What if…

It is just text. But how he speaks to me, through my own passion, sets me on fire. Those lines rushing across the screen have their impact sneakily crawling up my legs and into my panties, having me gasp for air.

This can’t be. It just can’t.
I mean, here I am, on the other end of the world, engaging in role play through poetry. His mixes with mine. Mind gone.

The forest, the chase, my heartbeat and my fall.
It is dark, but my red hair gives me away. Even the red gown I wear.

His hunger for blood and flesh. I’m scared and excited.

My fingers hastily glide across the keyboard in front of me, trembling, super sensitized. The heartbeat in my ears. The sweat on my collarbone, the small of my back. I am set ablaze. Through my passion. Through poetry.

And I’m such an addict to role play games.
Always right there.
One word.
I’m there.
One term.
I feel.

Even the subtle messages of seduction, the intensity of it’s impact.
My, I’m wet. And I don’t care if it’s through this medium. This is endangering my sanity, yes. But I’m already insane so what else would be there that’s so threatening?

Ah, Yes.
I could fall to an image that might not be real.
To deliberately fuck my mind.
But how would I know?

I don’t care.
My strings are already being pulled and I can’t resist.
Only the fear of exposing myself to a complete stranger pushes me into publishing my art. Before I get blackmailed I publish my exposures myself.
If that’s not a stretch…

And now back to this titillation he provides.
Deliciously engulfing my sex, my heart.
Up to this day I never believed that a heart could be fucked.
But he keeps his promise, if only through text.
Too soon his words become my thoughts, his will my actions.

I can’t help but to give in in spite of my voices screaming at me. Thanks for letting me know. Now let me get back to FEELING THIS.

It’s far too late to withdraw. I already feel the delirium whenever I don’t get his texts. I admit, I’m hooked. For good.

People say it’s the moments, in which you give yourself fully, that matter.
What if this was one of those moments?
What if the medium didn’t matter, that it was just a way for him to say ‘When I get there, you will be mine.’ ?
I took the chance and look just where it led me.
I am claimed in body and soul.

And I am dancing.
Naked and wild in the pale moonlight.

~Joice Joker


Joice and her partner David Esotica work with women to create the ecstatic intimacy in a relationship they crave. They believe in laughing, crying, passion and orgasms. So you can imagine what happens when they talk about sex.

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