Summer heat transcript

Today it is far too warm. I'm inside, obviously. But it's a particularly... delightful day. The sun is out. It's, though, rather unpleasantly sticky. My windows are closed so you don't hear anything distracting from outside, and that means that I am too warm. Maybe you can tell, maybe I'm a little flushed. A little sweaty. Maybe you can tell by, well, how little I'm wearing. But it's too warm. Maybe you know it, that warmth that saps your energy. A warmth that makes you feel, in turn, sticky, and slow and relaxed, a heat that rises through you. Maybe you're starting to feel it now. How it just makes you want to relax, makes you want to... lay back. What it does to me, this kind of heat, what I long for, is just a nice, relaxed time with a pretty toy. Trailing my fingers over sweaty skin, teasing and using that indolence, that... delightful surrender to the heat... against them. It's so hard to fight, isn't it, when your body is just so aware... of how little it wants to do anything. So aware of how much it wants to relax and sink. You can feel it now, can't you, that slow, muggy heaviness that comes over your muscles right now, that comes over your mind, that draws you down. You feeling sticky and warm. Imagining my fingers trailing over your skin, peeling you out of your clothes, because... it's too warm for those. I'm almost too warm for this. So peeling you out of them, exposing you, my fingers trailing across your skin. Gentle... teasing... because it's too hot. It's too warm for anything intense, too warm for anything elaborate. It's too warm... for me to do anything to you that's more than gentle teasing. Gentle... effective... teasing, right? Because of course... it would be effective, wouldn't it, my trailing fingers trailing that heat over you, teasing that heat into you. Imagining now how it would be to find yourself just... losing yourself in my touch, your body... sapped of its energy and laying there, my touch making your heart pick up, making you feel maybe even warmer, and yet you wouldn't want it to stop, would you? So remove any last bits of clothing. Maybe it's too warm even for you to be able to keep your legs together. It's just asking for you to be sweating. You spread out as much as you can, increase that surface area, and that just increases how much access I have, how easily I can toy with you. Imagine my fingers trailing down between your legs, that wet heat rising, and sapping you further. Imagine how that would feel that lazy... warm... time... that heat from without and within, the heat of the air, the heat of my words, the heat of your body... all working... working to melt you down and away. Can you imagine that? Maybe touch now. Touch now, and... feel just a little of that... warmth that I'm feeling now. Join me in this. Indulge with me. In this indolent pleasure, this delightful, wonderful thing that is relaxing in the heat. Warm bodies against each other. Feeling my fingers on you, feeling my body pressing against yours as I toy with you and tease you as you lay there, and I press against your side with my fingers trailing up between your legs as your fingers are doing now, as I touch you and tease you and I draw out the most delicious noises from you. Just the perfect thing for a warm day when working is too much. When doing anything stressful or complicated is too hard for that fuzzy head. When you just want to get lost in my words, get lost in my voice, get lost... in pleasing me, my good, good toy. That's right. How good is it going to feel, as you touch now, are you starting to feel that heat? How good is it going to feel, when my fingers start to drive all of the thoughts from your mind? Oh, but they've been gone for a while, haven't they? Too lost in the pictures I'm painting, too lost in how good it feels to touch, too lost in how good it feels to feel my fingers trailing up and over your body, drawing that heat through you. I... am too warm. So let me give some of that to you. Let me infect you with it. Let your body roil with that... delightful sensation of need that's filling you. That heat just burning and growing and intensifying, making you feel better and better, my good toy. Growing through you. Making you feel so... good. There's a good... a good thing, a good... pleasing thing for me. That's right. That heat sapping and melting and growing and making you feel better and better as you touch. Maybe, though, you find even though you're too warm, too... touching is good, that pleasure is good, it feels right when you're in this state, but... wouldn't it be too much effort to cum, to go too far? Finding your body just not wanting to. The heat feels good. The pleasure feels good, but pushing further would be too much. I know I'd feel that, as my fingers trailed over your body I'd delight in teasing you with my fingers, with... touching you in those ways that feel so good, but slowly, lazily toying with you. I don't need to get you anywhere. How wonderful would it be to pass the afternoon away, the warmth of the day, with you just aching, leaking, dripping, whimpering and moaning for me. That sounds to me like exactly what should be happening on a day like this. You should be whimpering at my side, moaning as I fuck you up, squirming in helplessness. Such a good toy you are melting so well for me. Thinking about how it would feel to have my fingers on you like that, to be spread at my mercy, to know that there's nothing we need to do, that it's too hot for anything else, that you're just going to melt for me. Melt... in my touch and let my touch melt you. To spend hours idly dripping away the afternoon. My words sneaking into your mind, slipping past your consciousness and you don't even care. You don't have the energy to. It's too hot. And the pleasure feels so good. So good. And so you go nowhere. You melt for me. You give me what I want, what I demand. Because you're a good toy. And good toys give me what I want. And what I want is you to melt. What I want is for you to feel as warm as I do. For me to be able to draw out those whimpers as your fingers are drawing them out of you now. Pausing only to give you water, from all the sweating and dripping you'll be doing. So we can continue. It's too hot. It's too hot to resist. It's too hot to calm. It's too hot to do anything but surrender to my touch. To lose yourself in my words. And to feel the pleasure, the arousal, the need and the devotion that an afternoon of my... using, of my control, of... being a useful distraction, a pleasing thing for me... would bring. Feeling that now as your fingers trace those words into your so sensitive skin. Feeling that for me now as you melt once more. All the pleasure of that time. Of what could be. All the pleasure of my form. All the pleasure of my touch. All the pleasure of my voice. All the pleasure of an afternoon spent lost in that. Good. And paying me in your pleasure. In your moans, in your whimpers. And in your obedience. Because it's too hot. It's too warm. It's too difficult... to fight. To resist. So you don't. But in a minute... well, the evening will come. Warm sticky lethargy will be banished by the pleasure of an evening breeze over your skin through the windows. And that's what it will feel like as I count you up, allowing you to re... to return from that lethargy. From that wonderful, indolent haze. To return to awareness, to alertness, to... a cooling self. That pleasure nicely lost within you. And coming back to yourself, feeling that breeze over your skin as you return in five, four, three, two, and one. My good toy. Such a pleasing thing you have been, on this hot and sticky day.