Email to Pleasure

They say that the eye is the window to a man's soul. If so, then watching Lora is my way to ecstasy. She enjoys being watched. I know that. And I enjoy watching her. She knows that too. It seems to be a simple arrangement. Two people who have never met, and probably never will, engaging in something that so clearly outside the bounds of "proper". What would have happened if we had met in different circumstances? Would we have hit it off? Would we have ended up as lovers? Friends? Who knows.

It is such a wonderfully simple, yet totally engaging relationship. He knows that I enjoy being watched, looked at, even lusted after. The longer I am watched, I know from experience, the more aroused he will get. I like him watching me for awhile. And I want to egg him on. Even though I will never meet him in a physical reality there is nothing unreal about where we meet. I am delighted that I met him here, had I met him elsewhere with our mutual commitments to the life where we live we may never have had more than a passing nod, but here in this reality we have so much.

At the heart of the matter is her beauty. She is by all manner of speaking absolutely gorgeous. Every line, every curve... is perfect. Her face, her hair... perfect. I can imagine her waking beside me, smiling. I can picture her holding my hand as we drive along in the warmth of an April day. I am by no means, bad looking. But the physical nature of this relationship is confined to watching... me watching her. Does she enjoy watching as much as being watched? I don't know.

His comments about my beauty and my body make me feel so sensuous, encouraging me to tease and show to gain more appreciation. He is handsome, masculine, intelligent all of which add to my enjoyment of the electronic moments we share in tandem. I picture him in my mind and as he watches me I watch him. My exhibitionism has never had much point or interest without watching the response. Virtually always I have let the voyeur know that I knew he was watching. Some would turn away: for most knowing seemed to add to the intensity. And, then I would as much as whatever circumstance would allow, increase the show, push the limits, and sometimes to my delight watch them masturbate.

I have no experience here. All my past relationships have been active... meaning I have been an active participant in their natural progression. But here I am passive. I am a bystander doing the one thing that I know turns her on. Watching. My eyes devour her, engulf her. And she revels in it. What does she imagine when she sits at her computer. Does she imagine me touching her. Does she think of me touching myself, becoming aroused by her appearance.

I am happy that he is not just a bystander here, but an active participant as our relationship follows it's natural progression. I revel in his watching and telling me how he feels. Telling me what he is doing as he looks over my body. I think of my hand on his hardness, moving it up and down as he looks up and down my body. I think of him watching my hands move on my body his excitement inducing my own in an ever deepening circle of passion. I look at my photos, and do everything I can to find an erotic one: one where my eyes will look straight at him as his drink in my body, and my eyes tell him I am watching his hardness increase, his stroking gain speed and pressure, his own wetness showing as mine does.

I try to imagine her sitting before her computer reading these words. I wonder if she is naked now. I wonder if she is moved by these words. I wonder. Both of us are busy... both successful. Both have mates already who are ignorant of our relationship. And what is it that keeps me coming back? What is it that makes me want to watch again? What makes me continue to write these stories, these thoughts to a stranger who in many ways is closer to me than any other person on the earth? It can not just be the tingling in my cock as I read and write and know that she will know I'm stroking myself as I do and that image will excite her.

I knew that reading this again and writing responses would excite me so I sit naked in front of my computer with a towel on my sofa underneath me to keep from staining my sofa. I am deeply aroused by his words, his descriptions of how reading what I write and looking at my body make him feel. I hope he never tires of our writing back and forth. I hope he never gets bored with my photos. We don't have a great deal of time to write, or even to try to be on line in real time together. His career and his family leave little time for his private time with me. My job, my final semester in grad school, my finance, my wedding planning all allow me just a few moments here and there to enjoy this unique and pleasurable time with him. We both understand that: and we both accept it. We also do whatever we can to squeeze some time as often as we can because our time writing and mutually watching has become important to both of us. I see his handle in my inbox, and my heart skips a beat for I know waiting on the click of my mouse will be sensual delight. I find as I read what he has written myself drifting into almost another dimension: one that belongs to us, one that no one else shares nor would understand.

Last night as I made love, my mood was restless. My wife distant again, focused on the many other things that occupy her time. Kids, house, meetings.. etc. And in my heart I did something that I rarely do when we make love... I pictured someone else there. I pictured Lora. As I licked her pussy until it was dripping wet, it was no longer my familiar mate.. but my secret lover. The passion of watching had built to incredible peaks inside me. Time and time again I had stolen away into the basement.. to the office.. to the laptop with Lora's images stored away. Those bits and bytes only glowing pixels.. yet together they formed perfection. An image that caused me to be aroused again and again. To stroke myself, get my hands wet with pre-cum. The more I stroked and looked the more I gave myself to abandon. And pumped. To cause my orgasm.

Having read and become aroused by this the first time, and later, lying in my bed, imagined David with me, licking me, kissing me, feeling me as I brought myself to climax, I knew this section was here. It's anticipation over the last half-hour of reading and writing as left me tingling and soaking wet. This is only enhanced by knowing what looking at my body has induced in him: feelings I want him to have; lusting in incredible peaks; aching for release in me and on me. My body and emotions are ready to receive him inside me. To push gently as I direct his cock to my opening, and then to feel him deep inside me. I squeeze him with my thighs and the muscles inside my now equally aching pussy. I feel his thickness riding against my insides, rubbing on my swollen clit. My hips move without my direction, they lift as my back arches to get him deeper inside me. My eyes close, and nothing fills my mind now but the joy of David making love to me, and so I lean back against my couch and let the fantasy with which we have both enveloped each other become reality in my body and spirit and take over. I give myself in sexual pleasure.

So when it was time to replace my tongue with my cock deep inside her.. it wasn't her, but Lora who lay under me. I could feel her arms around me. I could feel the naked breasts pressing against me. I could see her eyes in the dark, letting me for the first time experience her as I had imagined so many times before.

And when I came... it was magical. It was complete. It was enormous. Perhaps she felt it there, in the dark, laying in her bed. Thank you, again, Lora, for an exquisite release.

My arousal was so great, his pressure inside and on my body so exhilarating, that my orgasm was fairly quick. I am emitting deep sighs of satisfaction from the intensity of my pleasure. Slowly now I will make the transition from this reality to my other. I will send this to him so he knows how he made me feel. And because I know when he reads how I feel, he will become aroused again, cum again; and write to me again, and I will cum again. Because we will continue doing this for each other in the haven we have created for ourselves, and to which we will give ourselves to at every opportunity. And, mostly, because he likes to know as much as I about him that he is giving me pleasure. And he has.

And, thank you David for another joyous orgasm.