Sexplorer2011
Really Experienced
- Joined
- Aug 16, 2011
- Posts
- 195
She never saw his face. Never knew his real name. But every few nights, her inbox lit up with a message that made her pulse race.
She called him X —clever, respectful, maddeningly eloquent. His words had a rhythm to them, like the way fingers brush along collarbones: deliberate, teasing, never rushed.
Tonight, his subject line read: *“Should I tell you what I dreamed?”*
It started innocently. A comment on her forum post. Then a reply. A shared confession—he liked playing with words more than webcams. “Let’s keep this between the lines,” he once said, “where imagination breathes.”
Tonight’s message described his dream. She was wearing one of his shirts. Her voice was low. She’d called him *a wicked man*. He wrote that he had kissed her wrist and whispered, “You make virtue look overrated.”
She replied, quickly. “Tell me more.”
His next email arrived minutes later. She clicked—breath held.
Inside was only one sentence:
*“Only if you’ll admit what you just imagined.”*
===
I still have more to say...
But I prefer secrets whispered between strangers.
If you'd like to hear how it ends—just write me. I’m reading.
Literotica prefers that, if you use it's forum to find someone to RP with, then you keep that story on the forum for everyone.
It's posted in a "sticky" at the top of the forum as a reminder.
She called him X —clever, respectful, maddeningly eloquent. His words had a rhythm to them, like the way fingers brush along collarbones: deliberate, teasing, never rushed.
Tonight, his subject line read: *“Should I tell you what I dreamed?”*
It started innocently. A comment on her forum post. Then a reply. A shared confession—he liked playing with words more than webcams. “Let’s keep this between the lines,” he once said, “where imagination breathes.”
Tonight’s message described his dream. She was wearing one of his shirts. Her voice was low. She’d called him *a wicked man*. He wrote that he had kissed her wrist and whispered, “You make virtue look overrated.”
She replied, quickly. “Tell me more.”
His next email arrived minutes later. She clicked—breath held.
Inside was only one sentence:
*“Only if you’ll admit what you just imagined.”*
===
I still have more to say...
But I prefer secrets whispered between strangers.
If you'd like to hear how it ends—just write me. I’m reading.
Literotica prefers that, if you use it's forum to find someone to RP with, then you keep that story on the forum for everyone.
It's posted in a "sticky" at the top of the forum as a reminder.
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