01: Dirty little secrets.
Friday, March 31, 2017, afternoon
I always had a disturbed relationship with sex. But I had never let it get that far. And yet here I was, risking my father's grudge for what exactly..? If I was late because of King, I would never forgive him, no matter what kind of "gift" he wanted to give me. Shit. If anything went wrong today, he would at least get an angry smiley or something.
A booming announcement echoed through the station grounds and only miserably drowned out all the babble of voices of the passengers. I squeezed through a group of tourists to the lockers and didn't even stop when I stepped on an old man's foot. I was already late anyway, so I couldn't afford to feign unnecessary politeness. Let them think what they wanted about me, I had to go home urgently. Arriving at the lockers, I walked purposefully to number 216. Back in the days I had to look for it, but now I had been here often enough to find it in my sleep. I turned the wheel, 7-5-3-9, and opened the narrow metal door. On the bottom of the compartment lay a rather small, brown cardboard box. I picked it up, knelt down to put it in my bag, closed the locker again, and rushed back to the exit of the station. My bus left in two minutes, if I missed it, I was screwed. But I was lucky. On my way back, I bumped into a tall guy in a suit, who was indignantly shouting something after me, but I reached the bus stop at exactly the same moment as the bus and so I was able to fall onto a free seat, breathing heavily.
Patience, Hinata. Everything worked! A little annoyed, I shook my head. King had chosen the worst possible day for his last-minute gift. Or Hiashi had simply guessed what a stress it would mean for me if I wanted to "just" go to the train station on my way home from the small welcome party at the university. Not that Hiashi knew about King or this locker, otherwise I wouldn't have to come home at all, but my father always had such an unusually fine sense of how he could unintentionally get me into trouble. It sucked.
After a short drive, I arrived at the Hyuuga estate. I crossed the entrance gate and the well-kept gravel garden and entered the cool genkan. "Tadaima," I murmured and took off my shoes. A soft clinking came from the kitchen. Sighing deeply to calm my still racing pulse, I walked down the hall to the second door and peeked around the corner. There stood Sukunai and, humming absently to herself, placed some glass bowls with all kinds of nibbles and salads on a trolley. "Hello, Okaa-san," I greeted my mother, tearing her out of her eagerness. Sukunai raised her eyes, wiped her hands clean on her apron, although they certainly hadn't even been dirty, and said simply, "Hinata. Go change, the guests will come any moment."
"Yes," I nodded and turned away while Sukunai continued to dawdle. I had not gone ten steps towards the stairs when a tall figure stepped in my way. Abruptly, I stopped, bowed, and said softly, "Otoo-sama."
"Hinata," Hiashi replied stiffly. Apart from this, he showed no reaction to his daughter's arrival, but marched in his usual proud step to the living room. Hey, ignorance was better than the riding crop, so everything was done right. That meant that he had nothing to complain about me today. In baby steps to success.
I looked after him out of the corner of my eye and could just hold back a distorted grimace, because two familiar slippers pushed into my field of vision. I just kept my head down and said as politely as I did to my father, "Neji-oniisan." He wasn't my brother, but I was still forced to address him like one.
"Go change, the guests will come any moment," Neji repeated Sukunai's words without an introductory greeting. My cousin received the same answer: "Yes."
When Neji had dabbled after Hiashi like a fucking mutt, I straightened up again, was finally able to grimace unnoticed and disappeared into my room on the third floor. I put my bag next to the neat desk, on which some books that I would need for my law studies in the future were already stacked on top of each other, and took out the small package to hide it in my walk-in closet behind the winter coats, where King's other gifts were already waiting to be used again. "Tonight..", I whispered and stroked the corner of the black box in which I stored all the utensils of my little secret.
In order not to provoke another tantrum from my father, I quickly put on a simple, beige kimono and put my hair up in a tight bun in the small bathroom I shared with Hanabi. When I looked at my work in the mirror, I shuddered slightly. This barbecue today was not a meeting, but the heavy fabric on my shoulders caused my pulse to shoot up uncontrollably. I took a few deep breaths to calm down. This was probably called PTSD, I had recently read something about it on the Internet. Unfortunately, the "post" in it was not correct, after all, there was no awakening from my nightmare in sight so far.
I was still plucking my bangs when voices floated up to me from below. They were there. My face turned to stone as usual and I went downstairs, where I silently stood between my mother and Hanabi and smiled briefly at my sister. We both nodded, hiding any emotion behind our mental masks and did what we were here for. We had to be objects of view, like damned vases on the shelf. Pretty, so that you thought: "Hey, this Hiashi Hyuuga knows what's good, I should invest in his company", nothing more. Apart from that, we should not draw attention to ourselves. Whereby.. When I peeked through my bangs and secretly examined the guests, I noticed that my father talked extensively today with a slimy-looking guy in his early twenties who kept looking in my direction. Has the time come? Had my father decided that I was getting too old for the meetings and introduced myself to a man he could marry me to? Basically, I was just waiting for it. Not that I was particularly excited about it, but I knew that this next step was only a matter of time. And I hated it.
As I had been trained to do in an almost unattainable and highly unhealthy perfectionism, I played my part. While I certainly inflicted permanent back damage on myself in front of every politician, judge, police officer and entrepreneur, I wondered how I could avoid entering an arranged marriage. I hadn't had a particularly positive experience with contradicting my father. The last time I had defied his orders, it had not ended too well for me, my psyche and my reproductive capacity. Back then I just didn't want to take part in a meeting, now it would be the refusal to let myself be sold like cattle to the highest bidder. I looked at the stranger. He didn't necessarily look like shit, but he looked like a typical bigwig. I'd spent my whole life in the circles of rich ass-crawlers and recognized a power-hungry narcissist when I had one in front of me.
The best example of this: My cousin. Neji was in his element, greeted the men politely and started conversations with them to ingratiate himself with them. He could slime, but he had also learned from the expert personally. I watched Neji inconspicuously as he shook hands here and there, inquired about what was happening in the city and refueled with vitamin B. Hiashi had really raised him to be a perfect mini-me, you just had to give him that. There was no hint at Neji's or my father's true nature. Few of those present here knew that my clan was showing a completely different face in secret, and those who did were rewarded for their silence in one way or another. Most people simply appreciated Hiashi for the successful and charismatic man he pretended to be so unsurpassed, and not for the ruthless motherfucker he actually was. Because my father was not only chairman of the Hyuuga Corporation, grandmaster in kenjutsu, passionate collector of old katana and – in his humble eyes – the best poker player on Honshu, no, he also continued the family tradition of running the Gin'nome-kai. In short, my father was a yakuza, boss of one of the big syndicates here in Kyoto. And that inevitably made me his personal possession.
Did I want to be that? Shit, no. Did I have a choice? Oh holy shit, no! If my father wanted me to get married, I had to obey, he didn't need my consent. And somehow.. Yes, somehow, I had to confess, I didn't care. For three years, since that cruel day that had shown me that nothing I did could change anything about my situation, even make it worse, I had been living in a different world anyway, which had nothing to do with this physical one. That sounded incredibly esoteric and wacky, and honestly, I didn't mean it that way. I was still here, eating – vomiting it afterwards, sleeping – at least pretending to, and breathing halfway normally, but I had come to terms with the fact that I couldn't escape my cage. Although I had to admit that I did it from time to time. Of course, Hiashi didn't know anything about it, and he would behead me if he ever found out, but I led a secret life that no one was ever allowed to know about.
Shortly after the incident in question, I had registered on "my-desire". It was a kind of Facebook, but with clearly pornographic content. There I was not the then fifteen-year-old Hinata Hyuuga, princess of the Gin'nome-kai and completely unable to have a normal conversation due to her years of social isolation. My profile showed a lustful young woman, now twenty-two, with a thin body, big tits, and a sense of aesthetic nudes. It sounded arrogant when I thought that in my own head, but my success on this platform proved me right. Many men jumped on my photos, in which I showed myself in provocative poses, put a spade necklace on my breasts or vagina and then pasted a pretty color filter over it. They wanted to chat with me and pay for videos. However, I had never gone that far. You could work your way up to a real porn star at my-desire and earn a lot of ashes, but for me something like that would mean that it could be leaked that I had only recently come of age, and by God, I wanted to avoid that. But it was also far too easy to click on that "Yes, I'm 18 or older", wasn't it? By now, it wasn't necessarily my online personality that I appreciated there, or even the sexual freedom that anonymity gave me, it was King.
As the hours passed and my feet slowly began to hurt in the wooden Zoris, I longed more and more for this man. It was already half past seven and at eight we had our date. I didn't want to miss that for the world, but I had to be careful. I couldn't afford to make any mistakes, otherwise I wouldn't live to see the morning.
Although I was nervous because I feared I would have to stand King up, there was one thing I had internalized more than anything else in my life: patience. At some point, at each of these little petting parties, there came a point when Hiashi didn't even cursorily pay attention to Sukunai, Hanabi and me. And it came when Hiashi announced that he was going to open a fine drop of sake. Five minutes to eight. An enthusiastic bustle went through the crowd in the spacious garden, and I took the opportunity to scurry back into the house and to the top floor unnoticed. Upstairs, I locked my room door and the door to the bathroom, as I did every Friday evening, and slipped the kimono off my body as I walked. Ten after. Shit. I had to hurry. I locked myself in my closet, pulled the laptop I had once secretly bought out of the black box, put it on the ottoman in the middle of the closet, knelt in front of it and pressed the power button. For my taste it took way too long, but PATIENCE.
I hastily opened the browser, the website my-desire and there the chat with King.
be_my_ace: [Hi, sorry for the delay, something got in the way. Are you there?]
King_size94: [Hey, I've already missed you * I thought you forgot about our date.]
be_my_ace: [How could I ever forget you..? I'm not done yet, I've only just come up. Do you have a few more minutes?]
King_size94: [I always have them for you!]
be_my_ace: [I'm hurrying, promise! Any preference today?]
King_size94: [Don't stress, Buttercup, I'm not running away from you :} And no, I just want to see you.]
Nervous, I jumped up, took off my underwear and slipped into one of the three lingerie sets King had given me. The corset would take too long now and the bra with the elaborate lacing was a pure torture anyway, especially since the thing looked like shit without the matching stockings and I didn't feel like wearing them today, so I stayed with the dress. At least that's what I always called it. It was a see-through bra with attached fabric that was open at the front, plus a thong with lace. It pinged, but I preferred to worry about finishing quickly so that King wouldn't have to wait. As usual in such stressful moments, my thumbnail permanently slipped off the closure flap of my opal necklace. Cursing softly to myself, I fiddled with the metal nipple until I could finally push it to the side, took off the silver chain and replaced it with the spade pendant. I had just put on the collar and pulled the big, blue-green butterfly mask over my face when under King's message: [Sorry, Buttercup, I can't wait any longer. I have to see you!, already the call for the video chat popped up.
A last check to make sure that everything was in place and that everything that wanted to be covered was covered, and with a pounding heart and an ever-widening grin, I guided the cursor to the small, green circle.
It took a few seconds for the broadcast to stand, and at first the image drew a few streaks as King moved, forming a peace sign and sitting more comfortably in his chair. Immediately, my eyes slid along his veiny arms, which I could never get enough of. As usual, he wore a black button-front shirt, the sleeves of which were rolled up to the elbows, and cloth trousers of the same black. Unconsciously, I licked my upper lip and whispered, "Hey." My closet was the only place where I could hold these streams, as it swallowed enough noise, but I remained cautious. If anyone in this house found out what I was doing here, I was dead.
King, as always, had his microphone off, so he wrote on his cell phone, a black one with a unremarkable case: [You look hot, Buttercup!]
If this was possible at all, I grinned even wider. "Thank you. And I'm sorry again that I'm so late."
[Don't apologize for that, it's all good. How was your day?]
"Mh, a bit stressful. But at least I managed to pick up your gift. Should I unpack it?"
[Yes!]
I got up, walked over to the black box behind my highly professional setup, and returned to my kneeling position with the brown cartonage. During my short absence, King had written again. [Congratulations on our anniversary, Buttercup~ I hope you like it.]
I quickly skimmed the message, beamed into the camera and nodded. "I wish you a happy anniversary too, King." I couldn't help but laugh softly. "Who would have thought that we wouldn't get on each other's nerves after such a long time, huh?"
King started typing again and I bridged this time by pulling the flap out of the lid of the box to make it easier to open. A soft ping announced the message, which read: [You'll never get on my nerves. You're just too perfect.]
I clearly felt the heat rising in my ears and I looked to the side in embarrassment. "Thank you.." He had called me perfect. ME! For him I wasn't too fat or too pale or too small, no, I was perfect. No matter how many times he would say or write it, it would never feel normal for me to be called that by him of all people. And sometimes I was itching to just show him more, but we knew it was dangerous. Even though we agreed – at least I was one hundred percent sure – that we trusted each other, a face reveal was fraught with risks. Last but not least, there was the question of whether one found the other attractive at all, although I was of the opinion that no man who was so sexy with only two-thirds of his body could actually be ugly. But would he like me..? It had taken me a lot of effort to show my face with the butterfly mask and you could only see my jawline, the tip of my nose and a little bit of my eyes. Even then, King had said they were perfect. He was such a sweetie. I just had to confess that I hadn't told him that my eyes weren't blue at all, because that's just how they looked with the backlight of the screen. Actually, they were silver and, depending on the light incidence, they shimmered white, blue, violet, green or orange – like mother-of-pearl. But "blue" was at least more common than "shit, her eyes are a literal rainbow".
It pinged again. [I'll always give you compliments when I think they're appropriate :} But now open your gift, I want to see your reaction – tehe, you might think I'm just giving myself a gift..]
I tore myself out of the rapturous feeling that his praise had triggered in me and nodded. "Yes, I'll do it." I carefully placed the box on my legs and lifted the lid. A box appeared under a layer of crumpled paper and at the sight of it, or more precisely, at its clearly visible contents, I opened my eyes in surprise. "King.. That's.."
Even while I was still unpacking, I had seen his thumbs fly over his phone. [I chose one that is my size. Do you want to try it out right away?]
I grinned again, took the wrapped natural dildo out of the box, threw it aside and hastily pulled the flesh-colored silicone out of its packaging. It felt soft and supple, a bit yielding everywhere and yet firm. On the base were the wrinkled, hairless testicles and a suction cup so that it could be pounded against the wall. I knew such things from photos and videos, I had never seen one live, let alone held it in my hand or would use it just in a few minutes. Like a curious child discovering the world, I explored every inch of the dong and finally asked uncertainly: "And.. it's really your size?" I measured the circumference with my thumb and index finger, which were just touching. Thick was not even close to this one. A real cudgel of a cock. There were certainly bigger ones, I had already seen such trunks in porn, but this one was more than above average. Well, at least I would be able to feel it, if we ever had sex in real life, that was something. I guess..
King seemed to take a deep breath, then he put his phone aside, fiddled with his belt, opened it as well as the button and zipper of his pants and pulled the layer of fabric together with his black underpants a little deeper to expose his genitals. There it towered, long, thick, straight, pale, veiny, with a flat, flower-shaped birthmark on the lower third, surrounded by nothing but smooth, fair skin and an amazingly handsome scrotum. If penises could be beautiful, then his was definitely at the top of the list. With this thing, he could just be a dick model and I wouldn't question him. And he was already fully erect. Whereof? Probably only he himself knew. Had I contributed to it? Hopefully. I also hoped that he couldn't see in my mouth and eyes how much I was pleased with this sight, because after all this time it was actually nothing special anymore. Nevertheless, I was thrilled every time. He waved both hands briefly into his crotch as if to say, "Something like that, yes."
I held the dildo next to the screen and tilted my head scrutinizingly, as if I would somehow have the opportunity to confirm his statement. But no matter if he was honest or maybe had cheated about half an inch or so, I smiled and bit my lower lip briefly. "If that's the case, then I want to meet you soon."
King had previously placed his forearms on the leather armrests of his chair, now folded his hands, blocking my view of his penis, and slowly turned his chair to one side and the other. It was obvious that he was thinking, and I wondered if I had gone too far. We had agreed to wait, hadn't we? Why did I have to screw it again now?! We wanted to take it slowly, be sure about us and everything. But... I had already realized weeks, oh, months ago that I was ready. I was sure. I wanted to see him, at least once his face. And I wanted him to see me, all of me, I wanted to be touched by him, to finally feel him. This dildo was beautiful, yes, and it allowed us to get a little closer again, but this was not enough for my heart. I needed more. I wanted more. I wanted him, this damn King_size94 that I hadn't been able to get out of my head for two years, even though I didn't even know more than this comparatively small section of his body or his name. Damn. That was worse than having a crush on a fictional character, because at least you knew that they weren't real. But King was sitting somewhere in a dark room with a purple neon light and a laptop here in Kyoto, maybe in the house across the street or a block away, breathing and living and being just as horny as I was.
A movement brought me back to the here and now. King had picked up his phone again and was typing. And it was the damn longest tiping he'd ever done in a video chat. After endless seconds, even minutes, it pinged and I leaned closer to the screen to read its message. [I've thought about it and I can't deny that I don't have the urge to meet you too. I want to see you and know how you smell and how you feel. But I don't want to rush it with us. Two years is a long time, I understand that, but we should feel our way around before we make a mistake in the end. Can you wait until I'm ready?]
At the last words I smiled narrowly. "I'm a patient person, you know that. Are you angry with me now because I asked?"
An obvious snort went through his chest and he wrote: [I can't be mad at you for something like that, Buttercup. I have understanding for your longing, but please have some for my situation, okay? I don't want to go through something like that again, even though I don't think you're that devious. But when you experience something like that, you just become careful.]
"Of course, I am too. I don't want to risk being lured into a backyard again," I murmured, straightening my body a little, which had slumped a bit because of the change in mood, and to steer the topic back to the reason for our chat, I said, "I just see, you're not hard anymore." Behind the hand-held privacy screen, there was no longer a pretty, pink glans sticking out. I suddenly noticed that I had never seen him limp. King had either not allowed this situation in front of the camera in the first place or, as now, had known how to hide it. I had heard that many men were embarrassed to show off their non-erect penises, and King was one of them. What a pity, as I thought, I would have liked to have for this level of trust between us.
A hand wandered out of the picture at the top and I suspected that he was running his hand over his face or through his hair in embarrassment. One hand he typed: [Yes, sorry.]
"Did I ruin your mood?" In my head there was a plea that he should not push me away now. I needed him. Without King, I was... a nobody. If he went now, then—
My self-destructive thoughts didn't get any further, because King had written: [A little, but I trust you that you can quickly guide me back in the right direction :} Do you have lube?]
"No," I shook my head, "but I have something comparable." A quick scurry to the black box and I held the tube of petrolatum in the camera, which he also owned and always used for his rubbing sessions. "Tihi, look. Partner in... slime, I guess?"
King's whole upper body shook with laughter. [You're driving me crazy, Buttercup :D But that should work, for next time I'll send you lube, it's gentler on the material in the long run – and more slippery.]
"We want it slippery," I grinned and immediately pressed a generous drop of petrolatum onto the rubber glans. I didn't want to lose any more time. Usually, our video chats only lasted an hour because he couldn't be live after nine, it was gradually getting tight. Nevertheless, I didn't miss the opportunity to let the dildo wobble around in front of the camera for a moment and synchronize the movement with a silly sound, which elicited another laugh from King that was silent to my ears. [You're stupid, honestly ]
I grinned boldly. This way we treated each other, so relaxed and at the same time loving, was the highlight of every week for me. I just forgot everything around me. Only today my silliness served another purpose: I didn't want to show King my insecurity about penetration. I hadn't been a virgin for a long time, he knew that, even though he didn't know the truth behind it. Sex has always had something painful and humiliating about it for me and I still had to get used to the idea that sex could be beautiful, despite two years of digital tenderness with King and my general openness to this topic. It could be godd, damn it, Hidan was right, I just had to trust. And with a dildo, I had control over how deep and how fast and how I don't know what it penetrated me. There was no one here forcing me to do anything, even though I didn't want to disappoint King, of course. And I was so afraid of disappointing him. King was my everything.
Sighing silently, I half rose, pushed the thong aside at my vagina and positioned the dildo at my entrance.
A pinging drew my attention to the screen. [WAIT!] I paused and looked intently at the chat, where at the bottom appeared: [I want to enjoy the view for a moment..]
In the mini window that showed my camera perspective, I could see that my face was no longer on screen, so I slid back a bit on my knees and leaned forward a little to smile directly at King. "Do you like what you see?" I asked in a smoky voice and pulled the fabric of my dress further open at the front and then stroked my exposed belly.
[Fuck yes!, King wrote one-handed and began to rub his now hard member again. [You're so fucking sexy, Buttercup! I just wish that was really my cock..]
A longing sting shot through my heart and I was painfully reminded again that he was not here right now. I couldn't answer because I was afraid my voice might tremble, so I just smiled and let my upper body sink onto the dildo.
This feeling was...
It released something in me, and I was glad that King couldn't see my face because of the mask and the shadow that lay on my bowed head. I kept my mouth slightly open and gasped, although this sound did not testify to pleasure. Rather, it was a mental pain that became a physical one with every additional inch that this damn artificial shit thing pressed into me. In me, the advertised seven and a half inches felt much huger, although this number in itself was already enormous for a penis. For a moment, a thought flashed through my head that King's hands must be big, because on him this length and thickness didn't look nearly as scary as they felt right now. I giggled involuntarily and after a ping I saw with my vision blurred with tears: [What's the matter?]
King had stopped satisfying himself and seemed to be waiting for my answer, which I immediately gave him: "Nothing, it just feels so good." Why did I lie to him? Well, I knew why. King must not go. If I told him the truth and scared him away, then—
[Ride it for me, Buttercup!]
It wasn't an order, I was sure, it was more of a wish. And I wanted to give him everything he asked me for. Damn. I loved him. Even though the dildo wasn't even halfway inside me, I lifted my body. With one hand I held the pedestal, with the other I massaged my chest, where the stiff nipples cast deep shadows in the ceiling light of the wardrobe. Slowly I began to sink back down and now panted louder because of the pain in my head. King seemed to think this was a pleasure and I didn't want to tell him about the true background. No, he should have his fun, even if I was tormenting myself. After a quick glance at the screen, I closed my eyes. He was pumping again, breathing heavily, so I could indulge in my fear unnoticed. Every inch brought more pain and at some point, after eternal ups and downs, I felt my labia flat on my fingers. I moaned and grimaced.
It pinged. [Fuck, that looks so insanely hot!]
"It's just that it's.. huge.." A shaky smile played around my lips and I now accelerated my movements a bit, whereby the screams in my head became louder and louder and dared to penetrate to the surface. No, just don't cry now. It's just a dildo, King's dildo, King's cock.. That's what you want. You want it, just like that, exactly this way. You want his hands on your body – I continued to stroke my chest – you want him inside you – I put my head back and focused on the artificial penis inside me – you want to hear it, smell it, taste it – something salty wetted my lips and I licked it as the screams gradually turned into a dark moan, and the unnatural smell of silicone to something of him. King.. My beloved King. Why do you want to wait, don't you love me? I opened my eyes and saw the ceiling of the wardrobe come closer, move away, come closer, move away. I lowered my eyes. "Do you love me, King?"
His pumping stopped, although his cock twitched violently and certainly wanted to be rubbed further. Very slowly he continued his movements, took the phone and typed. Ping. [Yes, Buttercup, I love you..]
I pressed my lips together. "I love you too, King." Now I cried. "Can you.. Can I hear your voice? Only this one time. Just a little. Only if you cum.."
Again, this hesitation, but since I didn't stop riding the dildo, he leaned forward, did something on the keyboard that I couldn't see, and a crackled sound came out of the old speakers. King leaned back again, the leather of the chair creaked softly, and he cleared his throat, continuing to pump slowly.
"King.. I really love you."
"Buttercup..", he whispered piercingly.
I moaned slightly, also because I lowered myself deeper on the dildo than I had ever done before, and I now felt a physical pain in my stomach. But it was arousing and together with his voice I trembled with pleasure. It was so deep and rough, maybe it was also due to the quality of the speakers, but it was pure sex. The most beautiful sound on earth. I watched King pump, softly hearing the rustle of his clothes and his heavy breathing.
"I think I'm cumming..", I whispered and it was his piercing, calm "yes.." that chased me over the cliff. My abdomen contracted. There were no more screams, only moans, just this overwhelming feeling that King triggered in me. My body was shaking, and I drilled the dildo into me a few times very quickly from below until I could only squeal. King's bassy voice growled excitedly and when I fixed my glassy gaze on him, I just made out how his hand moved at a high speed so that it was nothing more than a bright spot on the screen, slowed down and he finally came into the palm of his hand. The sounds he made were heavenly. So that's what passion sounded like. So dark, excited, detached from all earthly things. It was better than in my wettest dreams.
We both stopped, looked at each other over the cameras – although I could only guess that he was looking at me, but since his hand was still caressing his member, I was very sure – and enjoyed the moment until I started laughing and gave free rein to the one thought that had spread in my brain: "I think your voice is very sexy, King, you could let me cum with that alone."
King laughed softly and growled, which drilled so deeply into my soul that it made me shudder. Yes, he was perfect, no matter what his face looked like. I didn't need to know. He could be disfigured, have a fly ass for a head, I didn't care. King was perfect. And he loved me. And I loved him.
Suddenly, King leaned forward again, fetched a wet wipe from somewhere next to the camera, wiped the sperm from his hand with it and the buzzing in the speakers stopped and he picked up the phone again. A "King_size94 types..." appeared at the bottom of the screen.
Nervously, I pulled the dildo out of me, put the damp piece on the cardboard box so that I wouldn't mess up the carpet, and straightened my thong. I invested an unnecessary amount of time to pluck my dress and crawl forward a bit on my knees. Nevertheless, I sat motionless, silent and tormented for two minutes, waiting until his message finally appeared. I began to read and noticed out of the corner of my eye how he closed his pants, put his forearms on the armrests and folded his hands with the smartphone between his fingers. [I'm sorry, I let the moment guide me.] My heart slipped into my thong and my mind would refuse to read the rest for fear that he would take back his declaration of love and want to end this thing we had and block me and then delete his profile and move away from Kyoto and– I forced myself to let my eyes wander over his well-chosen lines. [I didn't really want you to hear my voice, because that's too big of a step in a direction that I long for, but that I'm also afraid of. It was too much too quickly and I don't want to give you hope that this will be the case all the time in the future. I'm not ready for that yet. I don't want to hurt you, Buttercup, believe me, you're too important to me, but it went too fast for me and I regret it. In my eyes, our relationship is not yet mature enough for that. Do you forgive me?]
My mouth opened a crack and I stared incessantly at a word in the penultimate line. So.. Did he mean something like.. "King.. Would you like to be in a relationship with me?"
Again, his hand disappeared at the top of the camera angle, his left thumb briefly slid over his phone and an unequivocal [Yes.] appeared under the long text from before.
I smiled softly and had trouble suppressing new tears of joy. "I want that too. I meant what I just said, King. I love you, for quite a while now."
[I was also serious. You are a wonderful person, Buttercup, and I see myself by your side in my future. But not yet, there's just too much going on in my life for that. Do you understand that?]
I nodded stormily. "Yes. I hope you can tell me someday what it is that bothers you so much."
[I will one day, I promise you.]
I looked at the clock in the bottom right corner of the screen. It was shortly after nine. "We have to stop."
[I'm afraid too. Will you be online tomorrow?]
"I think so, but just write to me, we'll get each other someday."
A jolt went through his chest, and he typed goodbye: [Of course. Sleep well, Buttercup * We read each other.]
I smiled, nodded, said: "Yes, you too.", he leaned forward and the picture froze briefly before the connection was interrupted and only the nasty text "King_size94 has ended the broadcast" was shown to me. Shortly afterwards, the small, green dot on his profile picture disappeared, which showed a tight man's chest illuminated by violet light under a black shirt. Somewhat melancholy, I stroked it and the image was briefly distorted by the contact, so I let it be again. Where was this supposed to lead us? We were basically so close, figuratively and literally, and yet we weren't together, even though I wanted nothing in the world more than just that.
Sighing, I got up, took off my clothes, stowed them away together with laptop and dildo – good Lord, how do you clean such a thing? – and lay down on my futon in my pajamas after I had unlocked all the doors and got ready for bed. It didn't help after all. I had to let the future come to me, no matter how uncertain it seemed to me at the moment. I only hoped fervently that King would not withdraw from me, because otherwise—
No. I was not allowed to think of such a thing. He loved me. Grinning broadly, I pressed my face into the soft pillow. He loved me. Reading these words typed by his fingers was just the most beautiful thing ever. Nothing could kill this feeling in me, at least that's what I believed for a few hours.