Nothing more than a man in a room, writing to a memory. His mind becomes distracted and the memory fades.
I’ve been thinking about the years since I’ve gone out dancing to night clubs. Now 35, I consider the amount of time in the last 10 years I’ve either spent in an office or in-between opportunities. These long stretches of reasons to not go out and socialize at night clubs. These days… I feel so old and out of place. My hair is thinning. The quality of my teeth aren’t what they should be.
I now have money though, something I liked in my youth. I could buy girls drinks and not talk to them comfortably. I can keep piles of influential drugs that will intoxicate those looking to be lost in self-sabotage. Not feeling young though… I think it would bleed through anything I would have to tempt a young woman.
Online though I have been sending persistent bothering to this 21-year-old shy shut-in. She is so enchanting. She keeps her hair so nicely and her large lips leave an area to gaze mystifyingly. At first, for months it was just me remarking on her. She’s explored my other social media, and we’ve talked more, and now she invites the compliments. She sends videos to tease. I’ve not seen her nude but I suspect if I searched her twitter hard enough I could find it with little hesitation.
She has lately been asking me about my lust. To hear about it. To allow me to unfurl what I have bound deep within me, the cravings to let my fingers wander down her body. To reach my arms out and firmly grasp her neck. To see every expression of her eyes and jaw as I push her limits. She sends me videos in her tight panties, angling to hint at what is underneath.
These months talking to her online… lusting her… has not been helping me foster real-life connections. I am really more alone, stumbling from office job to her online messages. Not seeing others not finding dates, not building skills. Hoping to just see more of her panties stretch over her pussy. I’ve failed at being a member of my community. It’s not her fault and it’s just not her- switching from different stimulations to help pass the time.
It grows within me, this feeling of loss, that no amount of her pussy could ever offer back. It doesn’t matter though, even now, I sit on my phone typing out a sext to her. Wanting to read her responses. Pacified by myself.
It’s not like interacting with things outside of the office or this young temptress offers me anything. Most people are dumb or shy away from me. It feels like I am always up greeted. I suppose I don’t know how to connect with others. I don’t want to sink the time in maturing with a community that will eventually shun me.
“I want to know how much I torture you” she messages me.
