Webcams

I was once called a Luddite because I had expressed sincere and heartfelt frustration at my computers inability to function in the expected way, mainly because it hadn't been serviced appropriately by the persons responsible for its upkeep -not me! Well, I take offence at being called a Luddite because I think I positively embrace technology. I revel in the delights that technology affords me in many aspects of my life. I have already mentioned the wonder, joy and sensual pleasure that I can get from advancements in photography and digital cameras. My photographs that I took the other day are extremely clear, and zooming in on my own body parts, being able to look the symmetrical patterns of my pussy, and knowing that others also delight in this vision, give me immense pleasure. But just for a short while, let us get away from sex, just for a short while. I also love the fact that I can use the computer to look up and research on moreorles anything that I choose. I adore the fact that you can go out, have an evening out or a conversation with a group of friends, and then you can return to the computer to review a fact, to find information about something etc. My mother had a line from a poem that she remembered. She couldn't remember which poem it had come from, and the context within which it was written. Within half an hour, we had found out who wrote it, where it was written, what the subject matter was, how it had come to her mind recently. Isn't that fantastic?

I love the personal nature of the internet. I love the fact that you can disappear into an imaginary world of your own choosing. I like following threads, starting with an innocent look for some factual information on wikipedia that takes you onto various links to further your own learning. I like taking information, thinking about what I have learned, seeing how it affects me, identifying how I might use that information to change the way I function or behave, the way I think. I like this tool as a means of embracing my learning, and of challenging my attitudes.

And there are certain technological advances that I embrace more than others. I love webcams. I really am fascinated by watching webcams of places where I have been, all over the world. I love the idea that I can be sitting in my lounge at the end of the day, putting my feet up and surfing the net, whilst over in the USA, people are beginning to gather at the bars where I have sipped some scrummy cocktails, where live music is beginning to play, and 4000+ miles away, I can revel in this strumming almost as though I am sitting there in the warm sunshine, relaxing with the natives, and generally chilling out. Obviously, it is not the same, and some might say what is so special about that? Surely, since the age of cinematography, we have been able to capture a moment and you can review it by watching television, videos etcetera. Well, you can, but I really gain pleasure from knowing that somewhere out there people are getting on with their lives and the images I have in front of me are in real time, their lives are functioning there and then. I can see people walking down the street, I can see them enjoying a social drink with one another. I can see people looking up in awe at the Eiffel Tower just as I may have done a few months previously. Wonderful. But of course, as Zenpuss writer, I am not a Luddite because I use all of the benefits to my own advantage and to enjoy specific sexual moments that without the aid of these great inventions, I could only imagine.

Am I a visual learner? Is my preferred mode of gaining information through the eye? Well, I am not sure. Depends on the time and circumstances. A telephone call with some arousing, carefully composed, lusty language has a significant arousing effect upon me. My pussy pops up, alive at the prospect of the insinuations that are flowing down the satellite telephony links. I have an instant urge to grab myself and familiarise myself with what moisture I know is growing inside my knickers. The audio is perfect. I don't need any visual stimulation to get me going. But when it is on offer, then the added bonus of the visual to accompany the great words, or indeed to muffled and sensual silence, is an absolute, total turn on, and I can be as horny as hell within a very short space of time. I am, of course, now talking about a more personal webcam. The one that I have, whereby I can be seen by the person who is on a video call with me.

Maybe I have always been a voyeurist! I like, as you know, to look at photos of sexy people, but this is a relatively new thing for me, and I would like to write more about how this has developed for me. Maybe I have always had a very sexual mind, that has had considerable periods of dormancy, so that now I have an opportunity to embrace it, I am somewhat impatient at wanting to use it to positive and rewarding effects. I say this because when I first got my webcam, I wasn't entirely sure to what purpose I was going to use the thing - a bit of a gimmick really, taking video shots of yourself sitting at the computer. Gee! So what! And then along came skype. It is wonderful to be able to talk to family and friends whilst watching them hundreds of miles away, sitting in their rooms, sipping cups of tea. It is bizarre and amusing to share visually with my family - looking at the gap in my niece's mouth, where she proudly shows her first tooth has fallen out, for me to look at the camera in a new outfit and ask, "Does my bum look big in this?" and for my sister or friend to give me an honest opinion. And whilst I was having these first experiences of webcam communication, there was a little devil of naughtiness sitting on my shoulder saying, "Hey girl, you know what else you could do with this, you horny beast you?"

Oh yes! I knew exactly what I could do with this. I knew exactly what I wanted to do with this. And it started quite innocently, seemingly, though I think I was very clear where the developments were going to take place.

I liked the fact that just because I couldn't drive around to a friend's house, there was still an opportunity for him to 'see' me, albeit through a slightly stilted visual link. We had communicated through Skype a couple of times, more than a couple, and I had explained that I had this webcam, that he could see me. And I had chatted with him, unable to see him, but he could have a look at me - not that this is particularly inspiring, but if he took some satisfaction at seeing my little face smiling at him, then that is positive. Having had a few conversations via this one sided video link, I took a step further. This sounds as though it was very contrived but it wasn't planned. It just happened naturally, in exactly the same way other elements of the friendship had developed.

I had been to work in a cream coloured top that, unbeknown to me, was quite transparent. I hadn't really checked what I looked like before I went out. Despite wanting to look presentable in life, I am not particularly vain, and don't tend to spend more than a fleeting glance at the mirror before I go out. So off I went to work, in this cream top, pleasantly attired and relatively confident. All day I wandered around the office, and nobody mentioned anything, or noticed anything untoward. Well, they possibly did notice but certaintly weren't going to draw attention to it. It was only when I got to the school playground to collect my child, when a friend suddenly screached at me, "Blimey, I can see right through that! You can see your nipples, you hussy!" And sure enough, as I looked down, there were two very distinctive, large and obvious round, dark circles where my nipples were revealing themselves to the world. So, as I returned home, I phoned my friend and recounted this story about what a naughty, sexy little beast I was that I was apparently compelled to go out into work with the centre of my tits on display. As we were talking, I switched on the camera to show him my t-shirt and the dark circles within. Yes, he said, you can certainly see the nipples. Maybe it is a 'problem' with the bra you are wearing. Maybe that is too transparent. And so the conversation continued. Maybe my friend would like to see the bra I had on and judge for himself whether that was the issue. So I removed my shirt to reveal my bra, in all its transparent glory. Yes, he could see quite clearly that my nipples would indeed show through that material. Infact, he could see quite clearly that my boobs were very much encased in the aforementioned bra, and that my nipples, dark, wide and distinctly energised, were possibly protruding further as we spoke. Maybe my nipples needed a bit of a release after a long, arduous day stuck in the office. Of course they needed release. So I suggested that maybe I could just undo my bra for a while, or maybe I could lift my chunky, voluptuous left tit out of its cage. There! Can you see that, can you remember what it looked like? Did it give you an instant hard on? Did you quickly shove your hands down your trousers to feel your cock growing in your hands? I went on. I took my bra off and clutched my breasts together and leant towards the camera, so that my friend could get a close up of my naughty nipples and the mounds of flesh where they live. I reached my arms above my head to raise my tits up, to imagine them being licked and sucked and fondled. I wet my finger in my mouth, and gently circled my nipple, making it erect and excited at the memory of another salivating at the sight. I listened as my friend encouraged me to consider where else the camera could be placed. What knickers did I have on that day? If I took the camera down to below my tummy, would he be able to see what lay underneath my knickers? Would he be able to see my pubic hairs, covering the sensual mass of overt sexiness? Maybe, I would like to reach into my panties and touch myself, and explain to him what I was feeling. How moist was I? Did I want to finger fuck myself? Could he watch me doing this? Of course I wanted a finger fuck. Maybe he could talk me through it, tell me what to do. How many fingers would he like to see inside me? Would it excite him to see me pushing hard, to see dribbles of excitement pouring out of me? Would he like me to squat down, taking the camera with me to see the gushes of sexual orgasm being released? Would he like to have his fingers inside me? Maybe next time we met up, we could both have our fingers inside me, we could both push and pump and search for that divine spot that once stimulated pours its juices everywhere. We could both have our hands submerged inside me, smothered with wet, sticky, girly cum, dribbling down our arms. And after I was excited and wet and engorged, he could slide his stiff, needy cock inside me and fuck me till I came some more.

He has his own webcam now. I think I need to see more of him on it. I want to undress in front of the webcam again. I want to carefully and slowly take off my top and my bra. I want to lift my tits up and shove my nipples towards the lens. I want to stand there and remove my skirt, so that he can see me in just my panties. I want to turn around and show him my arse, as he imagines touching it, spanking it with his hand or an excitable cock. I want to push my knickers down to reveal my pubes. I want to take my pants off and reveal my luscious labs to him.I want us both to be very naked, standing infront of our webcams. I want him to undo his belt, take off his shirt and stimulate me by his raw nakedness. I want him to take off his trousers so that he is standing there in his pants and I can make out the shape of his satisfied cock underneath the material of his knickers. I want him to reach into his pants and pull out his amazing, erect, knob, oozing with juices that excite me and pleasure me. I want him to pull down his knickers and turn profile to the camera, so that I can see his erect penis standing in full, majestic glory - protruding from his body in eager anticipation of stimulation. And then I want us to look at each others fucking, horny, sexual, motivated bodies and watch each other as we wank away, urgently and needily, talking as we do about what we would be doing if we were in the same room. I want us to describe the development of the orgasmic reactions, explaining to one another what is happening to our bodies, describing the sensation of our own touches. I want us to excite one another, so that the orgasm is a shared moment of total satori.

And I want him to cum, in a flourish of excitement, splashing white, sticky, semen all over the camera as though he was squirting his delicious spunk right into my face.

Don't call me a Luddite