Daydreams & Distractions ☼ Come On

Come On
A Daydream & Distraction by Redbud

  • My comment on Monocle’s story Come On. As usual, his writing reminds me why I enjoy blogging with him so much. If you haven’t read his story, then read it first.

“I want you to come on me.”

She laughs at me, a short quick laugh before she stops herself. “Really?’
We’re in the doorway. We’ve been kissing. We’re headed for the bed but liked being in the doorway, her back against the jamb, then mine, then hers again. She laughs. That trill and the way she cocks her head makes me lick my lips and desire the taste of hers. Her laughter, like everything else about her, intoxicates me. “Ok…” She bites her bottom lip for an instant. “How? Like a guy? I mean,” she leans back, away from me, “how do I come on you?”

“On top of me.”
“Yeah…” she says, slowly. “Like you want me to spurt?”
She looks at me. She’s waiting. Then she cracks a smile and she’s pushing me back against the jamb, arms outstretched over my shoulders. She closes her eyes and licks my chin. “Tell me,” she says. I can smell her. I smell her breasts and her slender neck. I’ve been her lover for six months and I feel like I hardly know her. She entrances me as though she were my first kiss, my first scent of a woman’s sweat and wetness. My cock answers her, all of her, the sound of her, the smell, the texture, her warmth, her angular grace and her softness. I’m rigid and I want to fuck her, suddenly, unstoppably, deeply.

But six months feels like six minutes and even though my cock has been inside her womb, her ass, her mouth. Even though she’s swallowed the taste of me and her thighs have dripped with me, I hesitate. Why? Shyness? Shame? Vulnerability? “I want you to get on top of me.” I’m blushing. “And sit on my cock. I want you to masturbate. I want you to come on me.”
“Sit on your cock?”
“Inside you.”
“Tell me more,” she says, licking my lips.
“I won’t move.”
“What about me?”
“Do what you want,” I say. “Just pretend I’m not there. I just… I want to know… when you masturbate. I want to be inside you. I want to feel what it’s like. I’ve never seen a girl masturbate. I want to know what she feels. I want to be inside her.”
“You want to know what ‘I’ feel?”
“You want to know?”
“Yeah,” I answer. “I want to know you.”

She’s not laughing now. I know that look – her want. She’s pulling me out of the doorway, then pushing me backward to the bed. Next I’m on my back and she’s pulled my pants off and pushing up my shirt. When I start to speak she puts a finger to my lips. “You’re not here,” she whispers. “I have a dildo.” She puts her hands around my cock and begins to stroke. “When I’ m horny. I put it on the bed. Upright.”

She strokes me quietly, then stands and begins undressing.
She smiles, awkwardly. I think I see her blush, then she closes her eyes. She stretches. She pinches her nipples under her T-Shirt. She runs her hands down her thighs. I’m transfixed. There’s a real woman. Here. All those times in highschool when I used to imagine what girls did in their own rooms. What did they look like? How did they sound? I would come imagining them.
The motion of her slender body is intimate and private. She is beautiful. She is everything that ever aroused me. Her palm-sized breasts, the teaspoon curve of her hips, and the taut oval of her stomach make my body churn with the need to release inside her.

She pushes down her pants.

Her T-Shirt stays on. Her nipples swell and stretch beneath the rounded fabric. God, I want them in my mouth – T-Shirt, nipple and all. Is there a man who can rationalize the power of a woman’s body? Her legs, hips, breasts, lips, smell, voice and eyes are like magnetic field lines. My body is drawn to her. The poles of my mind and cock align. How have the millions of years so perfectly attuned desire to just the site of her? Her body tells me: This must happen.
But it mustn’t.
I don’t move. My cock is stretched and erect, but I don’t act. Her T-Shirt is still on when she straddles me. She takes my cock in one hand, closes her eyes again, leans back her head as her own weight wetly opens her and drives my presence upward and inside her. Her exhalation turns dark and deep as she takes my full width and length. My own eyes flutter with the soft striations that warmly engulf and succor me. I lift up her T-Shirt just so I can see her flat and muscular belly with my own presence hard and upright inside.

She pushes my hands away.
She smiles and starts to move up and down. “I just want to fuck you.” Her voice is strained.
“No,” I answer, lying. I quickly move my hands away. “I’m not here.”
“I don’t know…”
“I don’t know,” she says again. “I’m kinda’ self-conscious. It’s embarrassing.”
“Will you masturbate for me? Next?”
She gives her hips a flick and draws a pang of pleasure from my cock. “Ok…” She settles her weight on me and closes her eyes. Inside, she is all warmth, wetness, dark, soft and feminine. Outside, she is swollen, flushed, smooth, round, womanly and beautiful. One finger finds her clit. Her other hand finds her nipples beneath the T-Shirt. I can feel her breath on my cock. I’ m inside her as she begins to masturbate.

She doesn’t move, or rather, she doesn’t rise and fall as though I were there.
She moves, but it’s as though I wasn’t there.
Her hips cant, her belly and back arches as her finger begins to thrum on her clit. Her lips part and her head rolls back. She groans. “God… I’m so fucking hot.”
“Do you always wear a T-Shirt?” I gasp.
“I like it,” she answers. “It’s soft, warm, when you’re not around.”
“You imagine me?”
“Yeah,” she answers and gasps as I feel her muscles clench. I can see her quick preliminary spasm – her half-closed eyes, her parted lips – a woman in sexual pleasure. I want to pump. I ache to drive my cock upward, to answer her pleasure, but I grip the sheets instead. I swear my knuckles are white. I feel her too. I feel what it’s like inside her. What must be sharp spasms to her are the flutters of butterfly wings. My cock is like a barometer. I feel her muscles, their quick feminine palpatations as her pleasure gradually mounts. The pleasure of being inside her as she masturbates might be enough to draw my fluids out of me.

“Sometimes I imagine you on the bed, under me.” Her words come haltingly as her breath falters and trembles. “I just want to feel a man’s cock. You’re like a drug. Once I felt you inside me, all I can feel is your absence – my emptiness.” Her mouth opens wide as she presses down hard on me and her knees slide wider on the stretched bedsheets.

“Fuck…” I gasp.
“Sometimes I don’t imagine anything.” Her nipples are distended between the fingers of her hand. “Sometimes it’s just colors, sounds I imagine, just the want – wanting to feel you around me and inside me, the smell of you, maybe the smell of your T-Shirt and your heaviness.”
“You wear my T when you masturbate?”
“Sometimes.” She shakes with a small spasm.  “I like knowing its you, your shirt, your smell when I come.”  I feel every dark twitch and slippery contortion of her pleasure. “It’s like I’m coming just for you.”
This is what I wanted. I’m inside a woman as she masturbates. Not only do I see her, I feel her.

“Sometimes I fantasize,” she says. “Sometimes a woman needs to feel a man’s cock inside her as she masturbates. There’s something about a cock. But it needs to be perfect. It needs to be just the right shape, just the right hard and soft, just the right deep. And I go to a store where men are on there backs. They’re naked – on disply. Their cocks are erect. You’re there, but I don’t know you. All I know is that your cock looks perfect.”
Her undulating abdomen clenches again.
“I pay them what they want. I’m in business clothes and a skirt. All I have to do is move my panties aside and climb on top. You’re not allowed to touch me. You’re not even allowed to look at me. Who knows how many women have already used you today. You’re just a cock I want to feel in me – just the right stretch and length as I masturbate. And God, you feel so good. You’re just what I need. I’ll feel so much better once I’m done. I’ll be able to get on with my day.”

She begins to tremble.
Her fingergtips move more quickly over her clit and brush the base of my cock. Her belly is pivoting back and forth around the rigidity inside it. I feel all of her. The lightness of her body on mine, her breath, her shuddering pussy, even, I swear, her heartbeat. I’m seeing the girl and feeling the inside of her. I’m drunk with her eroticism.
“When I’m done,” she breathes. “I’ll feel the imprint of your cock inside me, all day, I’ll feel so…” She groans and stiffens. “…much better.”

“Come,” I beg. “Come on me.”
“I need to come,” she mewls, her inhibitions forgotten. “Watch me.”
“I’m watching.”
“I’ve never been watched.” Her knees widen still more. “Girls masturbate too. We just do. We need you. We need to come too.”

Her head snaps forward and she comes on me.
I can feel the muscles of her abdomen like I’ve never felt them before. I feel what’s like inside her, the feathery spasms of her muscles, how the entirety of her body responds.

I watch her.
My hands are on her hips. I can’t help it. I want to feel her orgasm through my hands. I want to know everything – outside her, inside her – her experience.
When she is racked by a few, last, hard convulsions, I cup her breasts and feel the knots of her nipples at the palms of my hands. She is motion, breathe, voice, gasps, sharp and sudden flexing. I press and she presses back and downward. Her womb grips and releases my cock as though in gratitude.
I marvel. Every part of a woman feels made for pleasure, love and lovemaking.

My hands fall to her waist.
She leans forward. Her dark hair falls over my forehead, ears and pillow. She kisses me. “You’re turn,” she says.
“How?” I ask.
“Me on my back. You between my legs. Come on me,” she answers. “I’ve never seen a boy masturbate. I’ve never seen it come out.”
“You’re going to have to take a shower.”
“I hope so.”
“Or maybe we’ll just get stuck together.”
“Would that be so bad?”

☼ William Crimson
February 7 2011

Categories: Consensual, Erotica, Masturbation, RedBud, VoyeurTags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,


  1. vanillamom

    oh Will….i was captivated. Fully, completely as if i’d been tied to my chair…your words were delicious.

    How you can capture the feminine viewpoint…the slow building, the shyness…just hawt sweetness…(and a nice lil naughty fantasy in the middle–a fantasy sandwich for luncheon-)

    Thank You for this!


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