“Everything in the world is about sex except sex. Sex is about power.” ~ Oscar Wilde
The irises of my lover’s sea-blue colored eyes, the dilated sunburst pupils, and the brilliant luster’s gilts remind me of golden poppies in full bloom. I want to lose myself entirely and drown in those bottomless churning cerulean pools, until the sudden pain. Before the stinging ache of his powerful grasp, brings me back to where I am.
Where am I? In an oversized canopy bed veiled behind flowingly sheer ivory gossamer-like draperies that moves to and fro swaying gently with the Mediterranean cross breeze coming in through the spaciously open floorplan of our indulgence hotel suite. We’re enveloped in luxuriously soft Egyptian white cotton bedding and even though the vast exquisite Aegean sea surrounds us, overcome am I, my senses flooded by his presence as I stare at him in wonder, watching his every move that reveals his lascivious intentions.
Shivers of anticipation course up and down my spine then outstretched arms when he roughly binds both wrists overhead effortlessly as if I were a doll, and it’s not far from the truth. I am his toy, fuck doll, his plaything, I belong to him. I’m his no-limits submissive lover, and he drives me to the brink of madness from extreme arousal. He has me slickly wet. The honey-like nectar trickles down my craving female sex. Wetness pools in a sweet puddle around my needy bare pussy like candied vanilla glaze slowly drizzling from a summer icebox cake just out from the fridge. Shiny beads of liquid sugar coast down from my lower treasure and below like the dew, the droplets of condensation dripping down on the warming to room temperature dessert, I’m melting and my juices flowing.
In pure reverence, I worship this beautiful man. Dazed and reeling in my lust-fueled trance, he makes me feel intoxicated, drunk, and has since day one. It’s disgusting how badly I want and need him to use me. I’m shaking… no, I’m quivering with an urgent desire for him to take me roughly.
Mad wanton hunger tinged with a touch of uncertainty and nervousness rushes through my veins. There are times like now when everything about him makes me feel vulnerable and slightly insignificant. Like the way, his broad shoulders, full, muscular chest, and towering stature cover my body, making me fragile and weak. This game of dominance and docility, I wish I could keep up the performance a bit longer. However, when I notice his swiftly swelling cock and the wicked devil welling up inside him, I can’t hide my frantically building appetite or needs since there’s nothing demure or remotely shy about the libidinous simper on my pouty bright pink glossed lips when I plead. Like a whore, I beg for his big thick uncut, heavily veined beautiful white cock and moan sultry, “Give me.” And he does, the way only HE can… fucking me like a beast and hurting me so damn good.
~ Helene 2.16.2020
This little visually descriptive snippet of erotica exemplifies some of the love letters I used to write for William. For a moment in time, he was my muse, and with over ten of thousands of written exchanges between us, I’d lose myself for hours while conjuring up such fantasies even though we’ve never met face to face. I’ve never seen him in person, tasted his kiss, or felt his touch because our unusual courtship was in the world of cyber-dating, sexting, and he was my internet lover.
I met William in the fall of 2019 on a sex chat site. He is a New Zealander, much younger than me, who ironically happened to be a teacher in my homeland South Korea out of all places. I wish I could say he stood out from the other ‘admirers’ from the very start, but he didn’t. I don’t recall our first communication verbatim. Yet, I can recollect his manners were impeccable, and from his messaging style, it was apparent he was well educated, eloquent, and possessed cheeky banter that dry-humored style I relish most.
However, before I go any further, I must begin my stories from the start of my online escapades. The purpose behind mentioning William first is because he holds a special place inside my heart. Not because he was the first individual I had sexual interactions with, although my beloved Kiwi partner was certainly and unquestionably the most memorable of all my many sexting online encounters.