It’s been too long.
Yes. It has.
I’ve been thinking about you.
Is that right?
Yes. Right thoughts, wrong thoughts. Filthy, depraved thoughts.
I never would have guessed.
I know I’m a bad man for neglecting you, darling. Do you think you could ever forgive me?
I might be able to forgive you. “Might” being the operative word, there.
I’ve been reading your words.
And looking at your photos.
Now, you’re definitely forgiven.
In the name of research, of course.
“Research.” Of course.
They are… You are… You still are…
You always have been. To me.
I have a confession to make.
You don’t like the photographs after all.
I’ve been stroking my cock to them.
Oh yes, darling. I’ve been a dirty voyeur reading your words, looking at your body. I look at you while I stroke myself, taking my stiff cock to a hard, leaking missile, thinking about all of the things I want to do to you, thinking about the other men that might be getting off on you.
You’ve had that effect on me from the very beginning. You know that.
I wasn’t so sure there for a while.
I bet there are quite a few of them out there jerking off to you.
You like that idea, don’t you?
You always have.
My lips, my mouth, my pussy, my tight little hole being taken and possessed by other men and used for their pleasure.
Oh. Fuck. Yes.
And their mouths and hands and cocks taking pleasure, giving pleasure, giving me pleasure, more pleasure than I’ve ever known, more pleasure than I can physically bear, more pleasure than…
Say it. I want you to say it. I need you to say it.
More pleasure… More pleasure that you can possibly ever give me on your own.
It turns you on even as it makes you a little crazy, doesn’t it, baby?
Oh fuck, yes. I’ve been thinking about you, thinking about this so much lately. I can’t get it, and you, out of my head. And those other men that want to fuck you. I get so hard knowing there are other men that want to fuck you just as much as I want to fuck you, as urgently, as savagely, as completely as I want to take you, fuck you, use you, mark your fair, pretty skin.
Actually, there are a few contenders.
There’s my little slut. Will you tell me about them?
There are five men, five very different men with radically different bodies and personalities and sexual desires. Five men that make me thump, that make me wet, that make me want sweet things, dirty things, downright debased things. Five men I want so intensely I fuck myself softly, brutally, passionately. Thinking of them, fantasizing about them leads my hands to my cunt no matter where I am or what I’m doing. It leads one, then two, then three fingers into my dripping slit, it leads my thumb to my needy, swollen nub, it leads my hands to my hot aching flesh, to my breasts, to my hard rosy peaks.
And this insatiable hunger and need will lead me to them. To all of them.
Oh, fuck. Fuck. You made me shudder. You’re making me shudder. My hands are shaking.
I’m so glad, baby. I like making you shake. It excites me like you wouldn’t believe knowing I have that effect on you. I’m dripping wet knowing my greedy appetite has that effect on you.
It does. You do. My throbbing cock and the precum smeared all over my stomach proves you do.
Oh, that’s quite the delicious picture, lover. And you’re quite the exceptional man. Trembling, leaking, salivating, feeding off my perversity, off my need for men in their multiplicity. Off my need for you to be my filthy little voyeur.
Oh, I do. I do. With you, I do. I’m hard in an instant thinking of them taking you, spreading you open, filling every hole, roughly pounding your cunt, your ass, your mouth and throat, painting your petite body in rivers of their cream, you moaning and screaming from the extremity of a pleasure you have lusted after for so long.
I’m hard now imagining… oh fuck… picturing a big, thick shiny dick sliding out of your well-fucked cunt, come slowly oozing, dripping, coating your inner thighs and your ass as he straddles your face and your lips and tongue lick him clean.
You’re such a dirty slut.
Yes, I am.
I like having you as my slut.
You like being my slut, don’t you?
I can’t hear you, slut.
Yes, yes, yes.
That’s better. Shall I tell you, then, what I have in store for you, my slut, my whore, my beautiful little fucktoy?
Oh. Fuck. Yes. Please.
I like hearing you beg.
Oh fuck. Please, please.
I can’t quite hear you, slut.
Please. Please. Please.
That’s much better.
I’ve decided I want you there for the first of them. To see me with the one man I want the very most. The one who makes me throb and pulse and thump at the sheer thought of his hands, his mouth, his cock, his overpowering body. The one who sets off my starvation with the sound of his deep voice. The one who sets my cunt salivating with a single piercing look. The one who will eat me and fuck me and take me as no other has ever done before.
And all the while you’ll be tied to the chair by the bed, your painfully erect, uncut man-meat leaking delicious nectar onto your beautiful caramel skin, begging for touch, for my touch, begging for my mouth, my lips, my cunt, my hole as you watch him use and control me.
As you watch him make me his dirty little slut.
Oh, god. Fuck. No. Yes. Yes.
Yes, my darling, you will be there to witness it all. To witness the possession and domination of a body you know so well. To witness another man’s voracious cunt love being sated by me and me alone. To witness his lips and tongue devouring my clit, my kitty, my arse. To witness his hard cock filling me to the brim, his rock ramming, pounding, fucking my pussy, his hands searing my skin, grabbing at my flesh. To witness his thick, pink flesh penetrating the tight little hole I’ve only ever wanted possessed by you until now. To witness this big, strong hulk of a man smearing his face, his chest, his cock, every inch of his skin with my flowing juices, branding himself as my new lover.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
And once he’s done, once my spent, fucked, stretched, marked body has been his, after he is done making me his slut, I’ll proceed to make you mine.
Oh god. Oh god. Yes. Yes.
I’ll proceed to wreak my revenge on your body, a tender and brutal revenge I know you crave more than anything else.
Oh, fuck. I do. I do. I don’t know why but I do.
I care not why you do, my darling slut. I merely care to give you what you need and desire most.
I know, I know. The dance is on, lover. Yet again.
It’s been too long.
Yes. It has.