Please, may I see your dick?

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Please, can I see more of you? I see you there, fully clothed, sitting with one leg propped on another, and I can’t help myself; what’s underneath? My eyes are drawn between your thighs again and again because I want to see, I want to know. It’s practically magnetic. My mind has conjured an image of you, but I want to see if it’s true. Does it look like it does in my dreams? There has been talk of it, deliciously course talk about what it can do to me, will do to me. But now, I need to see. 

Please, show me more. I want you to hear those words leave my lips and stiffen knowing just how desperately I want to see you. The idea of you showing me right then, you unbuttoning and sliding that unnecessary clothing down to show me, makes my heart race. But you don’t. You see my hunger and you want to sate it, you really do, but only if I ask the question. You have to hear the question; the question is everything. 

Please, I need to see. My palms are starting to sweat. I’ve imagined how you would feel in my hand, the weight of you, but I need to see how far my fingers would reach around it. I’ve thought about it so many times, I fear I’ve used up every drop of my imagination. What if I can no longer summon the images I’ve created and see it in my mind? What if I can no longer imagine it sliding over my tongue? What if I can no longer picture watching it entering between my wet lips? That’s why I need to see you, I need to know. 

Please, I want to see you. I’ve never wanted anything more than this; the anticipation is drowning me. The idea of seeing it snap over the waistband of your underwear as you pull them down is simply intoxicating. That first glimpse, the image I create, makes my mouth water so much I have to swallow hard. All the images that are coursing through my mind, images of you and it and us together, are making me faint. I don’t want to imagine it anymore; I want to see and feel and taste. I need to see. But only after I ask the question. I have to ask the question; the question is everything. 

Please, I have to see it. I have to see every inch. I have to see how your pubic hair curls around your base. I have to see every vein and how they fatten with blood as you grow. I have to see how your foreskin hugs your shaft. I have to see how smooth the head is. I have to see how hard you can get. I have to see your girth, your thickness. I have to see how much your balls can grow. I have to see it pulsing. I have to see what it looks like when precum drips from your slit. I have to see. I simply have to see.  

Please, please show me. You know now how much I want to see it, and that was the point. You now know and it’s making you breathe heavier. You now know and your palms are sweating. You now know and you’re becoming harder. You now know and now the anticipation is drowning you too. You’re now desperate for me to see, for me to look at you, because you know how much I want to see. I can see you swallowing hard. Now, now I ask the question. 

Please, may I see your dick?

A black and white close-up image of my lips, slightly parted, while my fingertips cradle my cheek.

Audio porn created in collaboration with Girl on the Net for her excellent project: https://www.girlonthenet.com/audio-porn/

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