Greetings Solo Touch readers.
Brief intro: I'm a thirty year old Asian American man with a heightened sexual awareness. The balance of sounds, thoughts, visual imagery, and touch are the elements for passion in my sexual world.
I have been reading posts here for nearly a year, and feel it's time to contribute. Here goes, my humble real life snippet:
[Friday Aug 20, ~10AM] Coffee isn't working today and I'm still seven hours short of freedom, a swath of projects piled on my desk. At times, my palm brushes subtly over my lap, as if to calm misplaced hunger.
[Friday Aug 20, ~4AM] It has been a slumber of wretched tossing and turning. My body had for long hours been on fire, but I slinked into bed too exhausted to notice. My hand instinctively slips into my boxers. My equipment throbs with lustful energy. As if deftly working dangerous equipment, my hand makes strong rhythmic motions. At times, my hand slows down and my thumb massages circularly, causing me to gasp reflexively at every round. I never become fully conscious, but urgent feelings and the pounding rhythm of music course through my body. The need to sleep finally wins the battle of needs.
[Thurs Aug 19, ~10:30PM] Jennifer is ostentatiously sexual as usual. Tonight, she's wearing a tight checkered skirt which accentuates her firm, round bottom. She's a married woman, doing project work in my area, and we only know each other casually. I am strong at reading people's signals. The ability to see and hear deeper into these things creates wonders for relationships, especially in bed. Jennifer's signals tell me that beneath that smoking hot exterior, her deepest passions are reserved for her husband. I love that kind of devotion. Anyway, we're talking. She tells me with basic detail which sexual positions she loves.
[Friday Aug 20, ~1:00AM] I'm drenched all over. I've been dancing for nearly two hours. The DJ tonight has really locked the beat. My body has been flowing to some of the best club music I've heard in awhile. In a spontaneous move, I spun 180 and shook my behind in front of Jennifer. She immediately began to spank me in rhythm to the beat. When I turn to smile, she returns a flirtatious grin. I catch an unexpected glimpse of her cleavage. The party rages on.
[Friday Aug 20, 2:45AM] I've just gotten home and splashed cold water against my face when John calls. He's still at the club. His car got towed. Five minutes later, my car screeches off back onto the empty streets of L.A.
[Friday Aug 20, ~10:15AM] My assistant has been making all sorts of obvious blunders this morning. My irritation begins to wake me up. I call her into my office and tell her to sit down. There are two versions of what happens next, one of them obviously existing only in my mind. In that version, I tell my assistant sternly and firmly to lean over my desk and to plant her palms flat on the surface. I explain to her that blatant mistakes were costing me time and money and that she would need to accept her forthcoming punishment. At that moment I remove a wooden ruler from one of my drawers, and begin swatting her. Not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough to make a defiant, indelible smacking sound. Submitting to my power made her tingly inside and out.
[Friday Aug 20, 11:00AM] Sexual feelings typically ebb and flow, but the ones this morning were of a more decisive, intense, kind. They engulfed me. My heart rate is up, and I feel flushed in my chest. Tingling sensations occasionally shoot through my arms, legs, and in a most torturous fashion, through my manhood. My breathing is deeper. I cannot wait any longer. I close myself behind the bathroom stall, and unzip my pants. Images and music are still persistently flashing in my mind. I begin stroking and pumping away at my hungry, itchy manhood. At times, I hit a spot or use a pressure that shoots pleasure to every remote inch of my body. Did I get Jennifer hot? I imagine her rushing back to her husband, stripping naked and flush with desire, making love to him, she inspired by me. I imagined a firm supple bottom gyrating and thrusting to clamp down a hungry cock. How tortured and delirious I felt!
In the next moments, as a swath of feelings gripped me on the inside as if hungering for oxygen. My stroking and rubbing was feverish. As if in epiphany, my eyes grew large and I fixated something beautiful and indescribable. My lungs gasped deeply for air, then locked tight, my body, mind, and soul entering a new world made entirely of feelings ... a special area of muscles at the area of my crotch tightened, as if to take on the burden of an impossible taunting weight. I'm rubbing faster now, consumed and almost becoming weightless. Then suddenly that tortured tightened muscles in my groin heave out rhythmically. My body shudders and shakes in tow with that feeling, with uncontrollable waves of pleasure washing over with those muscle contractions. I'm awash in satisfaction.
[Friday October 22, 2:50] Present hour. I vividly recall August. Urgent feelings course through my veins and indeed my breathing is hard. Suffering is good. Today, I will wait until I get home. For tonight, my special someone will meet me at home. From when I see her, I will undress her, cover her with my warm hands, and make her see with that profound throbbing and shuddering between her legs the things which I offer only to her.