Past Present by Secret Narrative

not always precise. Occasionally, I lead him on. Let him take me where he wants to go, allow him to believe that I have had a brace of orgasms. It is the only time I have absolute control over my sensual self, my sexual self, my wanton self, with Matthew. I enjoy seeing how long it takes until he is overcome with the need to ejaculate. When we’re together he lasts for ages. Cybersex is always a quick fix before he goes off to his meetings or whatever else he has planned.
    “I bind you.”
    My heart flip-flops as I write my reply.
    “I want you to beat me. Give me a little death. Tie me tight. Oh, so tight.”
    Another long pause. I know that his cock is already hard.
    “You can’t escape.”
    I smile and reply. “I want no escape.”
    “Your wrists are tied together.”
    “Yes, oh, yes, yes.”
    “You’re on your knees.”
    “I’m on my knees. Worshipping your hard cock.”
    I reposition the laptop and get to my knees. His words are waiting when I check the screen.
    “I slip my cock into your mouth, into your hot, velvet throat.”
    “I lick and suck you.” I type quickly, my melting self needs release. “I drink you deep. I am achingly wet.”
    “I fuck your mouth and open your dress.”
    I get a vibe to insert. “I have a vibe, Matty, for while we talk.”
    “Good girl. Now do as I say. Bend over, insert the vibe.”
    “Very well, Matty. It’s the bunny, it’s rotating.”
    The screen stays blank, and so I keep writing.
    “I’m crouching over the vibe, hands free for typing. I have the clit stimulation switched on. I don’t have to touch at all.”
    “The ears of the bunny are...on...my clit...”
    “Lovely, Puss, keep talking. I’m masturbating.”
    “The rest, all of it, is rotating inside.”
    “As big as my cock?”
    “Not as big as your cock.” We both know I’m lying, but it doesn’t matter.
    “I’m so wet…”
    There’s no comeback for a long moment, but I feel him. I pulse, the vibe continues to whir. I wait for his message.
    “Is the vibe still working?”
    “Yes. I may have to stop it in a moment. It’s powerful. I prefer your cock. I am aching for you, my love.”
    “I want my cock to fill you. I’m aching for you too, darling Puss.”
    “Fill every orifice with your pulsing skin. Your hard, hard glorious cock. How I love your cock. Your hard, pulsing cock.”
    “Make me come, Puss.”
    I remove the vibe and concentrate on his pleasure, typing fast, urgently, without pause, a long stream of messages… “I lick a long, long stroke from the base of your hard, erect, oozing cock...Stroke it my darling. I’m like a little bird in the nest. My mouth is open for you, for your seed, to feed me, fill me, fill my mouth, spill into me.”
    “God it’s hard.” His words are slow to appear.
    “Hard. Hard. Oozing. Hard. Dripping for me.” I supply fodder. “I taste you, your glorious, manly, hard, hot taste.”
    “I’m coming, my sweet Puss. My cum is all over my chest. I wish it was truly gushing into your mouth, instead of spraying me. A droplet on one nipple makes me want you to lick me clean.”
    “I’m craving for you.” I write, swallowing it down in our minds, so attuned.
    “How utterly lovely you are, Puss. That was wonderful. I loved you coming, me coming. You know I love you, Puss.”
    “I know, Matty and I love you too, darling.”
    “I was so excited.”
    “Me too.”
    I smile. I can feel you smile.
    “I shall anticipate seeing you soon, darling Puss.”
    “Meow.”
    I log off, fetch something to eat and turn to the parchment pouch containing his latest task. It’s resting on my dressing table, where I am reflected in a troika of images. Memories of an earlier envelope containing a message with tickets to Venice swim into view as I break the familiar scarlet seal.

Wraparound Silk
    The task is far more of a challenge than the last, tenseand mulling over his instructionsI glance out of the windows. The day is gloomy, but a chink of brightness