Not saying girl
Ladies and gentleman this is Mambo No. 6.
It is late at night and the shadows are dispelled only by the flickering light of a single red candle wich makes my shadow stand out sharply on the wall. One, two, three,four, five... so many people are encaptured in the deep recesses of my hard drive. So many strangers to choose from, so many sneezes, each one more delicious than the last.
Discovering these web sites has to be the best thing that has happened to me in a long time. I went a little bit wild when I found them, jumping from one to the other, reading, seeing, listening... but the listening part is my favourite. My favourite wav.'s I have listened to so often that they have become like songs which I know by heart and can sing to myself when I am alone. I do that often when I know the melody and the lyrics. I am in my car sometimes, going somewhere and my lips move silently. Strangers sometimes wonder what that crazy woman is doing talking to herself.
If I close my eyes now, in the quiet darkness, I can picture it in my mind's eye. Let's ride to the liquor-store around the corner. The boys say they want some gin and juice. But I really don't want a beerbust like I had last week. I picture myself driving to the local Alko store and having trouble concentrating. Thoughts of Jason, Mark, Josh, Ken and Rob slip in almost without my knowing, furtive lovers caressing my inner ear. I can hear them in my mind, needing to sneeze and I feel heat rising to my cheeks. I shouldn't do this when I'm driving. I must stay deep because talk is cheap; what would people think if I had an accident? They would ask me why, and of course, I couldn't tell them.
I like Mickey, Scott, Sam and Rogan. I don't know them, but I feel like I am a little bit in love with all of them. Individually, collectively or partially; it's hard to fathom, to tell the truth. Their voices are pleasant and their sneezes make me tingle like a series of electric shocks when I hear them and am in that kind of mood. Come to think of it, they make me quiver even when I'm not sometimes.
And as I continue, you know, they are getting sweeter. I wonder about this interest of mine at times, this mental/sexual superdrug, when it is late at night and I am alone in my bed with these voices playing besides me. It feels like all I have are ghosts of people who are still alive and yet are dust to me because I will never see them, touch them or feel their spray on my body. I lie there in the dark, burning with desire, a fire between my legs which I can only fan with my fingers.
So what can I do. I really beg you my Lord, don't let this go too far. The feelings these sneezes rouse are unbelievably intense. They are the best kind of foreplay I can imagine and yet, sometimes, I am scared of becoming dependant. What will happen when I am with a man and there is no sneezing involved? Will I be able to reach high peaks through his efforts alone, or will I need to commit mental adultery by bringing my .wav-lovers into it? To me, flirting, it's just like sport, anything fly. It's all good. Let me dump it, please set in the trumpet. I don't want to be hooked but I feel like I can't help myself at times. Times like these, to be exact. I am lying on my bed and just thinking about what I am about to do makes my breath come faster and the blood rush down there.
Whom shall I choose. So many are there, pixels on the screen, names of unknown men who all have the same surname: ".wav". In some crazy way, it makes me wonder if they are all related. Am I commiting some kind of digitalized incest, deriving pleasure from men who seem to be so similar and so different, collected by me because I am attracted to the way they sneeze? It's not much to go on but in this case, it's all I have.I line them up like a dj does with a musical program for the radio. Who will be first, the one to deal with foreplay? Who will escort me through the soaring climax which lies ahead? Who will tide me through the excrutiating buildup as I feel the back of my knees getting wet and the muscles of my thighs clenching and unclenching as my slender fingers work their magic on my labia, my clitoris and my velvet opening? Whom will I enjoy? Whom will I need? Whom will I choose?
A little bit
of Theodore in my life
Mambo No. 6 - let the fun begin.
Jump up and down onto the bed, go, preparing to move it all around. I shake my head to the sounds, and put my hand on the promised ground. Move one finger left and another right. One to the front and one to the side. Brush my breasts once and breath softly twice. And if it looks like this, then you are doing it right.
There is no one around and I like it that way. In the intimate candle-lit darkness, I can let my thoughts and fingers run wild as their sneezes fill the room. They are dancing with me, my unknown partners, suffering from colds, allergies or just a rather tickly nose. Some of their sneezes are fast and some are slow. Some are high, some are low. In all of them, however, is an element I crave and which makes me arch my back involuntarily. I can't quite put my finger on it, whether it is the raw power of them, the uncontrolled release of energy or the touch of desperation at the culmination of a fit. All I know is that they are getting me hot and it is delicious.
There is a slippery film between my fingers as I slide them around the gorged mound of my clitoris. It is still early and I avoid direct contact. That would be too intense for comfort just now, but I can feel this will soon change. Sneeze after sneeze, fit after fit, I can feel my pleasure becoming more intense. I close my eyes tightly and I can see their pale faces as they struggle, trapped and exquisite, sneezing over and over again just for me. I insert a finger gently, almost tentatively, inside the secret, moist darkness where I know a man should be. It feels delicious and my back arches again. I moan softly, unable to help myself. I can hear one of my .wav men, sneezing for me, urging me on, sweet music to my ears.
A little bit
of Jeremy in my life
Mambo No.6 - It's speeding up now.
Wave after wave of sneezes crash upon my eardrums, sensuous tiltillation. There is an eager thrumming between my thighs and I know it won't be too long before I climax. My eyes are still shut as I listen to the voices floating around me, announcing their need to sneeze, then doing it, lovers talking dirty to me even though they don't know it. Sometimes when I am doing this, I wonder if these men know about women like me, what we are thinking of, what they do to us. I wonder if they would like to know or if the intensity of it would scare them. Is it possible to develop fear of commitment through the Internet? Of course, that is not an option. Their sneezes are hostages held on hard drives all over the world by now and there is nothing they can do to stop it.
These thoughts race through my mind bullet fast. They are here with me and they are not, they are making mental love to me and they are not. I'm not sure I would really want them to most of the time, to tell the truth, but at the moment, if one of them materialized before me...
The activity is becoming more intense. My fingers are dancing with incredible speed and agility on my moist sex and my thighs are contracting almost spasmodically. My back is arched and I can feel a sheen of sweat on my body. My lips are slightly open and my breathing is harsh and irregular. My eyes are slitted and I can see my chest rising and falling. And still, they continue to tease me, desperately, thunderously, deliciously sneezing. I know I can't take much more of this - it will be an explosive climax
A little bit
of Ross in my life
Sweet bliss overtakes me. My whole body stiffens as I pause, the faintest movement of my fingers helping to prolong the joy of it as my .wav men sneeze me over the edge. The pleasurable spasms go on and on and I moan, a low sound of pure animalistic pleasure. I am suspended in a void for an eternity, my body ecstatic, my muscles tense. Then, as the orgasm begins to fade, I collapse onto the bed, a damp, relaxed, contented mess.
I close my eyes, revelling in the incredible satisfaction I've just enjoyed. The wav.s still echo in the background, lovers' whispers, sneezing sweet insignificant nothings to me. How considerate of them. I reach over and flip the computer off; I was never one for small talk after such an experience.
I close my eyes again and relax onto the bed. I do all to fall in love with a man like you. Where are they hiding, those elusive men who wield so much power over me? I am surrounded by them and yet I can't see them. I know it is the same for them, and the futility of it all sometimes overwhelms me.
You can't run and you can't hide. I know there is a man out there who can eclipse all of my sneezy ghosts. And when we meet, you and me, we're going to touch the sky.