We had known each other for months by the time we actually met face to face. By this time there had been the almost daily exchanges of erotic correspondence, followed by the trading of photos showing how aroused we were by each others' words. There had been many telephone conversations, which invariably ended with both of us masturbating, each listening to the other's fantasies, voice, breath. The way you sounded at orgasm never failed to bring on my ejaculation.
When we did meet at the motel, we decided to play, at least this first time, by the same rules that had bound us up to this time - after all, we had never touched, never kissed, never held each other. In this way, each of us could preserve a feeble semblance of fidelity - we could do anything but touch each other.
But that didn't mean I didn't have plenty of ideas of what we could do.
Standing on opposite sides of the bed, we began to unbutton our shirts, me slipping mine off to reveal my shoulders and chest, yours falling to the floor to reveal your brassiere that held the fullness of your breasts that I had so often longed to see. You sensed my excitement and slowly reached back to unclasp your bra, and you carefully slid it off your body, showing me little bit by bit more of your breasts until finally your nipples came into view. They were already hardened; you put your hand to your mouth, finding some saliva and then stroking it over one of your nipples, massaging, tugging with your fingers. "That's me, baby," I said to you. "Just think of it as my fingers touching you like that..."
Your breath quickened as you pinched your nipples hard between your fingers. I could hear the arousal in your voice as you ask me to get undressed all the way for you, to show you what you've been dreaming about all this time. The sound of my zipper is loud in the room, and you watch intently as I slowly lower my pants.
As you watch me, you feel yourself getting damp, your heart pounding beneath your breasts, which rise and fall with each breath you take. You slip the buttons of your skirt loose, letting it drop to the floor. Your fingers graze your pussy as you watch my pants slide down my legs, revealing the hard bulge in my boxers.
Seeing your skirt slip off your body onto the floor -- revealing the skin of your stomach, the curve of your hips, the softness of your thighs -- I tug at the waistband of my boxers, indeed I have to pull it out some distance to be able to draw the garment out to clear my erection, which then becomes visible to you -- my cock jutting upwards from my hips -- you first notice the swollen bulb at the end, engorged with blood it is nearly purple; then your eyes trace downwards to my shaft -- you can see clearly the lattice of veins along the stalk, and the tube that runs along the underside of my shaft -- the tube through which my semen will travel as it is urgently propelled out of me. You notice how my entire cock bobs up and down -- literally reflecting the beats of my heart, which pounds hard in my chest given my proximity to you. And your eyes travel down to the wrinkled skin of my scrotum, lying in folds around the base of my cock, and the bulges of my two balls that hang inside.
You kneel down in front of me, your face inches away -- "Don't," I say abruptly, "don't forget our rules -- no touching." And you smile up at me then close your eyes and inhale -- taking in that special scent of male genitals -- it makes you gasp and you look around, confused as to what to do next -- you get up and sit on the edge of the bed, overwhelmed by your desire, flustered at your inability to taste it fully.
