When Dick Pics Are Awesome

(An artistic dick pic from a now sadly defunct Tumblr)

I've never been a fan of dick pics, until this one day...

I wake up in the morning, stretch, check my phone, and there it is. His text. A very short one; literally 2 characters. An eggplant, and a question mark.

I giggle and sent a text back.

You have blanket permission to send dick pics, my dear.

We are new to each other, still exploring and sharing the nooks and crannies of our desires and our bodies. We shared one very enjoyable play session, and then fate intervened; COVID-19.

I had so many plans! I still have them, simmering there on the back burner. But calls, texts and video chats are all we have right now, until it feels safe to get together again. And there is so much uncertainty about when that will be, which is even more frustrating. Plans, man. I want to nail this guy to my mattress…repeatedly.

How did we meet?

His sharp mind made me take a first look. A finely crafted body will attract my attention, but without brains, I get bored. I like a partner who will challenge me, outsmart me once in a while, make me feel like I could learn from him and grow with him. Intelligence in a guy is like a delicious chocolate cake, offering a good foundation. The frosting matters less, because even the best frosting can’t hide a bad cake.

After that first look, we had a few interactions online that showed me his kind heart. Smarts and depth? That’s like frosting the cake with homemade buttercream frosting, soft and sweet between the layers. Rare to find.

Now I was paying attention, but really had no agenda. Time went by. We crossed paths occasionally online. He lived a tad too far away for me to full-on pursue him.

One day he sends me a message about how he started taking pole dance lessons. …Seriously? That sounded awesome, and I told him so. He offered to send me a short video clip. I watched it, and was charmed. The lighting wasn’t that good and I couldn’t see his face clearly, but the whole thing was…charming. The vulnerability of his willingness to share his slightly awkward playfulness with me hit home.

I asked him out to dinner.

When he sat down at my table, I was a little stunned. He was so pretty. I wasn’t expecting that. I’d seen a fine body pic he posted, but he had no face pics. I didn’t need one to ask him out to dinner; brains, depth and a nice body were enough. His prettiness was definitely a surprise. So now there was this delicious cake, with sweet frosting inside, and dazzling sprinkles on top. Yum.

Dinner was nice. We talked, it felt good. Things progressed. Another dinner. Then we played…once.

And now all of our connections are virtual.

So he sends me the eggplant with a question mark. He asked my permission to send a few dick pics before, so this is clearly shorthand. His pics are without fail artistically composed; angles, colors, and poses. No generic dick pics from this guy. He’d earned several compliments on previous pictures.

You have blanket permission to send dick pics, my dear. I send my text.

He delights in my letting go of the reins and declares a 24 hour Dick Le Mans race, with 24 artistic dick pics in 24 hours! I am so on board with that idea, and tell him. The sadistic part of me immediately considers what a tease it will be for him to get hard for every pic, 24 times, and he sends another text.

Obviously they shouldn’t all be erect…

The ellipses indicate his statement is a disguised question, but I let him get away with it, and agree.

The pics begin arriving. A royal blue background. Hard and shiny with lube. Glistening with just a drop of pre-cum. Next to a big black dildo. Head peeking out from the foreskin. Hanging out of the top of some bright orange briefs. Naked and hard in all its glory. Erect, head covered up with foreskin. Poking out from a sexy pair of deep red, shiny undies (that one arrives just as I start to teach a webinar). Torso shot with t-shirt pulled up and undies pulled down, his dick hanging there. I never know what will arrive next! The pics are hot. They make me squirm. He’s pretty. All of him. Yum.

The effort he puts in trying to please me with these pics is endearing. The extra attention all day makes me smile and feel special. Dick pics have never made me so happy, which is a surprising realization.

The next day we text good morning. I ask him how he feels about being called ‘boy’, because words are important, and we are still learning about each other. He replies that it would feel good for me to call him ‘boy’.

Yes! We are on the same page in that regard, so I send another text.

You were a VERY good boy yesterday…❤️

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