My evening started out rather normally, as it usually does when boyfriend is out. He goes out two evenings a week to work. It's when I take some time to treat myself to some attention. Yesterday though I decided to do a little dressing up. It always gets me hot. I carefully chose my clothing. A very short mini tweed plaid skirt, a pair of small weave brown fishnet nylons and a cropped hoodie, a pair of brown leather strappy heels and I painted my face in the war paint that makes me wet. I opted for no panties under the nylons. I wanted to see what it would feel like. I'd never worn nylons without panties before, let alone fishnets.
I started with mascara, black eyeliner, coal grey shadow on the outer edges of the eye and a silvery grey on the inside. smoking it around the edges. A little light pink lip liner and a bit of lip balm to moisten and then lip gloss for some shine on top.
I set the computer up on the foot rest in the living room. Covered the couch and armchair that I have in the background so it wouldn't be recognisable, and set up my reading lamp to add that extra bit of lighting you can't get from just overhead lights.
I adjusted the computer settings for voice recognition and my photo program with my built in webcam and started to pose. I love to see myself on camera. Especially when I don't look myself, when I have clothes on that aren't mine, or that don't seem mine. They belong to the slut inside me.
I turn to look at the nylons, the curve of my ass appearing below the hem of the skirt that is obviously too short, look at the small of my back, the bare skin that covers my spine, and the unnatural arch of my neck looking back at myself. The sight of the skirt just barely covering my ass, and the sharp heels of my leather sandals contrasting the curve of my thighs, just turned me on so much I had to touch. I had to slide my hand down from the waist of the skirt to the hem. watching the skirt and the slight dip in the centre that the crack between my cheeks produced. I slid my hand down past all of that to the very wet warm spot between my legs.
Seeing myself on camera helps me understand what guys see when I chat on skype, when I strip when I play. It's an incredibly rewarding sensation. Seeing myself, playing with myself helps me understand how the guy feels when he looks at me. I'm thinking that maybe it's not the sight of myself that turns me on, but the idea of what a guy feels when he sees me that turns me on more. I think that's it. It's the male perspective that really gets me hot. Imagining the thoughts that run through his head, what he'd possibly like to do to me that really gets me wet.
Then there's another position, another glimpse of what is but isn't me, another sight of a fine net covering that increasingly wet space between my legs, more fluid, wetter, and better.
The feeling of my hand over the net, feeling the net between my hand and my pleasure, not letting me through enough, but letting me through just enough. Feeling the wetness spread making everything slick, slip and slide.
Imagining him watching me. Imagining him imagining me in different positions in different situations. Would he have me bend over? Would he have me suck? Would he tie me up? Would he touch or tease? Would he just fuck me or would he take his time and savour me first?
The imagination is the most amazing resource for sexual drive. No porn can substitute that.