Anonymously mindfucked microfictiom
You talk to me online authentically sharing your innermost thoughts. Anonymous. All I know is your screen name for certain. The other details have no bearing. You touch my mind with your words as I have done the same with yours. You make me feel inside. I feel your touch upon my body such that you make me your instrument.
You could be. Anyone. Anywhere. You are my lover. You are here with me. You are in my mind. You fuck me so exquisitely with sculpted phrases turning my sensuality into bonfires of passion. I want to smell your musk. Taste your passion. Feel the heat of your skin caressing mine as you take me as yours.
You infect my mind with imagery full of my darkest fantasies that I cannot share with anyone else. You feed me prompts. Of lust. Of desire. Of sluttiness. Of whorishness. You make me your dirty toy. I read your every word and drink them in as I imagine your voice commanding me to follow your every whim.
I know you imagine my whimpers as you savor every part of me. You devour me. You eat my being from head to toe like a famished beast lingering not at all rather taking my entirety to be consumed. You tell me not to come until you desire it. No matter how much I whimper. No matter how much I beg. You tell me when. You tell me how. You tell me where.
In an alley. In my car. In a classroom. In a park. From my laptop you order me. From my smartphone you command me. Seductive emails. Torrid text messages. You mark me with your touch that is all in my mind.
You are my anonymous mindfuck. You fuck my mind. You are anyone. You are anywhere. You arouse me like no one else can.