The Pictures I Send Lovers

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Do you want a photo of me? Do you want a shot of my body, my face, my expression as I climax? Do you want something to look at while you’re alone, desperately wishing I was there with you? Do you want something to help you imagine touching me anywhere you want to? Do you want my body to be all yours, right there in your hand? Do you want a photo of me to wank off to, darling? 

Do you want me to make you cum? 

OK then, I’ll send you a pic. Fuck, I’ll even send you a video. Because I want you to think of me, you see; I want to be the image in your head as you release all over your hand. 

Do you want the photo of me from behind, while I’m on all fours wearing black mesh knickers? I send that one when I want you to see how my arse is perfectly heart-shaped; I want you to tell me that. I want you to see how plump and softly rounded it is so you can imagine spanking it. I want you to be able to see a glimpse of my slit through my underwear so you can think about pushing it aside to get a better look. You’re going to look at it and picture yourself grabbing my arse and pushing your face into it to lap at my pussy from behind. I want you to think of all of that. 

Do you want the photo of my bare tits, while I’m lying back on my bed? The one where my fingers are gently caressing and teasing one nipple? I send that one when I want you to see how big they really are, how gorgeously massive; I want you to comment on that. I want you to see the pale pink of my areolas so you can visualise running your tongue over them. I want you to be able to imagine smoothing your hand around the curve of my chest as you squeeze my tits together. You’re going to look at them and think about the moment your lips first meet my nipples before you suck on them. I want you to think of all of that. 

Do you want the photo of my creamy suspender-clad thighs, parted slightly as though I’m in the act of opening them for you? I send that one when I want you to imagine them embracing your face as I ride it. I want you to tell me how much you yearn for that. I want you to look at that channel where thigh meets mound and wonder how your tongue will feel navigating through it. I want you to notice the dimples of cellulite and picture dipping your thumb into them as you hold me. You’re going to look at my thighs and imagine them enveloping your waist. I want you to think of all of that. 

Do you want the photo of my face, my pretty expressive face, just as I’m about to cum? I send that one when I want you to see how perfect the dip of my cupid’s bow is; I want you to tell me just how much you want to kiss me right there. I want you to look into my almond-shaped eyes and visualise my pupils dilating as you guide my face towards your sex. I want you to see the hunger in my eyes for you. You’re going to look at my full lips and think about the sounds that will escape them as you rub my clit in little circles. I want you to think of all of that. 

Do you want the photo of my whole body, so you can see me dressed in that lingerie that makes you weak? I send that one when I trust you; when I know I can show you all of me, the parts I usually shrink away from in the mirror. I want you to realise how privileged you are to receive this, how I’m letting you in. I want you to look at my soft, undulating stomach and imagine yours pressing against it as you settle between my thighs. I want you to work out what I’d look like with my legs held above my head and what that would expose to you. I want you to think about what I’d look like in every position, from every angle. You’re going to look at my ankles and imagine gripping them to pull my body towards you across my unmade bed. I want you to think of all of that. 

Do you want the photo of my cunt, open like a book? I send that one when I’m being blunt and want to tip you over the precipice of your pleasure. I want you to tell me how much you want to delve into it with your fingers and tongue and sex. I want you to consider my raw, pink skin and what it would taste like on your lips. I want you to think about how many fingers you could stretch my tightness with and how it will feel when it grasps them. I want you to look at my little, neat clit and imagine how I’d squirm when you slowly lick it. You’re going to look at my cunt and lose control. I want you to think of all of that. 

What photo would you like of me? What photo do you want to wank off to, darling? 

A picture I send to lovers: a photo of my lying on my back, with only a white towel covering my stomach and upper thighs. My nude breasts are visible.

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

5 thoughts on “The Pictures I Send Lovers

  1. I love your rhythm, your flow, the beat of your prose. Thank you for your bravery, your candour and your light touch. Your words leave the page, and flow into my brain, effortlessly. Your writing reminds me of AC Grayling, in the way that it reads as a first draft, but a first draft where not a single word, not a single piece of punctuation, could be changed without diminishing it. Thank you. Email me. (Kiss)

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