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Writer's pictureJaimee Bell

What We Did Way Back When...

It started with “hello” and now I’m standing in the middle of my dorm room with nothing left on but a thin black thong, staring at a screen and waiting for orders from you.


I feel the goosebumps ripple along my chest as my fingers draw little circles around my nipples and fall down by my waist.


My mind flashes back to the day we met. The night air nipped at my legs through my thin skirt as I fumbled around in my purse for the keys. How I managed to get back to my townhouse in one piece I will never know - that whole night is a blur. I know there was tequila. I remember bringing home a feather boa wrapped around my neck from some girl at the bar who said I was “too pretty not to have a boa”. The taste of regret from a drunken makeout session, with a guy whose name I still can’t recall, was fresh on my lips as I pushed myself through the front door. It was a hazy, messy, lime-and-salt flavored blur of a night. Well, except for you.


Up in my room, I struggled to get my boots off and ended up laying on the floor, letting the room swirl as my heart pounded in my chest. My mouth was sandpaper dry but the thought of going back down to the kitchen for a glass of water felt like an impossible feat, so I just laid there. I don’t know how long I laid there for, counting the ceiling tiles.


Eventually, I managed to find my way to my desk. Waiting for me, was a bottle of water from my roommate with a note: “you’re welcome.” I vowed to treat her to the best takeout dinner a college girl could afford the next day, as I unscrewed the cap and took a big gulp of the water. Next, I powered on my laptop. I don’t know why I logged onto the chatroom that night. The idea of drunkenly connecting with a stranger somewhere else in the world seemed an extremely romantic and incredibly stupid thing to do - and I was in both of those moods.


When I connected with you, I could tell you were different. There was no immediate sexual innuendo and no rude comment to mark the beginning of our conversation, as with most of the other conversations I’d had there that night. The first thing I noticed was your smile. That curved grin as you said hello, letting a puff of cigarette smoke fill your dimly lit bedroom. Your chest was next, I could picture how chiseled you looked underneath the tight shirt you were wearing. I immediately imagined running my hands across your body, feeling your broad shoulders under my fingertips, trailing them down and exploring your body in every way I could. You made me hot, in every sense of the word - that night and now. Your voice sold me, though. It’s the reason we’re still playing our little game all these months later. The first time you said my name with your strong, thick accent, it instantly made me wet.


“Hello, you,” your voice snaps me back to the present.


“Hi,” I reply.


I can’t help but let out a giggle, wondering if you can tell where my mind has been. You drive me crazy, and I love our fun little games. For months now, it’s been the same - you instruct, I listen. I strip for you and fuck myself for you. You watch me jump through hoops for you and only when you decide it’s time, can we really start to have fun.


You take a long drag from your cigarette, the exhaled smoke swirling around your dimly lit bedroom, just like the first night, and all the others up until now.


“Take your panties off, too.”

Your orders don’t sound like orders. Your voice is sweet like honey and you have such a calm and gentle energy, but I’m somehow compelled to obey you. I slide my fingers between my warm skin and the soft fabric of my thong. I toy with the idea of lowering my panties for you, taking my time as you take another drag from your smoke. I shoot a glance at the webcam before letting my panties fall to the ground.


“On the bed,” you demand.


Without much thought, I feel myself moving across the room towards my bed. I sit on the edge, awaiting further instruction.

“Your glasses. You know how I like them.”


A smile paints my face. I love how you like my glasses. I regretted buying them the instant I left the store, but you’ve loved them from the first time you saw them. I reach over to the night-stand, clutching my glasses in my hands. I pause for a moment and make sure my ass perks up towards the camera as I slide the glasses on and resume my position back on the bed’s edge.


“Fuck,” you whisper.


I stifle a giggle and manage to maintain my composure, my now-racing heart pounding in my ears. I know you want me. Maybe close to as much as I want you.


“Spread your legs.”


You’re so direct, but there’s a sensitivity beyond your hardened façade.


I don’t love you, nor you me, but there’s something about this connection we have. It feels almost surreal. I haven’t touched your skin or felt the tingle of your lips on mine, but when I focus on you, you’re the only thing that feels real. I hang onto your every word and you love it. I lay back, propped up against a pillow so I can watch you watching me. Placing my hands on my knees, I slowly let my legs shift open and the cool air sends shivers up my thighs. I’m on full display for you. You pause a moment to take in the sight, letting out another puff of cigarette smoke.


“Start slow.”


My cheeks flush with excitement and I feel my fingers running through my hair, down my neck, and towards my chest. No matter how many times we do this, it still makes me nervous to perform for you. I bite my lip and start playing with my tits, taking my nipples between my fingers and squeezing hard, arching my back as naughty thoughts fill my mind - thoughts of you.


Goosebumps spread throughout my body and I let out a content sound, somewhere between a moan and a sigh, as my hands travel down my ribcage, trace my belly button, flow back up to my tits and give them another rough squeeze. I love touching myself for you and this is just the beginning. I let my fingers trail further down my body, staring directly into the camera. I rub the outer lips of my pussy and feel a shiver shoot through me.


You told me to go slow but all I want to do is fuck myself for you.

Fighting every instinct I have, I move my fingers nice and slow, giving you a bit of a show before letting them settle on the right spot. They move swiftly up and down on my clit as my body tenses and then relaxes into the pleasure.


I watch your eyes scan me as you stroke your cock just out of view. How I long to see your thick cock in your tight briefs. I know you were ready and waiting for me before I even logged on. I wonder how long you were teasing yourself at the thought of me.


My fingers continue to massage my clit as my other hand cups my breast, squeezing tightly. A longer, stronger moan leaves me and I let your name escape my lips. Soon, I’ve found a good rhythm - my fingers moving faster, circling, rubbing, tapping my clit as the tension within me builds. My thoughts are of you. I picture you teasing me right here in this bedroom. You’re standing above me while I pleasure myself, your throbbing dick in hand, asking how badly I want you inside me. You’re making me wait. You’re making me earn it. But this little game is just as much of a tease for you, as it is for me. I wonder who will break first. I feel my fingers moving faster and faster, the sweet tension building with every stroke.


“I want you so fucking bad,” I let slip.


Your chuckle breaks the air, “Then what are you waiting for?”


With permission granted, my fingers move faster and more aggressively on my clit, moaning your name so you know this is all for you. My heart races and I long for your touch. It’s time for the show to begin. I slide two fingers deep into myself, letting out a little gasp as they penetrate me. I fuck myself for you, with two fingers and then three, letting the tension build only to back off right before I burst.


Again and again, I let myself come within a breath of ecstasy before backing off again. Each time I get closer to the edge, your presence, your touch, your cock inside me feels more real. I can feel your hands running through my hair, giving a slight tug. My neck is exposed. You bite me, hard. Your hands clasp around my neck, your grip tightens around my throat. I slow the pace, letting my fingers slide slowly in and out of my dripping wet pussy, imagining the weight of your muscular body on top of mine as you choke and release me, over and over. Your lips across my skin feel warm and soft. I long for them to explore every inch of my body as I fuck myself for you.


I hear you moan, not just in my head, but in the room, and I can tell you’ve joined me now. The thought of you wanting me, pleasuring yourself for me, sends a shot of adrenaline through me and I feel my fingers pick up speed again. Faster and harder, I focus all my energy onto my clit. I slip another finger deep inside my pussy. My moans fill the room as my fingers collect more of my wetness with each passing movement. I’m getting close, and you can tell.


“Not yet, baby. I want to cum with you.”


I hear your voice cut through the room and my fingers slow once again. I try to take deep breaths and let the would-be-orgasm fade. It hurts how much I want you, but the wait is well worth it for us to experience this together. You moan louder now and I pause for a moment, spreading my lips open to give you a good look. I try to maintain my composure, but it only adds to the fire burning deep inside me, when I look to the screen and see your thick, hard cock in full view, your cigarette still burning on the ash-tray next to you. Your chiseled, naked body is barely visible in the dim light of your computer screen but I can see you there, hard as a rock, stroking yourself as you watch me. This sends me to the place I’ve been waiting for. You’re here.


“More, baby. Come on, cum with me.”


There is something about your voice that sends chills through me every single time you speak. I let my fingers pick up speed again, fucking myself three and then four fingers deep, harder and faster as I moan your name. The connection between us becomes this piercing, pulsing energy that I can feel in every fiber of my being. I feel your warm breath on my skin, your dick moving violently in and out of me, going deeper each time you enter. Over and over again you fuck me, your hands grabbing at my chest, my neck, my hair, you’re everywhere.


With every second, I get closer. I look directly at you through the screen, our eyes lock and I’m fixed on you. With a few final movements, I feel a surge of euphoria take over that leaves me in the dark for mere seconds before I come to the light again. I feel the wetness seeping out of me, soaking the bed beneath me. A final moan escapes my lips at the precise moment I see thick, creamy cum forming on the tip of your cock.


Do you like this story? It's from my 4.5 rated erotica collection, All the Dirty Little Things.

You can find it here on Amazon!!




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