each seeking out sleep and not yet wanting to disconnect the voice that we both yearned to hear. However, sleep would rule the night, and eventually we would murmur our good nights and seek the slumber and contentment of dreams.
Now you share that once empty bed with another. You say you still think of me, and that brings a smile to my face. I have also moved on, and as well share another man’s bed. Yet, now it is real for both of us, unlike the virtual reality we once shared. Both of us have reached happiness in our own way, but I hope to always cherish those special nights we shared. I hope you do as well.
Take care, my heart, and know your voice still haunts me when I sleep alone sometimes. It gives me comfort to think mine does you as well. Our memories will live on, and for that I am grateful. You are a special memory to me.
Hugs and Kisses
Your Angel
