Erotica#1 :: Sex Chat, by J Conatus & Maran Cole

(I have literally copied and pasted from the email i was sent, which was li-te-rally just copied and pasted from the chat box. no changes. if there are spelling mistakes and you wish to point them out to show how clever you are, please feel free to keep your nitpicking douchebaggery to yourself. Signed, editor and lord of all dotland, her magnificence in minxiness, dot.)

EROTICA_sexchat

Sex chat
J Conatus & Maran Cole

Dear you,

You live really far away, and you seem brilliant and quirky and thoughtful and kind, and it just makes me wonder…

Wanna have completely filthy but rigorously grammatically correct chat sex? 

I mean, I give GREAT head, but since you’re probably not visiting Philadelphia anytime soon (though I’d be happy to play tour guide, and hope you’d do the same), and we’re well-adjusted, consenting cyborgs, technifucking seems more realistic.

So the offer’s out there. Chat me up sometime, handsome.

That was possibly the best pick up message in the world ever. 

The rigorously grammatically correct chat sex made me laugh & turned me on in equal measure. But then you had to comment on giving great head & fantastic visions of strap on bj’s filled my already frisky head…

I checked your profile earlier & the standard annoyance of all the fun ones being far away stopped me from messaging you. 

You do seem delicious & smart & then of course there’s the cleavage. 

It is however almost 5am here & I need to be awake & fresh too soon, but I’d be very interested to know where YOU would start this hook up. 

Talk soon

Hot. Okay.

Here it’s a quarter to nine in the morning now. You’re six hours ahead, I think, perhaps just finishing up a late lunch, sipping the last dregs of a cup of coffee or tossing your apple core in the wastebin. I wonder if you’re tired from your late night…if you stop to rub your eyes from the glare of your computer and take a minute to stretch your traps, arms bent behind you, biceps tight.

I wonder if you work from home, or if you are in an office. I wonder if I could come up behind you and link my arms around yours, bend to breathe in your ear, trace my teeth along the ripple of your firm shoulder. 

In the morning, my body is ripe for fucking. It is languorous, breasts high and swollen from sleep, thighs damp. I curl against the pillow, pulling it into my body, searching for heat, for resistance, for friction, for oblivion. For five more minutes. For ten. 

Enter me fast from behind with three fingers and I’ll gasp. It’s too early for words, and I want the tender violence: don’t ask, don’t wait. I will reach back to hold your neck, pulling your body against mine, my consent in my fingers digging into your shoulder, just like my teeth, now, feel me? Behind you? Waiting? Greeting you. Announcing myself. 

Saying hello.

Sitting at my desk my hips are involuntarily bucking. My breathing is deep and loud. Goose flesh puckering at my skin. I catch myself biting my lip when my muscles clench and my full bladder pushes my cunt even deeper into desire. My thighs are not just damp. 

I am at my desk at home, tired, but now very much awake. Mary Gauthier is singing Falling out of love in the background. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3mT-nstxOVk&feature=kp It’s one of the sexiest songs I’ve heard – ever. 

My fingers are doing that slow deep fuck. The knuckle on my little finger is as wet as the fingers deep inside you. The fingers of my other hand entangled in your morning hair, pulling your head backward toward me. A light scratch of nails trails to your breast. Fingers playing, pulling, rolling the nipple I actually I want in my mouth. Cunt wet I feel, fingers thick & deep wondering what your touch would feel like. How hard could you fuck me?  Could you take my own strap on off me & fuck me with it.

You turn over. My mouth finds yours. Our tongues both slightly bitter after a long night. Our eyes both closed, not ready for the daylight creeping in my teeth close on your bottom lip, pulling it away, sucking it lightly. Release and my mouth is back on yours, insistent. 

Our bodies pressed tightly together. My breasts are tender and I love the almost painful grind of our breasts flattening each other. Our hips play together. Damp wet heat. My hands are on your ass. Spreading your cheeks just a bit. Grabbing. Pulling closer towards me. One hands finds your wet cunt again. My thumb is deep inside you. The tip of my middle finger is massaging its way to your ass. I wait for your body to respond before I move too close

Mmm. I have my own strap on, sugar. It’s lacy but tough, and I have a cock I could use on you, but I think you want my hands first. I have long, tapered fingers, nails short and smooth and fiery red, and my hands are strong. I know what you need. My body knows what you need. I want to be inside you, feeling you clench and shudder around me, your cunt wet and begging, pulling me inside you. 

But this is the moment when I want everything at once: your mouth suckling hard on my nipple, just a little too hard, while your other hand fists my hair; your cock buried deep inside my cunt from behind while I push, eager, desperate, back against you, feeling every thrust in my sensitive, quavering ass; your moans in my ear as I straddle your thigh, painting it with my come, my fingers deep inside you to give you the long, hard strokes you crave while I stroke your nipples with my hot, wet tongue; your mouth breaking away from mine, our voices breaking together, our hands slippery on our clits and our hips bucking, begging, dying, needing, coming, coming, coming, coming. 

But instead I press myself closer to you, legs wrapping around your hips, my hard nipples buzzing as they graze your chest and I offer you my ass, my cunt, breath hollow and murmuring. My mouth at your throat, your cheek, your ear, whispering “Yes.”

Fuck. You’re the fucking Helen of Troy of word fucking. If my credit card could bear it I would fly to the states just to see if you could fuck me like your words do. I’m trembling and spent and desperately wanting more

***

Sent in by J Conatus with the permission of her play partner Maran Cole. Nice one you delicious minxy perverts. Thanks a mil. Check out Jay’s other stories >

 

On The Spot with Jon Keevy and his Dirty Words

good lord *fans self*. so not going into more detail than is necessary (all is explained in the cast). but some extra tidbits: jon keevy does a lot of children’s theatre stuff. and shel silverstein, the author he refers to who wrote the dark the devil and billy markam, is also the author of two of my favourite Great Philosophical Works, the giving tree and the missing piece.

great minds.

shel silverstein

Check out the first On The Spot with Sonia Esgueira [clickety click].