I’d turn it on when I really, really had to.

I still had half a porn script to write, thank you very much.

ME: I push you onto the bed and you sit on the end. I kneel in front of you and put your cock in my mouth again. You moan and grab my hair again, and you fuck my mouth. I pull back and circle the tip of your cock with my tongue.

Shit. How else did you describe a blow job?

ME: I suck on the very end of your cock, pressing my tongue against the tip. It’s too much for you and you grab my upper arms, pulling me on top of you. I straddle you, putting my knees on either side of your hips, and rub my wet pussy against your hard cock.

I reached down between my legs and pushed the little button on the end of the bullet. It buzzed to life, and after a second of adjustment, I closed my legs to hold it in place and tapped once again at the screen for what I hoped would be the grand finale.

ME: I move so I can reach between us and grab your cock. I position it so it’s in the right place, rubbing against my wetness, and I push down until you’re fully inside me. You lie down, and I rock my hips against you. You slide your hands over my body until you can grab my ass, and I ride you hard.

ME: I lean forward so my hands are on either side of your head and fuck you, then you grip me tighter and hold my hips in place. You move your hips and fuck me hard, burying your cock inside me with every thrust. I moan into your ear and into your mouth, and then I come, clenching down tightly around your cock.

Fuck.

I reached down and moved the bullet so the very end was on my clit, then closed my eyes for a second. Imagining the scene, I rubbed the bullet against my clit and came quickly, my legs spasming with the force of the little—but powerful—orgasm.

ME: You come hard inside me, groaning my name into my mouth, biting my lip. I collapse onto you, exhausted, and you push deeper inside me as you ride out your orgasm.

Was that it? Was it finished? I’d finished. Had he? Was it good for him? Was it anti-climactic?

I wasn’t exactly a soprano in the writing department. I could pour a mean beer and mix one hell of a margarita, but writing…

Not so much.

ME: Um… I think I’m done.

Should I have sent fireworks? Was that how one ended a sexting session? Should I have seen if there was an encore due?

I was woefully unprepared for this.

NN: You should watch porn more often. That was hot as fuck.

ME: If I were a man, I’d think ScarJo sucking my dick was hot too.