I sit here, on my side of the screen, imagining what you do on your side of the screen. I mention real life often but treat you like a fantasy. You are real, and we discuss any number of things, not always sexual. I do react to your words, my body reacts to your words. Therefore, there is a factor of reality in every chat. 

Do you imagine what I am doing? Do you see me playing with my hair? Do you imagine me naked when I tell you I am still in bed? In your mind, are you watching my fingers caress my breasts, circling my nipples, pinching them, pulling them, and rolling them between my fingers?  

I try not to imagine you in your car or your office or work lavatory hand down your pants. I prefer to imagine you at home, music or television on in the background, reading our words. I imagine our heads taking us to the places our typed words suggest or describe. 

Your virtual fingers drag along my skin, sending shivers up my spine.  I close my eyes and can feel a finger or two gliding up the inside of my leg, pausing at my knee.  Leaving me to anticipate what direction you will take next. Will it continue up the inside of my thigh, or will you circle my kneecap as your breath caresses my ear?  

I imagine my hand gliding up your arm, across your shoulder, giving a gentle squeeze and then tracing your scapula before caressing lower and lower. My hand flattens on your lower back as I reach the top of your cheeks. Dare I stroke across one or both? Such a cute bum, I cannot resist giving each cheek separate attention. My fingers barely reaching your crack, stopping just shy of the bottom as I squeeze your cheek in my palm and then I move to the other giving equal attention. Will my doing so make you squirm in your seat? 

I watch your words as they appear and they make me warm. My hand wanders as I read, tracing where you direct. My nipple hardens as two fingers circle them. One finger moving across the now pointy tip. Goosebumps form on my white skin as you trace the dark circle. Round and round, that single finger strays across every few revolutions.  

The image in my head of your eyes locked on mine as we explore each other’s minds.  You take me places I had not imagined before. I trace down your chest, around your nipples and down to your belly. Circling your navel, I lick my lips in anticipation of kissing you. Lower my finger traces, a drop of pre-cum lands on the back of my hand. I smile as I bring my hand to my lips, my tongue licking across the back of my hand. I start again, tracing rather quickly down your arm, my eyes still locked on yours as I savor the flavor from the back of my hand.  Are you getting hard now? 

Lower I reach this time palm up, slowly moving down until I feel the crinkles of the skin wrapped around your two orbs. Holding them in my hand, I gently squeeze as I rub them round and round, my thumb against the base of your shaft. 

As I read your words, my hand drags along my arm, tracing my clavicle as you tell me what you are doing in your mind. My fingers trace down between my breasts, do we go left or right? I wait for your words to tell me. Being a southpaw, you start on my right side. My index finger traces around and around slowly moving inward, my thumb accidentally brushes the tip of my nipple. A shiver quakes up my spine, and I feel the spasm in my lower abdomen that moves down to my clit. 

As my mind tells me how your touch will feel, my fingers mimic your words. I have goosebumps, more from the thought of your touch than the cool air in my room. 

My nipple grows harder and I find it getting more difficult to type my side of this chat. You tell me your philosophy has always been “ladies first” which I find quite charming, yet I feel selfish in not being able to type fast enough as my mind and my body are being distracted by your words.  

I tell you how I will hold your cock at its base with my index finger and thumb. I wrap around and tighten my grip as my other three fingers caress your balls. My hand moves up your shaft. Slowly my fingers each wrap around, loosening my grip as I move up. The tip of your head hides beneath your foreskin. I wonder if your hand now has a grip and if you are typing one-handed, as I am. 
My index finger now circles the dark center, it is hardening at the thought of your touch. Slowly the circle getting smaller until it is right at the, now hard, pointy tip. Following your instructions, my thumb meets my index finger and with the point right between them, I give a pinch. Another spasm moves through my body, ending at my pelvis. I can feel a twinge in my clit and moisture forming at my opening. 

We have been chatting now for half an hour. Each of us is waiting on the other side of the screen, for the words to appear. Some would say a video chat would be hotter, but for me, to have you in my head, leading my body to certain conclusions, is far hotter than anything visual at this moment. 

My fingers are now at the end of your long shaft. My index finger crosses over the tip, it is quite wet now. I gently pull your foreskin back revealing your head whose tip is now glistening. Pulling your foreskin down, even more, I start to stroke you. Ever so slowly, up and down, I change the firmness of my grip. Are you now stroking with me? 

A few circles and pinches of my left breast and nipple and I feel your fingers glide along my abdomen. Moving lower, your finger takes a dip in my navel. I imagine the look in your eyes as you reach the top of my slit.  I see a twinkle as a single finger glides ever so slightly down, farther and farther, pausing as if you will push between my lips.  You do not and I fight hard not to let my fingers spread them apart. 

Up and down, fast and slow, tight and loose I describe how I will stroke you.  I need to kiss you now; I need to feel your lips on mine, your tongue asking permission to enter. Sitting here, my laptop propped on my knees. I imagine it is you, as we sit facing each other. My legs over your legs, my feet rest at your hips. Your legs under my legs and your feet against my hips, we do not look at each other’s bodies, just into each other’s eyes. Are you imagining something similar? 

A finger drags along my inner thigh, up over my mound and down the other thigh. Now two fingers drag back up, stopping at the top of my mound. They slowly trace down each side. Do you imagine the moisture emerging? Up and down, you trace, I wish you would push between, but I will wait until instructed. 

I imagine you are quite hard, my hand still pumping up and down, pausing now and then to spread the pre-cum to keep your head glistening. I can see it out of the corner of my eye, glistening with droplets like a flower after a rain.  My head tells me I need both hands, one to stroke you and one to caress your balls. Are you enjoying this as much as I am? 

Your words tell me one hand is squeezing and pinching my breast while the other is slowly pushing deeper between my lips. You would now feel the moisture as I do. On an upstroke, you spread my lips; the coolness of the air is a little shock to my clit. It feels a lot like an ice cube has passed across and it feels wonderful.  My body tightens as another, stronger spasm moves through me. I describe to you how my lips tense as it does, and my clit feels like it is swollen.  My laptop shifts as my legs shake a bit. Was this your intention? 

It is now getting very hard to type with one hand and to keep from stroking my clit as my body desires. I wait to see what you will do next. I tell you how my mouth would love to take hold of you, but as we agreed earlier, this chat is just about how we would please the other with just our words and hands. Something we can both imagine the other doing to us, describe in a chat, and since neither of us is flexible enough, oral is off the table. 

As I touch, you tell me how your fingers spread between my lips as you slide past my clit, they come back together as you slide down, pausing to gather moisture then moving back up again, teasing that you will touch my clit.  I can feel it starting to throb in anticipation of your touch.  

Back down again and a pause, then out of the blue, you push into me. I let out a moan, deeper and deeper you push. My back arches that spasm is building again. My abdomen tightens and like a bolt of lightning it shoots south to my clit and I feel a gush of moisture flood me. My fingers are soaked as you push deep. You curl them in me and your thumb finally slides across my clit.  You rub around and around then across, applying pressure and with each stroke across, you press harder into me. Did you ever imagine your words could have this effect on me? 

My grip on your cock tightens, stroking and slightly twisting with each stoke. Tell me how you like it, fast and hard, slow and steady, or a mixture of both? Oh goodness, you like that, as I switch up the speed and grip. My other hand cups your balls squeezing them in time with my strokes.  Tell me, will you cum from my words? 

In my mind’s eye, I picture you stroking yet they are my hands. I feel my hands touching me but my head tells me they are your hands. Your words tell me that your fingers are soaked, that you will pull them out and bring them to your lips. I taste what you desire, are you tasting what I desire as well? I imagine our lips meeting as our hands move back down each other’s bodies.  Tasting me on your lips right now would push me to the edge.  

My hand grips you tight, moving up and down. The edge of my finger and thumb feel the drips, how I wish I could lick them in real life. If only you were here, I am not sure if the longing to feel your touch is heightening the arousal. Having never met or seen you leaves so much for my mind to fill in.  Are your fingers long and slender, short and thick? Is your cock long, short, thin, fat? It does not matter to me in real life and right now, you are everything in my mind. 

What? That made no sense. Can you explain your last post? Oh goodness, your one-handed typing is getting illegible.  
My fingers slide between my lips, parting as they pass my clit. My fingers doing as instructed, down and in deep, curling again, stroking in and out searching for my G-spot. I am so wet now, there surely is a wet spot starting to form on the sheet. I drag my fingers up, across my clit, lubing it so my thumb will glide effortlessly. 

My friend, I will not be able to type much longer, I nearly dropped the laptop. I will have to clean the edge of the keyboard where I caught it with wet fingers.  

I stroke you hard and fast. I can feel your balls start to tighten. Will you cum with me? I imagine how hard you will become just before I feel that familiar pulse starting to build. I squeeze you a little tighter; my stroke is long and slow now, trying to milk an orgasm from you.  

My fingers are deep within me, my thumb circling and stroking my clit. Here it comes again, that spasm that builds in my lower abdomen.  My stomach tightens, my back arches, my pussy tightens, I begin to moan, my clit hardens and then that shock of electricity shoots down. Exiting through my pussy, a gush of moisture with each spasm is making the wet spot larger.  

Over in an instant yet feels like an eternity. I catch my breath; still throbbing I try to type. Mission accomplished I hope you did and it was as good for you my friend. I will take that undecipherable bunch of letters to indicate that it was.  

Oh, if only to be on the same side of this screen with you!