He asked, very bluntly over a message, if I would wip him into submission.
I responded only if he was lucky.
He said he was only joking.
I said, so was I.
Then he said, well sorta. I said ditto.
We were both out of the closet.
How did this happen? My nick.
Nicks and other naming
The world today is one of nicks. Once upon a time I used to use very different ones for my different cyber lives. Then I didn't. I was done with remembering what my Twitter, or Tumblr, etc. were. Once upon a time someone discovered the same nick in two very different pages...
anyhow. My nick nowadays is the amalgamation of two novels with a very distinct female character. One of them is just called O. The other one is called Venus.
You can unravel the rest.
My nick has oftentimes opened up the gate for very interesting communication. Men wanting me to partake in threesomes, polyamory, foursomes, orgies, or, as this was the case, they wanted me to show them what it was they needed to learn.
Back to the story...
He continued to communicate with me. He really wanted to meet. I told him patience was a virtue.
One Thursday I e-mailed him: today. He was eager and ready. At noon I asked what he was doing at that moment. He took forty minutes to reply, too long for my patience, I was already at a movie.
Afterwards I told him it was not convenient nor allowed to take so long to reply. I had chosen that day to allow him to massage my feet. He addressed me as 'Ma'am', which I, playing along, appreciated.
He said massaging feet was not what he had in mind. I asked him for his cellphone and told him he needed to be at my beck and call whenever I wanted. He agreed. Then he said he wasn't looking to be allowed to touch my feet. He wanted to be my 'boy', he wanted a mommy figure or someone to fuck the shit out of him with a strap-on.
I smiled and put his number away, to be used on a day when I had nothing better to do.
No comments:
Post a Comment