On Their Computer Screens

I am fascinated with sexuality, romance, intimacy that doesn't happen in the physical, face-to-face realm. That isn't always the way I have sex and I want to see others enjoy human interaction differently. Phaesia, Tomi, and Dakota challenged me a bunch as I wrote their story; I hope you enjoy it.
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​“We've been talking awhile,” Phaesia said.

“Yup.” Dakota's slow nod showed on the computer screens.

“And you put forward your leading comment why?” Tomi asked.

Phaesia sighed. “I'm in the mood for something. Don't either of you ever get in the mood?”

“You forget you're dating two demisexuals?” Tomi snorted.

“Nah. I'm just as demi as you both. Maybe more if we consider that I'm a demiboy.”

“You said something,” Dakota challenged.

“We're not a bunch of sex repulsed people here.” Tomi sipped their can of cola.

Phaesia wrapped his large brown hands around his biceps, his forearms covering his nipples. “I would like to masturbate with you both on webcam.”

Tomi arched a red eyebrow. “You mean Dakota and I just watching you?”*

“Do you both want to?”

Dakota shook hir head. “I'm not ready to take part.”

“I'd just like to watch,” Tomi added.

“Okay.” Phaesia stroked his new dildo, his thumb moving over the carefully articulated foreskin.

“Good thing we're all nudists.” Tomi pressed their fingers on the opposite shoulder.

“Are you—” Dakota frowned.

“Yes, I'm feeling boyish today,” Phaesia answered Dakota's unfinished question. He grabbed the water-based lube bottle beside his computer.

“I like how we all disprove the common notion of nudists being sex-crazed.” Tomi dragged their hand over thee top of their monitor so their reddish-brown palm moved across their screens.

Phaesia dripped the lube into his palm. “Over my cock,” he muttered, just barely too quiet for his microphone to pick it up.

“It's a gorgeous cock,” Dakota said.

“I shouldn't have gotten a white one?”

Tomi rolled their eyes. “Do we have to have this talk again? You're black. Dakota and I started talking to you knowing you're black. Ze has talked again and again about fetishism and how it's not about your skin color for hir.”

“Yeah.” Phaesia's hand moved up and down his cock.

“I like watching your hand move. Does it feel good?” Tomi asked.

“Yeah, I love thinking it as part of me.” Phaesia chuckled. “And the harness positions the base so it rubs against my clit. I'd pondered how I'd wanna masturbate in front of you both.”

“Because your masturbation style is as fluid as your gender?” Dakota smiled softly.

Phaesia nodded. “For cishets, it seems so much of masturbating is about the clit or penis and the nipples, but we don't have exactly that, do we?”

“Nope, but do you really wanna keep talking like this?” Tomi leaned close to their webcam for a long moment.
“Not sure. Maybe you both could talk.” Phaesia licked his lips. “So I can hear your voices in my head next time I want to masturbate.”

“Luscious thought.” Tomi sipped something from rainbow-colored cup with a straw. “I wonder if we could make recordings of our voices for each other to listen to at times.”

“You could talk about queer identity and I'd be a pile of goo,” Dakota teased.

“You already figured out your pronouns before meeting me,” Tomi replied. Their gaze focused on a part of their screen, making Phaesia's heart jump in his throat. “We each had made it part way on journeys, didn't we, Phaesia?”

He grunted. Their voices tickled down his spine, across his skin. How do I orgasm? A tightness formed at the base of his spine.

“At least meeting in a text-based chat meant that we got to learn about each others' minds before too much effect of lookism clouded our perceptions, like Mx. Rhizome taught us to consider. Not to say that I don't enjoy looking at you both when we moved to this point of comfort.” Dakota shrugged one shoulder, the sparkle of glitter on her amber brown shoulder catching the gaze.

Phaesia rested his neck against his left hand as his right traveled across his body away from the dildo. The pleasure continued to pound at the base of his cock and spine. To drop the sensations from their high level, he switched hands so his non-dominant hand was the one caressing himself. “Lookism,” he muttered as his fingers dipped into the valley between two rolls.

“All sorts of bodies are attractive and good, regardless of what this colonizing culture with all its interconnected oppressions teaches.” Tomi gazed directly into their webcam, as if looking directly at Phaesia. “It was good to embrace physically at Pride last year.”

The muscles of Phaesia's bonus hole quaked in his release before he closed his eyes to see on the screen of his mind where semen spurted from his unbound clitorophallus. “That was amazing.”

“It was,” Dakota agreed.

Tomi pressed their fingers on their bottom lip for a moment before asking, “Do you mind if I write something for you, Phaesia?”

“Please.” He cleaned himself off with a moist toilette scented with sandalwood essential oil. “What are we all doing for dinner?”

Laughing, Tomi pinched the bridge of their nose. “At least we're good for moments like that.”