sexts from whenever

[inuyasock]

the phone sex +
sexting meme

what it says on the tin. leave a blank comment, include your preferences or a starter, it's all good. reply to others with a text, a dirty picture (please link all nsfw things!), misfires, misdials, drunk filthy voicemails, whatever your heart desires.

Comments

[geosophic]

It is not an unreasonable request, despite how suddenly it is delivered. There are too many facets of it that are dependent on a trust that we do not yet have--after all, there is nothing to say that you will stick to your promises. Many have been tempted to trust an easy route--and many have been slain once stepping foot upon it.

The shift of your weight is not surprising; you wish to start to close the distance between us, physically and mentally, and I am used to being stared at. I do not move, though there is a pleasantness to your demeanor that is hard to escape. A smell to you that I enjoy. Your skin looks like it might be softer than mine.

"Prove to me you are true to your word," I suggest, calmly. I will not offer any methods--to me, that is your responsibility. "Only then will I join you."

[ironwind]

"How would you like me to prove it?" I ask, but the question is rhetorical. Your tone makes it clear that you have issued me a challenge. I close my eyes; I calmly regard the fine, yet common objects around me. I already know from that molten gaze of yours that there is nothing in my tent that would interest you. I cannot promise you a fine blade, or an army, or the return of your slain loved ones. I can give you only cold revenge.

But. There are things in this world beyond vengeance. There are more ways to lose trust than to make it. I know these things, and so do you. My fingers curl in the sheets between us. My body longs to touch yours.

"Long ago," I say, "this ritual had nothing to do with conquest. It was not meant to conscript or humiliate new soldiers. It was a privilege. A consummation of an oath. The khan would take his most favored warrior to bed, and all would know that valor earns you your king's love."

My hands — they reach up, caress your face. My body presses against yours at last, not to violate, but to promise. Perhaps I am soft, both in skin and in spirit, but for you, I will be unyielding. I mean to show you that I will be a man of my word.

I do not seek your forgiveness, but I do seek your consent.

"Let me prove to you that I will treat you as well as I have promised to."

[geosophic]

A king's love? A peculiar thing to be spoken to one that does not have a king.

Love is something incredibly foreign to a warrior like me. Loyalty and trust are ideas that I can place some weight onto, can feel them bend or even break with the effort...Promises. Contracts.

( Ah, I slipped out of character... Forgive me. )

I do not lean away from your touch. After all, I have issued you a challenge, and you are taking to it remarkably well. Your fingers are soft, the sort that have not been hardened by too much work, and it has been a long time since someone has touched me for pleasure.

So I will allow it.

"Show me."

[ironwind]

A contract between the two of us, then.

You don't have to apologize.

My hands slide from your face down to your chest. Feeling you — every inch, every curve. Through your clothes at first, but then, when I have learned the shape of your body, without them, discarding them to the floor. Your body is beautiful, sculpted as it is for war. I would worship it gladly, in another time, another place.

But tonight is not about worship. It is for the making of a promise, the binding of our pact. My fingers, dancing indulgently over your skin — that will not be enough. The way I touch my mouth against yours, kissing softly — that will not be enough, either. I move lower. Extract you from your pants. Perhaps you are still soft, but I like it that way. Easier to fit you into my mouth. Wet you with my tongue. Feel you grow harder, bit by slow bit, with every stroke, every attentive suck. Nothing in it is clumsy. Perhaps I have done this before. Perhaps this is only the depth of my devotion to you. Your taste. Your musk in my mouth. A deep breath, a sigh, a swallow. I want you; that much cannot be feigned.

Do you feel me, Zhongli? The warmth of my hands on your body, the wet between your legs?

[ it's intentional, perhaps — the blurring between character and reality. ]

[geosophic]

Is it not the purpose of our play, for me to touch myself to the thought of your storied ministrations? It is only such a clear picture because it is a picture wearing your face and your body.

I want you, but that has not changed, my traveler.

( lines fully blurred, now. )

[ironwind]

Then touch yourself.

Think of me.

Show me.

[geosophic]

I would prefer you to be present, to show you.

[ironwind]

Where can I find you?

[geosophic]

Where would you prefer to find me? I'll go there.

[ironwind]

Come to my adeptal realm, then.

We won't be disturbed there, and we can take all the time we need.

[geosophic]

Easy enough. I'll be there.