Girl on the Net

The other night, I missed the moment he came. It wasn’t the end of the world, naturally – I miss plenty of his orgasms, because most of them happen when he’s alone. The spaff goes unobserved, as he beats it into a tissue or one of the wank rags I bought for ecological reasons (and also pervy reasons – we’ll get to this in a second). But on this particular occasion, I was a bit sad about missing his cum shot. So he invented a new game for me to play: CSI: Wank.

It’s important to note here that I wasn’t sad about missing his jizz because I am somehow possessive of it. It’s more just that I knew it would be an especially good load, because we’d spent a lot of time on his dick. After an evening of some pretty impressive and out-of-character dominance from me (who tries, and repeatedly fails, to ‘be more domme‘ because I know he likes it when I lean into a bit of teasing), he was nevertheless struggling to get to the finish line. And the more he struggles beforehand, the bigger and more powerful his eventual spurts will be.

I’d thrown a few of my best tricks at him, and still nothing was happening. His dick was so hard it felt like it must ache to the touch, and every time I slipped my lips around it or touched it even lightly with the tips of my fingers, it would twitch like it was milliseconds away from starting to spray cum. But still… nothing. I sat on the floor, retreating a little to let him take over. He lined up a few favourite videos on the TV and worked away at his prick like he was mixing cocktails, with a look of dark intensity and desperate agony on his face: lovely. But still nothing was happening.

I figured that the presence of an audience might be part of the problem, so I kissed him goodnight then slipped out of the room and went to bed, leaving him to sort himself out. It worked, which is good, but it meant I missed his cum shot, which made me a little bit sad. Luckily for me, he is a generous individual, especially when it comes to letting me revel in my fetish for watching him wank.

Me: You know how yesterday evening I missed out on watching you coming? How about at some point today, when you’re in the mood, you tell me exactly how it went down so I can picture it in my filthy head?

Him: I can do better than that – I’ll recreate it for you.

Me: While you watch the exact porn you were watching at the time?

Him: Again, I can do better than that – it was VR porn so all you need to do is pick up the headset and put it on, and the video will still be lined up. To the exact part I was watching when I came all over myself.

Me: Like ‘here is the moment in the porn which triggered your own cum shot’?

Him: Yep. I like how you have basically become a wank detective – piecing together the clues which will tell you how and when and where I spaffed.

Me: I already do that a bit – when I find a wank rag by the sofa in the morning and I get horny knowing you totally jizzed the night before…

Him: Inspecting the splatter patterns on the walls and the carpet…?

Me: CSI: Wank.

Later that day, he made good on his promise – passing me the VR headset and a controller so I could immerse myself in the scene he’d been watching (incidentally, if you want to try this for yourself my site sponsor Sex Tech Guide has a tonne of info on VR porn here). I rewound the scene by a couple of minutes – to more fully enjoy the part he clearly perceived as the hottest – and settled down. I won’t go into detail, because he watched it on his own so it’s private, but suffice to say I could definitely understand why he found it so hot, and if I’d had a dick that would almost certainly have been the moment I let rip and spilt jizz as well.

I’m not sure why I’m telling you this story. There’s a part of me that wants to put it out there because I see too many articles and posts about the idea of someone ‘catching’ their partner wanking and berating them or feeling hollow and sad, so I thought it’d be fun to chuck in yet another blog about how hard I get off on the thought of my other half beating one out, especially if I get to watch a seriously powerful cum shot. Another part of me is just struggling to write porn right now, so this felt like a ‘good enough’ story. Or maybe the only reason this story made it out of my life and onto these pages was because my generous, weird, sexy, wank-happy other half gave me the perfect line on which to end it.

*after I’ve watched the relevant part of the scene, and then handed him the headset so he can ‘remind himself’ of it while touching his cock, and then some more sex happened*

Me: Thank you for sharing that with me, it was intensely filth and I love you for letting me play CSI: Wank with you.

Him: *puts on voice of Superintendent in police TV drama*

Your methods are certainly unusual, but dammit you get results!