I spent most of my day perched in front of my computer. I spoke to a number of delicious humans, desiring heated attention and providing much of the same.
I took a break here and there to take care of life, but mostly, I sat panting and aroused.
I made a call in the afternoon, breathing heavily into the ear of a man unable to reciprocate. I came, breathy and warm under my blankets.
Work is bondage as much as any rope I might tie or command I might give. He promised me he’d take care of it later. An offering to the washroom gods, methinks.
He did and he told me how explosive it was.
I envy the ejaculators. I can squirt when I come, but it’s different. It goes all over. I can’t aim it.
I want to be there when it happens. When the come flies free and the orgasm tears out of the throat, a gasping, screaming release. I adore the orgasm. Watching someone else in the deepest throes of passion, well, it has no comparison.
Not a one.Jan262011
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