The word “sexting” already has a negative stigma to it with politicians stepping down from their positions and others seeing it as the modern form of cybering. Sure it seems juvenile and dated and even lame to some.
What you are missing is the magic behind such an act. You have to get beyond the fact that looking at porn is not cheating and sexting with someone is not having an affair. Let me be the first to say that not everyone is cut out for the act of sexting but if you are, there are rewarding benefits.
Open your mind.
He and I have been going back and forth for a few weeks now. It started out deviant as it always does. In full detail he is describing to me what he does with his girlfriend. My mind is envisioning the filthy acts that he does with her. It’s a porn flick running in my mind. I am getting aroused at the stories he tells me. I react and respond back. It’s all done in silence with phones beeping and fingers racing over the screen. Yet the pictures being painted in my mind are detailed, vivid and colorful.
I find myself wet when my phone beeps. I know it’s him. What new filth does he have for me this morning? My eyes are groggy but I see a series of texts from him:
Text: Had the most amazing sex last night. Nothing particularly novel, it was just very intense and very long.
Text: We started by cuddling and talking. Then we fucked. Nice and pretty. I came deep inside her.
Text: Then I went down on her.
I stopped there for a moment. It is an act that I love. A man, who has just fucked me, came and then goes down on me. His filth makes me let out little gasps.
Text: Gradually working my fingers into her, until I was fucking her with four, to the base of my thumb.
I groan. I know what is going to happen next and it’s something I dream about: he’s going to fist her.
Text: I was hard again, so I shifted so that I could slip my cock into her ass. I love that feeling.
I very much love that feeling as well and I am wet in bed reading each message.
Text: I started fucking her ass while I fucked her cunt with my finger.
Text: “More” she said.
Text: I tucked in my thumb and forced my hand into her. “Oh yes,” she moans.
I am aching now. My thighs are clenched tight. My ass is pushing into the bed. My hand is nearing my cunt.
Text: For a while I fucked her with my hand and cock. She gushed at one point. The squelchy noises were amazing.
Text: Her juices ran out of her and onto her ass and my cock, keeping that slick and squelchy as well.
My fingers are pushing to find my wet hardened clit. My eyes are dreamy and this feels like a wanted memory. I want him to do those exact things to me.
Text: In the end I was moving my hand completely in and out of her cunt while my cock pounded her ass.
Text: She came with a scream and I emptied myself into the depths of her ass.
I am rubbing myself to an orgasm reading the words on my phone screen envisioning those acts being done to me.
I sent him a text after I made it into the office that read: I’m still haunted by the sex you had last night. Made me so aroused.
This is what I have been waking up to every morning for about two weeks now. Stories of sexual acts that have happened and will happen, with her and with me. Our union as many that I have had was unexpected but fate-like as we swirl around words into this storm of arousal for each other.
Since our word affair started the sex we have with our significant others have turned more intense and more thrilling. The sexting that we do together, benefit the bedroom sex. We are doing the pre foreplay to the physical foreplay and the eventual sex.
So you see my dear readers, sexting, when done right, can make the sex you have with your mate that much better. Now, do you choose the red pill or the blue pill?