Touch Type

My previous experience with dating apps had been interactions with one of two types of people; the first was like drawing blood from a stone, they didn’t ask questions and gave one-word answers to everything I asked. The second was the opposite; everything came too quickly, and there was hardly a ‘hello’ or ‘how are you’ before they wanted to exchange nudes. That didn’t really fit me either. I wasn’t necessarily uncomfortable sending more explicit material but I needed the connection, the desire and the tease first. 

Noah felt different. They made me laugh. We spoke about our lifetime dreams and our queer awakenings— mine watching Buffy, theirs seeing someone trans masc on Big Brother—no topic seemed off limits. Every time their name lit up my phone screen, a soppy smile took control of my lips. 

When they finally asked to meet up in person, I was nervous (first dates always have that effect on me) but I was undeniably excited. So, with a shot (literally) of Dutch courage, I joined them in one of the bars in the Gay Village. They had chosen well, it was one of the quieter bars, where the music wasn’t too loud mid-week, and though it was popular, it wasn’t overly crowded…so we could flirt in relative peace in one of the booths, tucked away in the back. 

I wondered whether the easy back and forth we had over messages would carry to in-person or whether my nerves would make the chat fall flat. But Noah had such an unwavering confidence that it was impossible not to get drawn into their ease. And they were good-looking, of course, with thick curly brown hair, deep hazel eyes, and muscles decorated in countless tattoos. 

But it was their confidence that was the most alluring thing about them; the way they took my hand without a word and guided me through the bar, and the way they spoke without stumbling over their words as I often did when nervous, made me feel instantly more at ease in their company. 

Even the way they leaned nonchalantly against the back of the booth, with one arm casually over its back, exuded confidence. And as a bonus, when they stretched their arm upwards, I couldn’t help but enjoy the way their shirt rode up, giving me a first peek at their smooth torso beneath. I had a surge of longing to run my fingers up their chest, and let them disappear beneath their shirt, possibly never to return. 

They made me laugh even more face-to-face, and they asked questions that opened deep conversations; “What are your top three songs, not just to listen to in the car or shower or whatever but the ones that mean something to you or remind you of people who are important to you?”

I pondered the question a moment before beginning my list. 

“Well… any George Michael song reminds me of my mum but Faith is my favourite of his. Ironically, Nelly Furtado’s Maneater was playing when my best friend came out to me so, that always makes me think of her…”

I thought a little longer about the third and final choice before adding: “And I had my first kiss to Avril Lavigne’s Complicated. “

They laughed and told me that their first kiss had been soundtracked by All Saints. My mind travelled to the fantasy of kissing Noah for the first time.

When they first brushed my thigh with their hand as we sat side-by-side in that booth, I felt a shudder of excitement race through me. I had no idea if they had done it by accident or on purpose but I didn’t care. All I knew was, I wanted them to do it again. 

And then, they finally kissed me, tilting my chin up to them with a finger, stroking my cheek lightly before moving their hands to circle the hairs at the nape of my neck. When they graciously walked me home, I melted into them at the feel of their hand resting against the small of my back, just inches from my ass. When they leaned in to whisper something intimate to me, and I felt the heat of their words and breath tickle my ear, I longed to feel that sensation all over my body. 

With every small touch and every date that followed, we became more and more connected. We clicked in the bars, cafes and restaurants, and later, in the bedroom. 

So, to say I was disappointed when they told me they were going away on a month-long work trip was perhaps an understatement. I told them, with just a small amount of embarrassment, that I would miss the way they made me feel in bed. I felt the heat rising in my chest just at the mere thought of those moments; my back arching, my hands clawing at their back as their body pressed against mine, their strap slipping rhythmically into me. 

“Is that all you’ll miss?” they joked, making me blush.

~~~

It was Noah’s idea to keep the fire blazing in their absence so, we agreed to go long-distance digital. We had previously exchanged the odd flirty message between dates and hook-ups, mostly them telling me how they wanted to touch me next time, but in-depth sexting wasn’t in my wheelhouse. With Noah, I suddenly felt open to getting more practice in though. Something about the way they led things in person told me that they would also lead well when it came to dirty messages in the online world. 

They already knew I liked to hand over control to them, we had spoken extensively about our turn ons and boundaries, so, when they messaged me on their first night away, ‘Has my naughty toy been behaving herself?’ I was not surprised. In fact, I felt a jolt of excitement, knowing exactly where this could go. 

‘Yes sir,’ I responded, accompanying my words with a photo: on my knees in bed, facing the long mirror on the front of the wardrobe. With one hand, I had held the camera while with the other, I lifted the tank top I was wearing so that it no longer hung just past my ass but instead revealed the lacy pink knickers and matching bra beneath. I knew that if Noah looked close enough, they would be able to see my nipples pressing against the lace. 

Though I was already horny and ached to touch myself, I knew it would be even better with them. Squirming with anticipation, I awaited further instructions. 

“Good Girl, my t-dick is already hard and throbbing thinking of you,” they replied and I felt myself throb, too.

The messages kept coming in as they instructed me first to strip down to just my knickers, soft cotton with lace details, through which you could see a suggestion of what lay beneath. They had been chosen specifically for these purposes. 

Next, they told me to begin by gently stroking my bare thighs, something they knew to be one of my greatest pleasures. As I obeyed, I imagined their soft fingertips on my inner thighs, creeping higher and higher, almost reaching between my legs but then stopping again and making the descent back down my thighs. I remembered the feeling of their fingernails dragging along my soft flesh and mimicked their past movements.

With one hand remaining on my thighs, they commanded my other hand to turn its attention to my hard, sensitive nipples. The phone screen glowed in front of me as I read the message and followed their words.

‘Lick the tips of your fingers and use them to tease your nipples. I want you to stroke, circle, pinch and tease them until you’re whimpering.’

In a moment of boldness, I sent them back a voice note, capturing my moans as I played with my nipples and thighs. 

Finally, they directed me to touch the soft material of my underwear. I rubbed gently at first and then with more pressure, enjoying the sensation of the fabric brushing against my increasingly sensitive clit. Even from hundreds of miles away, they seemed to know exactly how to tease my shuddering body. 

I could feel how wet I was getting for them through the material already, and I told them as much.

‘I wish I could feel your wetness against mine’, they typed back. I thought back to grinding against them the week prior, and throbbed again at the image of us tribbing. Despite being an out-and-proud Bi woman for quite some time, this was my first relationship with a trans masc person and so far, the sex was incredible. 

I let out an involuntary moan as I typed out a message asking for permission to remove my now-soaked underwear. 

‘Of course. Good toy for asking,’ they responded. ‘Especially when I’m not there to punish you for any indiscretions.’ The message was followed by a suggestive winking emoji. 

I blushed at the memory of being bent over their knee, my underwear around my ankles, my ass bare and my pussy growing increasingly aroused with each spank they landed on my behind. They had taken a photo of the tender pinkness of it and they sent it to me now, as a reminder.

I slipped out of my underwear, leaving them in a heap on the floor before sending them another photo in response. 

‘Spread your legs wider like the slut you want to be,’ came their response. ‘I want to see exactly how wet you are.’

I blushed deeper, even though I was alone and no one but the two of us knew how much those words turned me on. Obeying, I snapped another photo, and they returned an almost matching image in response.

‘Tease that needy hole,’ they instructed and I obeyed again. Circling my pulsing vaj, my fingers were coated in my arousal, until their next command came:

They instructed me to slide one finger and then a second deep and slow inside, telling me to imagine it was their fingers curling against my g-spot. 

‘Use your thumb to tease your clit like a good girl,’ they added.

I moaned again as I obeyed, struggling to type out a message telling them that I was growing close to climax.

‘Don’t cum until I tell you to,’ they responded. 

I continued to finger myself, building to the edge before bringing myself back from the peak several times, and each time I did, I told them.

‘You want to cum for sir now?’ they asked, rewarding me with another photo of them, laying naked and spread across their hotel room bed. 

‘Please sir,’ I typed back. My pussy still pulsing from the latest edge I had built up to.

‘How do you feel about me video calling?’ 

We had discussed the idea as a possibility prior to the trip, and I had confessed that I was aroused by the thought of them watching me touch myself. I liked the message in response and in a matter of seconds the video call was coming through.

I answered, and allowed them to take in my whole body in video form before propping the phone between my legs so they would have a good view. Their voice this time, rather than their messages, guided my hands back to my wet pussy.

“Fuck yourself hard for me like a good girl,” they commanded.

I moaned louder and longer as I enacted both our horny wishes, fingering myself eagerly again, my thumb still working against my clit. When I could wait no longer, I begged for release and they granted it.

‘Cum for me,” they said, and I did, shuddering and moaning with pleasure and ecstasy. 

Bringing the phone up to my face I said, “That was incredible, thank you. I can’t wait to do that again in person soon.”

“Well we still have a month of naughty nights to fill yet.” They laughed, “and I have some more ideas.”

I felt another surge of arousal build. If that was only the beginning of their ideas, I couldn’t begin to imagine how else they might pleasure me.