Jack’s Hunger: A Private Plea

The rain hammered against the windows of Jill’s small apartment, a relentless rhythm that mirrored the insistent ache in her chest. Jack was gone, swallowed by the demands of his work, a high-pressure investment firm in Chicago. It had been three weeks since he’d left, three weeks of empty space beside her in bed, of the ghost of his scent clinging to her pillow. He’d sent a picture, of course, a blatant, possessive act meant to bridge the distance. A stark, unapologetic display of his masculinity – a hard cock bathed in the harsh light of his phone screen. “Tell me what you would do with that cock,” the text had read, dripping with need and a barely concealed hunger. It wasn’t a request; it was a command. And Jill, despite the loneliness gnawing at her, couldn’t resist answering. She craved that deep connection, that primal intimacy, even if it meant submitting to his desire.

As she typed her response, her fingers trembled slightly, a mixture of anticipation and a strange, thrilling sense of control. She knew Jack intimately, every curve of his body, every pleasure point that made him moan. She’d built her desire around his touch, his scent, the feeling of him wrapped around her. The thought of him, miles away, yearning for her, fueled her response. It wasn't just about satisfying his physical needs; it was about reaffirming their bond, a desperate attempt to hold onto the feeling of being utterly and completely desired.

The words flowed out of her, a torrent of sensuality and dominance. She painted a vivid picture of her intentions, detailing every touch, every movement, every sensation she intended to elicit from him. It wasn’t just a description of physical acts; it was an invitation, a declaration of her own pleasure and her willingness to submit to his pleasure.

“First I would take one hand and, using just my soft fingertips, I would run up and down lightly, stroking, gently feeling the hardness and the bulging veins,” she wrote, her breath catching in her throat as she re-read the words. The image she’d conjured was both beautiful and brutal, a testament to her understanding of his desires. She could almost feel the delicate dance of her fingers across his skin, the slow, deliberate exploration that always brought him to the edge of ecstasy.

“Then my fingers would wrap around, grasping the shaft with a gentle squeeze,” she continued, her pulse quickening. The thought of her hand holding his, pulling him closer, felt potent and powerful. The slight pressure, the gentle restraint, would build anticipation, a delicious tease before the release. “Then I would take my tongue and slide it around the head—round and round for a while…” Her fingers traced the outline of her mouth, mimicking the sensation she described, a shiver running down her spine. The image of her tongue tracing the contours of his head, exploring every inch of its surface, ignited a fire within her.

“Next my tongue would slide down the shaft and back up a few times, then my whole mouth would take the head while my hand grasped the sack and gently squeezed,” she wrote, her voice barely a whisper. The idea of her lips enveloping his entire length, the complete immersion in his pleasure, was intoxicating. The gentle squeeze of her hand against his prostate, a controlled pressure that would build and build until he surrendered completely. She imagined the warm, slick feel of his fluid, the taste of it coating her tongue, a symphony of sensations that would leave her breathless.

“My mouth would go deeper and my hand would explore the taint,” she added, her heart pounding in her chest. The exploration of his most sensitive area, a slow, deliberate dance of pleasure and submission, felt both daring and deeply fulfilling. She envisioned her hand gliding along the folds of his perineum, teasing and caressing, while her mouth plunged deeper into his flesh, seeking the ultimate release.

“My finger slides in the ass while I grasp the shaft to get better control, and continue with my mouth with more of a thrusting motion,” she continued, pushing past any lingering hesitation. The combination of oral and anal play was a potent mix, a primal ritual that would leave her both exhausted and exhilarated. The sensation of her finger entering his anus, the feeling of resistance, the anticipation of the pressure building within him, was intensely stimulating. Simultaneously, her mouth would thrust rhythmically against his head, creating a powerful, synchronized rhythm of pleasure.

“I can feel—and hear—the response,” she wrote, her breath coming in ragged gasps. The moans, the hip thrusts, the gush of cum erupting from his body – it was all there, a testament to his intense pleasure. The sound of his release, the physical evidence of his surrender, sent shivers down her spine.

“Suddenly there is moaning and hip movement and a gush of cum fills my mouth and goes down my throat in waves,” she typed, unable to articulate the sheer intensity of the experience. It wasn't just a physical sensation; it was an emotional release, a complete emptying of her own inhibitions. She was lost in the moment, consumed by the pleasure of his pleasure.

“My finger slowly slides out of the ass as I slurp and lick up the cum that spilled during the explosion,” she wrote, savoring the lingering taste of his fluid on her lips. The act of cleaning up after the release, licking away every last drop, felt both intimate and satisfying. It was a final, lingering embrace of his essence, a silent promise to always cherish his touch.

“The cock is happy. I am happy,” she concluded, her fingers shaking with residual excitement. The image of his fully erect member, dripping with cum, was both a source of pride and a reminder of his absence. Yet, even in his absence, she felt connected to him, united by their shared pleasure and their enduring desire. The rain continued to fall, but it no longer seemed like a lament. Instead, it felt like a cleansing, a washing away of loneliness and longing, replaced by a renewed sense of intimacy and connection. Jack might be miles away, but tonight, through the words she’d written, he was right here with her, lost in the depths of her pleasure, their bodies intertwined in a shared experience of ecstasy.

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