Imprinting

Last night was a perfect example. They had been on their respective computers for hours chatting back and forth, anticipating their first meeting, when suddenly she told him to imagine laying his head in her lap and to just relax. He had lain there, naked in the dark, his eyes half closed, breathing the deep breaths she asked for, thinking of her holding him and stroking his hair as he slowly unwound from a tough week.

“Think of my warm breath on your skin,” she typed, “and my hair trailing across your chest. Massage your neck like I would.”

He sighed and began rubbing his neck.

“Now, slowly bring your hands down and touch the soft skin on your shoulders,” she seemed to whisper. “Enjoy the feel of your skin just like I do. Stroke your pecs, feeling the muscle ridges.”

Then she got bolder. “You should be close to your nipples now. Lick your fingers and tweak them for me.”

He reached up, put his fingers in his mouth, wet them and swirled them around his nipples, giving them small squeezes, feeling them stiffen at her touch.

Her words were intoxicating. “Place your hands at the bottom of your rib cage; take a deep breath in and feel the muscles tighten across your chest and belly.”

A few moments later: “Stroke your hands across your belly, lightly drawing circles around and around. Now move the circles slowly lower.”

“Trail your fingers down the creases of your groin,” she typed. “Now farther down along the inside of your thighs.”

He did so, squirming at the result, and noticed his breathing becoming erratic.

Her sentences became more erotic. “Spread your legs apart, and with both hands, reach down and lift your sac.” He did so and moaned, but she continued, “Gently shift the weight back and forth between your hands……first one, then the other.”

He complied and felt the heaviness of his scrotum as his balls shifted from palm to palm.

“Place your pinkies behind the sac,” he saw her write, “and press them against the flesh there. Do this as you gently manipulate your sac.”

His cock hardened at his touch with the image of her hands tugging at his testes.

“Now,” she typed, “move your hands up to your cock. Imagine me breathing up and down it, licking it.” He did so and found it thick and hard in his palms. “Touch yourself lightly, trailing your fingers up and down.”

He felt the hard shaft, the bulging veins, and the thick protruding head.

Suddenly she shifted directions. “Get some lubrication and put it on your hands. Rub them together so the liquid will be warm against you, like my mouth.”

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