It has been a while since I shared one of these conversations.
I met Keysha at a weekend-long convention I attended; between events at the convention, I spent my time in my hotel room, door open, reading a book and listening to the world outside.
A few weeks after the convention, I corresponded with Keysha. We both had plans to attend the convention again the next year, but it never happened.
Keysha wishes muchly that you'd simply dragged me into your room at Con. I'd wanted to pester you, but every time I saw you alone, you were reading.
D'jaevle smiles. I was keeping myself entertained; several people did come by to pester me. But you were mostly otherwise occupied. Besides, how much trouble do you think you'd have let yourself get into?
Keysha pages: Actually, a lot of the time I was bouncing around, looking for things to do.. and I tend to not interrupt people who are reading, I value my time with books. But… *whimpers* Enough trouble to get both of us hungry for more? At the right touch, I'd have done anything…"
D’jaevle touches your cheek, but his fingers are not gentle, "Anything? Because I can tell you that if you had responded right…so easy to slip your shirt over your head, to give a naked canvas to play with. For fingers to linger on your shoulders, slipping around the front from behind."
Keysha whimpers from more shivers. "Being touched can be the greatest seduction, when it's done right. And if someone takes that time, I'm very seducible. Anything."
D’jaevle brushes your lips with fingertips, "You know well enough now, my patience. Unfolding, the slow heat. Finding each sensitive part. I thought of it – of what you would look like under my fingers. Of how your whimpers would sound."
Keysha curses missed opportunity, and tugs your jeans lower, caressing the revealed skin with her lips and fingers. "This gives us… who knows how much added time, to tease one another before we meet, then?
D’jaevle takes another deep breath as you move. "Enough." He takes a slow breath, "Anything. Anything, hands finding your bare breasts. Anything, fingers parting to capture nipples. Anything, walking that edge, seeing how far you'll let the line take you, there in a room."
Keysha wraps both of her legs around one of yours and whimpers, pressing her face against your stomach to muffle it. "Such cruel thoughts you fill my mind with.. and yes.. anything. I would happily be led down that line, as far as it would take me."
D’jaevle pages: Cruelty is a double-edged knife, and soon I must sleep.
Keysha would far rather have you at night than sleep.
D’jaevle smiles. Are you offering yourself in the place of sleep?
Keysha blushes. "If you'd want me"
D’jaevle chuckles, "Oh, I do. But to replace sleep…you'd have to offer yourself. Your skin. Your heat. What do you fear?"
Keysha pages: to me, there are two types of fear,.. but one is better expressed as dread. I don't /dread/, talking to you on the phone,.. I fear it.. which is a much more delicious sensation, one I can savor and enjoy, and succumb to if I were to go through with it. It would be the delight of being drawn into talking, and of teasing, since I'm the most nervous on the phone, out of any form of interaction. It's the knot in the pit of my stomach, that feeling of danger, without it being present, and then, giving in and letting go…. that's what I mean. It's enough to make my whole body ache with wanting,.. enough to make me stifle whimpers just from reading and thinking of what you suggest doing to me.. it's fearing that I would give in to all of it, if I could, and wanting to. It's wanting to be helpless under your control.
D’jaevle pages: Tell me what you want.
Keysha pages: I want to feel the heat of your kisses, and your hands, roughly parting my legs as I lie beneath you. I want the sensation of your teeth against my nipple, biting hard enough to make me gasp as you enter me, after driving each other nearly to the brink of madness with desire. And I want to feel us give each other shuddering pleasure until we collapse, spent and exhausted, finally able to rest, too tired to move apart. I want to feel my heart racing just at the thought of you, feel my breath quicken at the sight of you, my legs tremble at the sound of your voice.
D’jaevle smiles. Yes. And now – now, what is it you want me to make you do?
Keysha pages: other than beg for release?
D’jaevle pages: Yes.
Keysha doesn't know what her options are, which makes it hard.
D’jaevle smiles. Take off your shorts.
Keysha does so… but only after closing the blinds.
D’jaevle pages: 'Panties.'
Keysha blushes… and does.
D’jaevle pages: “Part your thighs. Press your palm down along the inside, against the heat. Drag your fingers up against yourself. Then again. Again. Until you are wet.'
Keysha shivers and whimpers, doing as you ask, eyes closed for a minute.
D’jaevle pages: 'It won't take much. You're already right there. Fingers moving, think of my eyes on you.’
Keysha is…very wet, with an aching pain between her legs, needing to be filled, joined.
D’jaevle pages: ‘I want to hear you whimper. When I tell you how I am going to nudge against you, just barely inside, just at the edge, back and forth.'
Keysha buries her face against the bed, hiding. "Oh god, that's cruelty. It's like holding water before a person dying of thirst, and keeping it just out of reach."
D’jaevle pages: ‘I told you cruelty was double-edged.’