“What about Natalie?” The cyber junkie repeated Lauren’s question with blatant cynicism, as he raised an eyebrow.
He directed his attention to the unrequested action playing out on his computer monitor, and he watched Lauren slowly remove the hand-blown glass dildo from her tunnel. He felt an awakening in his cum-soaked tool as he observed one long rope of her cum drippings form between her labia folds and the translucent toy.
With no intention of answering Lauren’s question, the cyber junkie asked, “Did I say that you could remove the plug or the dildo, Lauren?”
“No, you didn’t,” Lauren shifted her bottom on the sofa and adjusted her tablet. She sensed the chastisement coming. With fear and anxiety, she clenched her anal cavity around the butt plug to hold it stable.
“Then what the hell are you doing?” he asked in a ‘matter of fact’ quiet tone.
“I--I… At the top of this Skype
call, you said we had twenty minutes. We’ve been going at it for at least twenty-five minutes. So, your time is up!”
In that moment, her role-play broke. Her veil of submission vanished, as her tongue spewed the truth. Lauren had a sharp sass-mouth that was no respecter of person. Her tone was direct, and she was out of order. Lauren could talk back something wicked, dole out unwanted directives, and distribute unsolicited advice to anyone who was willing to skip in, fall in or buy into her bullshit. She was a puppeteer. She had to be in control of everybody and everything with the exception of two situations: her personal achievement and her time with the cyber junkie.
She was unable to successfully manipulate and control the outcome of her most private and personal desire, which was to become a licensed practicing attorney. Lauren partied through law school, and she lost focus of her long-term goals. See, she failed the bar examination twice. Sex consumed her actions then as it does now. The second exception to Lauren’s puppetry was the recurring encounters she experienced with the cyber junkie. The only control Lauren had in these situations was the act of relinquishing possession of her personal marionette strings into the hands of the cyber junkie.
“Push the Icicle
back in your pussy, bitch. And for your blatant disobedience and smarty-mouth, tighten the belt around your breasts one more notch,” he loved to punish Lauren in a calm and soothing voice. The cyber junkie was aware that the juxtaposition of his tranquil voice and his demanding tasks aroused Lauren. The pain Lauren experienced always sent trickles of liquid excitement down the insides of her caramel thighs. He loved to watch her river run.
Obediently, Lauren picked up the floral end of the slick glass dildo, and she slid it back inside her vacant snatch. Wincing, she felt the return of pressure from the double penetration of the Icicle
butt plug and the matching dildo. She removed a fresh terry hand cloth from her black satin bag and wiped the slick off her hands. As instructed, Lauren unfastened the buckle of the brown belt around her breasts, struggling to tighten it around her voluptuous DD cups. She exhaled every molecule of whisky-breath in her lungs and hunched her rib cage in until she finally got the belt fastened. Lauren’s overstuffed cavities and her lack of oxygen were an incredible turn on. She wanted to cum again.
It was 10 p.m. on a Wednesday; he normally got home from work by six-thirty, seven at the latest. He always called when he was running late. That was his norm Monday through Thursday. He reserved Fridays and the weekends for his children.
After last night’s fiasco, Natalie wondered what was really going on with Cameron. Natalie knew that she was a desirable black woman; her beauty commanded attention wherever she went. Her pecan tan skin was the subject of constant compliments. Men’s eyes (some women’s eyes too) remained fixated on Natalie’s sumptuous breasts when she engaged in conversations. Working out and eating healthy were priorities in her life. She was a brilliant attorney, and she loved sex. What more could a man want? What would make Cameron sexually non-responsive for the past six months with all she had to offer?
Natalie sipped on her cup of chamomile tea, leaned against the mahogany chest in her walk-in closet, and took mental inventory of his belongings. His clothes amounted to four suits, five dress shirts, one pair of khaki’s (he never wore blue jeans), two polo shirts, and three pairs of dress shoes. Natalie surveyed the top two drawers of the chest and found his underwear, socks, and t-shirts accounted for and present. His Louis Vuitton
satchel lay on the top shelf of her closet. He hadn’t left her; not yet.
She’d been his girlfriend for two years. But the last six-months, their sexual encounters went from pure elation to dry boredom. They had many professional commonalities that made the attraction and ultimately the relationship inevitable. They met at his offices during the negotiations for a case. Cameron wasn’t involved in the day-to-day legal activities. But when he saw Natalie through the floor-to-ceiling glass wall of conference room B, he had to meet her.
Natalie grabbed her phone, and she dialed Cameron. The call went straight to voicemail.
“Hey. It’s past ten. I’m wondering where you are and if you’re okay. Send me a text or call me to let me know you’re all right, okay?”
She was uncertain if she should be worried for his safety or mad because of his silence. It was 10:30 and he hadn’t returned her call. Natalie weighed her options. Concern of his well-being won over the potential that Cameron might view her actions as psychotic. So, she decided to head to his office.
Lauren found a sick comfort in the narcissistic mind of the cyber junkie. His self-serving, arrogant, and sometimes masochistic demands aroused her.
Cameron was a clever attorney; a self-made man with his own successful law firm. He established his practice some eighteen years ago. He spent very few days between the wooden walls and marbled floors of the courtroom anymore. Cameron had become nothing more than a fifty-year old prop in a corner office and a price tag with a value of nothing with respect to the day-to day operations of the firm. So, he became addicted to cyber sex. He enjoyed ordering women around and making them do kinky things.
“Show me your pussy, L. Let me see it going in and out. Match my strokes.”
Cameron formed a sphincter with his pale white fingers, and he gritted his teeth as he directed his tool through his tight grip. He labored through the initial entry, but subsequent strokes were smooth. The semen from his previous climax made the journey feel like velvet.
Lauren shifted her tablet and mimicked the movement of the cyber junkie. The Icicle #18
was a new toy, and Lauren found the smooth blue bumps on the shaft stimulating. She pushed the head of the dildo in and pulled the round floral end out. Her hand shook from ecstasy as she repeated the pattern more than twenty times easily. The curve of the dildo caused the head of the toy to torment her g-spot during every down stroke.
“Mmm, may I cum?”
“Absolutely not. Lauren, you’ve been bad, and you’ve got a rebellious tongue. No, you may not cum right now. In fact, take it out!”
“Oh no, please.”
“L, remove it. Right now.”
“Really? But I’m almost there,” Lauren whined as she and drove the glass in and out with a fury. She was on the verge of a massive eruption, and she didn’t give a shit about his instructions at this point.
Cameron knew she was too far-gone. The dildo was a blur. When she pulled the toy out, he could look right down into her pussy. He watched her ‘O’ cavern clench, beg, and grasp for the glass filling. He followed her lead and matched her strokes. He stroked faster and faster until he felt the rumbling of a mammoth climax.
“Please, may I now?” Lauren pleaded as she watched his creamy load propel toward the camera.
“Yes, cum for me Lauren.”
Lauren bucked and screamed, “Oh my god, I’m coming!”
The sound of heaving breaths and soft moans lasted for a good two minutes while Cameron and Lauren gained their composure. Cameron stood and his cum stained pants dropped down around his ankles. He kept baby wipes in the bottom left hand drawer of his desk. He grabbed a few and began cleaning off his night’s work.
It was a relaxing moment until Lauren opened her mouth.
“Natalie seems to have concern that you are having some issues... erectile dysfunction. Why have you stopped fucking Natalie? Do you now realize that you don’t love her? Hell, you don’t even like her, for that matter,” Lauren bitched-mouthed her way through her laundry list of facts and questions.
Cameron rolled his eyes at the camera.
“Hey, I’ve got to run,” and the cyber junkie attempted to end the Skype
“Don’t hang up now, Cameron. I’d like to know the answers to those questions,” Natalie shouted.
“I’m interested in those answers too,” echoed a voice from someone standing behind Natalie.
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with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.
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