Introduction

Love and affection come in many forms.  I’ve experienced them all, from the playful love through new experiences; the unwavering selfless love of a years-long friendship; and the deep, maturing love of a committed romance.

Throughout all these experiences has existed the delicious fire of eroticism.  The burning passion of two ships passing in the night, aware of each other for only the briefest of encounters.  An understanding gentleness, touched by the sweetness of childhood daisy-chains and shy first kisses.  The mellow passion of a loving partner together enamoured through a life shared.

I have stories enough to fill a library, dear reader, a bittersweet mix of the traumatic and ecstatic, and I hope to regale you of them all in time. 

For now, though – a story of blossoming attraction and of newfound sensuality despite the distance.

Ch.01

I suppose we found each other, really.  Shy and inexperienced didn’t really explain just how nervous we were together. I was 18 and Nathan 20 years old, and neither of us had experienced much positive attention from our respective people-of-interest.

Our first conversations centred around shallow eroticism – exchanging pictures, kinks, fantasies.  I was attracted to his intelligence, his passion for literature and his imagination.  All were spectacular to behold.  He aroused me with the pictures he painted in my mind.  I found myself shivering in ecstasy during many of our late-night conversations, fingers slipping silently beneath the blanket to tease my swollen centre.

After several weeks – or maybe months – of this delicious affair, we made the leap to video calls.  I was surprised and just how attracted I was to him.  Piercing blue eyes, a shock of black hair and the most adorable accent I’d ever heard.  Nathan had managed to capture my imagination thoroughly.  We talked and got to know each other properly – discussing books, politics, science and art.  We found ourselves continually aroused, flirting and teasing with tell-tale inexperience.

Our sessions of self-pleasure were an open secret, something we pretended to ignore out of misbegotten shyness – until the time came when Nathan asked if he could watch me.  My heart leapt into my chest with a potent mix of anxiety and arousal. I enthusiastically consented, and I could immediately see him shift slightly to adjust the hardness beginning to tent his shorts. My one condition was that that I could see him. 

The little red dot on my laptop showed my camera was on; I knew he was watching me, drinking in my form and hungrily waiting for my next movement.  I switched off the harsh main light and instead flooded the room with warm yellow from the desk light, reminiscent of sodium bulbs. The laptop sat on the bed and I angled it as best I could, desperate for his approval. 

Swaying slowly to the internal beat of my favourite song, I slowly pulled my shirt above my head, revealing first the pale skin of my stomach, then the lace of my bra.  I heard a gasp and the camera panned down to reveal the soft rasp of shorts sliding over his hardness.  It certainly wasn’t small, and as his hands stroked over it, I felt my skin tingle with excitement.  I wished, not for the first time, to touch the soft skin, feel it twitch in my hand, hear the gasps and groans of pleasure so close to my ear. 

Distracted from my internal fantasy, my shirt was discarded carelessly on the floor with the swell of my breasts clearly visible.  I caressed myself, slipping my hands over the lace, before turning to face away. 

I could hear his breathing, and Nathan stroking himself. My nipples hardened, pressing against the lace – aching to be touched. I released the clasp on my bra and let it fall.  All he could see was my bare back, my dark hair reaching my waist, and my skirt clouding his view of everything beyond my hips.

“Fuck.  You’re a tease.”

“Ask me nicely, then,” I whispered, my confidence growing with every one of Nathan’s pleasured breaths.

“Please, show me.  I want to see you.  Please.”

I couldn’t deny him.  I slid my skirt over my hips until it dropped to the floor.  Lace covered my backside until it joined my skirt.  I turned, slowly; the anxiety had returned.  I had – have – a rounded tummy, wide hips and a thick waist.  What would he think? Honestly?  I at least partially expected a swift ending to our affair once he saw what I looked like – pictures can be posed to the most flattering angle, whereas a video reveals every bump and awkward curve imaginable. 

Instead of my imagined scenario, all that crackled across the miles was complete and utter silence.

“N… Nathan?”

“Jesus fuck, Evy. Fuck.  I want you so much.”

I giggled nervously, hiding my smile behind my hair.  “Really?”

“Yep.  I want my mouth on your nipples and my hands between your legs. See how hard you’ve made me.”

I’d been so distracted by my own anxiety I hadn’t noticed how thick his cock, filling my screen, had become.  It looked so heavy, weighty with arousal and I ached to tease it with my tongue. Absentmindedly one of my hands drifted to pinch one of my nipples, groping my breast; the other slid between my legs to tease my folds. I dripped onto my fingers, wetness coating my thighs. My tongue poked out between my lips, enjoying the fantasy of being on my knees and taking his thickness deep in my throat.

Nathan stroked himself, teasing the thick length; his moans became deeper, more like growls, as he watched me touch myself – until he stopped suddenly.

“I want to see you cum.”

“I, um, I need to lie down for that!”

“Go on then.”

I lay back and spread my legs with the laptop between them.  He could see my thighs, wet with arousal; my pussy spread, almost obscenely, for him; my tummy, rounded above my mound; and my pink-tipped breasts with hardened nipples.  I was completely exposed, vulnerable.  And yet… completely comfortable.

“Good girl.  Touch yourself for me?” I heard the smile behind his words, eviscerating my shyness and leaving only sweet, desperate heat.  The sound of demand was belayed by the questioning tone, asking for my submission and consent.  And Goddess, did I submit.  My eyes fluttered closed as cool fingers stole gentle caresses from my thighs to my breasts.  I stroked, pinched, toyed with the sensitive flesh.  I moaned, quietly; knowing he could hear every pleasured gasp.  Nathan whispered words of encouragement to me, easing me into that submission, teaching me to enjoy my body the way he was enjoying me.  I was a good girl.  He was sir. 

When he’d had enough of teasing me, he asked me to show him what I enjoyed; what made me feel good at night when no one else could see.  Not a show for him; he wanted to see my unadulterated pleasure.

My fingers dipped between my legs to gently tease my folds, agonisingly slowly.  I swept my fingers towards my entrance, slick with wetness, before teasing my aching clit.  I shook slightly – our teasing has made me so, so close.  I know I didn’t have to, but I wanted to tease him a little; I brought my finger to my mouth and licked; the salty-sweet taste of something so completely myself, brought a wave of shuddering ecstasy unlike anything I’d previously felt.  I heard a low groan and the sounds of stroking increase their pace.

“Fuck. I love watching you, Evy.  I want to taste you.”

Hearing his pleasure, I couldn’t stop myself; my fingers found their way back to my centre and desperately rubbed my clit.  “I want that so much.”

For a minute there was only the sounds of my stroking, our mutually unintelligible moans; we both concentrated on our own pleasure, watching the other touch themselves and wishing we were touching each other.

“I – I can’t last a lot longer.”  I felt my body tense rhythmically, approaching that pleasurable height.  I wanted to be there now and to never get there.  I wanted us to watch and be watched all night.

“I want to see you cum.  Think you can do that for me?”

“Fuck!” I let loose that one guttural expletive before collapsing into a shuddering mass of limbs and pleasure.  I floated on clouds and was torn a hundred different ways through waves and waves of bliss.  My nipples ached and I felt the rush of blood in my ears.  La petite mort.

When it had subsided, I lazily looked at my screen feeling like a kitten who had just woken from a nap.  He was harder than I’d ever seen; thick, almost angrily red, still stroking, obviously holding himself back.

“Can… can I watch you, now?  Please?”

“Fuck, yes you can.  I want your mouth on me.  I want to explode inside you.  Evy, it’s coming, I’m-!”

Rope after rope of thick cum burst unrelentingly from the tip, covering his tummy, each one accompanied by a low moan and hips jerking with each spurt. I gasped at the quantity, the thickness, and my mouth watered at the thought of sucking it deep into my throat.

A few seconds passed for us both to catch our breath.  Almost simultaneously, we grabbed at towels to clean ourselves of our respective fluids to some slightly awkward laughter and desperate reassurances.

“Did you like that?” I asked, hoping I’d pleased him.

“I haven’t cum that hard in a long time.  So yes, I liked it. You looked so good. And I think you liked it too?”

I blushed and hid my face under my blanket.  “Maybe, definitely,” my response was muffled.  I heard him chuckle.  We lay there, completely naked to each other, resuming conversations from earlier in the evening with ease. 

An intensely comfortable silence fell like mist over the sea.  Both of us had burrowed ourselves into our blankets and pillows, revelling in the afterglow of wanting and being wanted. My eyes had closed, daydreaming of being held, kissed, touched, while languor washed over us both.

Nathan interrupted my reverie in a halting voice - “Would you, um, like to do that again, err, soon-ish, maybe?”

One eye opened to reveal a man still growing into himself, shy and uncertain, trying his best to be suave.  There was something so endearingly sexy about it.  I caught myself, unbidden, feeling the desperate need to sit in his lap and touch every part of his body.  I felt my face flush cerise.  I wanted to feel his touch burn into my skin, my lips caressing his shoulders, chest-

“Evy?”

“I- I would really like that.  If you’d want to?”

With the softest of smiles and a gentle blush, he reassured me, “yes, I definitely want to.”

We fell back into that comfortable silence, each occasionally catching the other staring at the other, and blushing, and pretending that we hadn’t.  A mutual secret, to prevent any words that might intimate at more than either of us were ready to articulate just yet.  Far too late for reasonable slumber, we realised the time; exchanging various affections and goodnight’s, we slept with the delicious promise of further episodes as soon as could be managed.