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Ok, so my girlfriend Karen thinks I am insane. Maybe
I am. I mean what else would you call a thirty six year old woman, a
working mother, a career woman even, who would agree to do what I plan on
doing tomorrow? Oh my God, it is tomorrow isn't it? You would think it
would stick in my brain better than the name of my first born child, the
way I have been dwelling on it for these last three months. What is that
kids name anyhow? Ok...so I joke around when I am nervous. I can't help
but be nervous. You would to, if you were gonna meet the person who has
been reaching into your body and imprinting on your soul for the first
time, like I am going to tomorrow. Yes, you heard me right. For the first
time! Yes, I know this man. Sometimes I think I know him better than I
know myself. I can see you are still confused. Alright, let me spell it
out for you a little more clearly.
My name is Paige. I have been divorced for seven years now. Yes, I have
dated on and off, but with the way times are nowadays, just climbing into
a guys car, makes them think you've agreed on the type and color of
condoms. There is NO more romance left in the world. At least that is what
I used to think. That was before I was in that chatroom back in August. I
can still remember the day because it was the same day my son left for his
dads. He goes one month every summer, and usually I dread his going. It
leaves me all alone for a whole month, me and the dog. I get through any
projects I had set aside in the first week and after that the boredom sets
in.
I had just waved goodbye to Jeremy. As I wandered through my now empty
apartment, I saw that yet again, Jeremy had left the door to his room wide
open. How am I supposed to keep the dogs hair off this bed if he
practically invites Scruff in. I went to go close it and I saw that not
only had he not closed the door but he had left his computer on. Another
bone of contention between us, I assure you. Little did I know that
Jeremy's faults would end up bringing me the most fulfilling relationship
I had ever had.
Instead of wandering into his room tripping over tossed clothes and
basketballs, I was able to walk directly in (that is what withholding
vacation money until the room is clean will win you. I only meant to shut
down his computer, but as I slid into the chair, I noticed that Jeremy had
been surfing (I think that is the term) the chatrooms again. I always
worry about him when he does that, but he is a smart kid, his screenname
is vague and he doesn't tell anyone nuthin (his words!) I sat there for
about 20 minutes just reading the comments that were scrolling past me.
This was a teen room for sure. They talked about music, shopping,
girlfriends, boyfriends. It wasn't very interesting but somehow I just sat
there transfixed, reading and waiting for something to happen. The time
just flew by. Now I knew why that kid rarely got the chores done I
assigned him.
Shaking my head in wonder, I reached for the mouse. Upon closing the
chatroom window, I saw under it, a listing of choices for other rooms.
God, I had no idea. There seemed to be something for everyone. Scrolling
through the list, I suddenly was tempted. I clicked on the 30something
room and in I went. Tentatively I typed hello. Immediately I was bombarded
with hi and hellos from everyone in the room. I returned a few and then
sat there reading comments about husbands, wives, sex!!!, anything and
everything seemed legal to chat about. I tossed a few comments of my own
in now and again and was surprised to find people typed responses back to
me. One person asked what a teeny bopper was doing in the room, and I had
to laugh. I forgot I was using Jeremy's name still. I quickly explained
that I was Jeremy's mother. I had no name of my own. Nor did I know how to
make one.
Suddenly up popped a new window. It was a private message from a good
samaritan in the room willing to instruct me on the making of my own name.
She walked me patiently through the process, the room scrolling past me
beneath. Within minutes I had a name of my own!! But what the heck was I
going to do with it? That night I signed off wondering what I was
thinking. Everyone knew that the internet and chatrooms were for kids. I
wandered into the kitchen, got a cup of tea and headed for bed.
It was several days later I was doing laundry when I wandered back into
Jeremy's room. I had only meant to put away the last of his clothes and
there sat his computer. I stopped in front of it and thought to myself,
what the heck. It wasn't like I had anything other than matching socks
waiting for me.
As I signed on, I went into the same chatroom I had been in before, hoping
to run into a name or two I recognized at least. No such luck. I said the
hellos, and then settled down to chatting with whomever would respond back
to me. I was getting into the swing of it, having a reasonably good time
(or at least a better time than would have been had, had I gone the sock
route) when one person in particular started chatting with me. He (or at
least it seemed like it was a he) was so easy going. It was so simple just
to sit back and chat and chat with him. The rest of the chatroom scrolled
past me unaware. I found myself not even reading their conversations, so
busy was I watching for what his next response or question was going to
be.
Night after night, he and I continued our conversations. It wasn't long
before we compared marriages and divorces, dating disasters, and parenting
techniques. We talked about the news, we talked about the weather. We
talked of joys and disappointment. He seemed able to tell when I was
having a shitty day, and even was able to jolly me out of a bad mood,
something my ex was never able to do (perhaps that is why he became my ex
eventually).
I enjoyed the time I spent typing to him. I even think he enjoyed it as
well. He made me feel special in a way not to many people had ever been
able to in my life. I would shake my head at times, wondering what I
thought I was doing. I mean you hear about people who meet via the
internet, but you never think you, a reasonable person who even has a life
would ever get lured into something so silly. But I did and I was and I
was loving it!!
I guess I didn't ever think of where any of it would lead to. I don't know
why I thought that I could sit down and spill my heart out to another
person night after night, weekends too, and not being to feel something
for that person. He was so supportive, so funny, so intelligent. God, if
he had been my next door neighbor I would have been offering sugar and
flour by now just to lure him over. But even though I felt like this man
knew me better than most of my family members or good friends, it seemed
odd, awkward even to think about meeting him. He was from the internet!
What if people ever asked how we met? Oh my God, I found myself realizing
I did want to meet him. The more I thought about it the more I wanted to.
Our conversations went on. Both of us seemed to avoid the mention of
meeting. Now that I wanted it, I could tell more clearly that we were
definitely not bringing it up. If the conversation turned toward a topic
that might remotely end up with us discussing it, we quickly changed
directions. Him as well as me. I began wondering if he was as weirded out
about it as I was, or perhaps he just didn't like me enough to think about
meeting. Was I just some pesky woman he put up with? I just couldn't
believe that. He seemed to enjoy chatting with me, he was always available
when I would say hello, he never made excuses that I could tell, in order
to get away from me. I ended up doubting myself at times. Wasn't I good
enough to meet?
It really bothered me that he wasn't bringing it up. I wasn't about to do
it. I was the woman. We aren't the aggressors. We never ask another person
out! I sounded like my mom to myself. Hell, I was a divorcee, raising a
child as a single parent. I wasn't like her. Please don't tell me I was!
So, night after night I told myself that I was going to bring up the
subject, and night after night I sidestepped chances to do so. I was just
plain afraid. That was the long and the short of it. I didn't want to risk
losing this wonderful man by pushing too hard. I was afraid if I insisted
upon meeting, he would move on to someone new. Someone who wasn't so
pushy. I ended up dropping a few veiled hints and that was as brave as I
got.
But mine weren't the only veiled hints being dropped. It was incredible
how some of our conversations effected me. Yes, I know, I can be a
horrible flirt sometimes, but really, who isn't? Sometimes I couldn't help
myself. He practically would set me up. It was as if I were the
comedienne, and he my straight man. I won't lie either, we both got into
it sometimes. After all, we were both grown adults (oh my god, I hope he
is a grown adult!!) and sometimes our conversations would go from friendly
to downright HOT! It started out rather innocently. A comment thrown in
during a bland conversation, double meanings, sexual innuendo. But then it
became not so veiled anymore.
Ok, go ahead and call it cybersex if you must. But to me, it was more than
words. Sometimes sitting there in Jeremy's room (if you tell him I will
hunt you down and kill you) reading the messages as they appeared before
me, with him describing how it felt for his tongue to be sliding across,
well, ok, we already opened up this can of worms, so I may as well not try
and gloss over the good parts. He had a wondrous way of describing things,
that just made me shiver.
He would (with words) run his hands over my body, and as I read his
descriptions, I could feel his warm hand, sliding over my breasts, could
feel his fingers parting the lips of my pussy, his index finger dipping in
to pull moisture up against my clit and press against it. I could feel his
tongue as it licked me, how his lips would suck against my clit, sliding
up and down upon it, stroking it. I had no idea that people did some of
the things in real life he described to me in words. I went to bed most
nights, wet and yearning for fulfillment. Damn good thing Jeremy was still
at his fathers, or he would have heard my moans from down the hallway as I
stroked myself to orgasm as I imagined myself in my internet lovers arms,
leaning back against him, his arms around me, his fingers sliding over my
clit, dipping into my now hot and aching cunt.
When Jeremy came home, I found myself frantic. How would I stay in contact
with my wonderful new friend. Jeremy was online so much of the time,
either researching homework (yeah right!!) or chatting with friends, I
would never get a chance to sign on and find him waiting for me. I was
tempted to take Jeremy's computer out of his bedroom and move it to a
central location. That way I would at least get a turn when he went to
bed. It might have worked except for the fact that I knew I would soon
exhaust myself by staying up all night. There had to be a solution that
would work.
I discussed it with Mark, (yes, by now I knew his name), and while he
couldn't do more than commiserate with me over the computer dilemma, he
did have a suggestion that we both got butterflies in our stomachs
thinking about. I was thrilled and terrified at the same time. It took
quite a bit of beating around the bush for us to finally agree that one
possible way for us to continue our relationship was to break down and
become more like real people. We decided to take our friendship up a notch
and yes, I know, unthought of in this day and age, talk on the phone!
We agreed that he would call me to start with. I waited on pins and
needles for the phone to ring. Jeremy had returned about 2 days earlier,
and Mark and I thought it best to give me some down time with Jeremy. It
wasn't hard to be excited about him coming home. I mean, for years he was
my reason for living. I stayed up well into the night talking with him
about what he did and who he met and so many other things, I barely even
thought of Mark. Well, barely, until I went to bed.
In bed, lying there on my back, staring at the ceiling, I would yearn for
Mark's words. For his sexual expertise. My fingers would slip down the
front of my pajama bottoms, and push my underwear off to one side. While I
reran Mark's words through my head, my fingers played out the drama on my
body. I would slide two fingers between the folds of my pussy, and after
moistening them from deep inside the folds, I would drag them up, one
finger on each side of my clit. At first I would just rub across it, but
once I felt it grow beneath my fingertips, felt it peaking from the hood,
I would softly grip it between the two fingers and slide them up and down
the tiny shaft. His mouth would take over in my mind and I would feel my
hips lifting up off the bed as I pressed my clit against his tongue. I
trembled in ecstasy as I came for him, and he never even knew it.
After a week of no communication, I have to tell you, I was becoming a
person no one wanted to be around. I can't blame them. Even my oblivious
son asked what my problem was. What was I supposed to say to him, or
anyone else for that matter? I certainly couldn't tell them the truth
behind my moods. I couldn't tell them that I was in withdrawal from online
chatting, and that my sex life was suffering for lack of cyber sex. I
found it laughable myself, so go ahead and laugh out loud, or LOL in
online jargon. I knew that Mike and I were going to talk on the weekend,
but while that excited me to no end, it also scared the shit out of me.
By the time the weekend rolled around, I had turned down three offers to
go out with various friends. They were worried about me. I hadn't left the
house or taken part in any of our usual get-togethers in weeks and weeks.
My best friend Karen even called me on it. She took no for an answer
easily enough, but she prodded at me trying to dig out what was going on.
While my other friends worried for me, asking if there was anything they
could do for me, and patted me on the back to try and shake me from my
apparent decline into depression, Karen knew that there was more to my
becoming the hermit I seemed than unhappiness. She could see the look of
excitement in my eyes, she knew I was keeping a secret of some kind.
I eventually ended up telling her after a grueling half hour of nagging on
her part. I was never any good at keeping secrets, especially good ones,
from her. At first she thought I was a fool. She told me that he could be
married, cheating on his wife, or a toad masquerading as a prince. I
assured her he was the genuine article, that he wouldn't lie to me. What
was to gain by his lies, I asked her. She laughed and said a good fuck for
starters. I made light of it by saying we all needed a good fuck now and
then. Inside I was defending him. I couldn't believe that someone who I
had been communicating with for more than a month, and whom I had shared
intimate thoughts as well as thoughts of intimate deeds could possibly be
a predator.
Damn Karen for planting a seed of doubt. The rest of the day I would stop
and wonder. What if I was wrong. What if this guy whom I had felt so
special with, had a whole harem of desperate divorcees who dwelled on his
every thought. What if he went from flower to flower, sprinkling us with
promises, feeding us lines, all in an attempt to pollinate. As the time
for our first telephone conversation rolled around, my stomach was in a
knot. Honestly I was terrified. I didn't want to answer it when it rang.
What if Karen was right? How could I possibly know this man? How could I
trust that he wasn't going to hurt me? Did I dare invest emotions into
someone who I met via the internet?
When he finally called, I had worked myself up into a tizzy. When I heard
it ring, I sat frozen in doubt. By the third ring, my heart was pounding.
By the fourth, though, I lunged across the room now scared he would hang
up. Talk about torn feelings! "Hello" I blurted out, winded from my
sprint. "Hello" he said, "Paige?" His voice was smooth, (too smooth? How
often did he make calls like this?) "Paige, this is Mike. How are you,
darlin?" (DARLING? What kind of thing is that to say to someone the first
time you had ever talked to them?)
I guess I don't have to tell you how the first call went. Karen had me so
worked up that the man didn't stand a chance. He was convicted without a
trial. Sure, we talked for a while. Discussed inane things, how is the
weather, how was your day, my son, his daughter, ex spouses even. If I
hadn't been poisoned with doubt, it might have been pleasant. I do have to
give it to Mark for hanging in there though. I would have hung up after
the first few minutes, if I had been him.
That night as I lay in bed, I felt so lost. Like something wonderful had
been wrenched away from me. I had to laugh at myself at one point. Here I
was, mourning a relationship with a person I had never met! But in all
truth, I felt I was mourning. There had been something there. A connection
between Mark and I had been torn. I felt sick to my stomach as I tossed
and turned trying to sleep.
The next morning, I busied myself with housework. Laundry, dishes,
vacuuming, anything to drown out my own thoughts. I cleaned my fears away,
or tried to. As I passed Jeremy's room, on my way to the linen closet with
freshly laundered towels, I paused. Peaking in, I felt the pull of his
computer. It seemed to even call to me. Jeremy was at his dads, for his
every other weekend visit, and I had the house to myself for at least 8
more hours. Setting the towels down on his bed, I pulled out the computer
chair from under his desk. Sitting there, my fingers already wrapped
around the mouse, I realized, I had made a big mistake. I had blown it. I
was even a little frantic as I pressed enter and sent my password across
the phone lines, opening the door to where I had felt so at home for the
last six weeks.
My breath caught in my throat as I realized I had mail. My fingers
trembled as I clicked on the icon to open the mail. Had he written me, or
was this just one more piece of junk mail that found its way into my
mailbox for no apparent reason? I hurriedly scanned through the mail that
had accumulated over the week, looking desperately for mail from Mark.
Seeing his name, I opened it, and read what he had to say. I quickly
realized that this had been sent prior to our telephone conversation. In
it he said how much he had missed our conversations. He said he had come
to rely on them to close his days, and without a goodnight kiss from me,
he felt lost climbing into his empty bed. He also told me that there were
times during the day, going about his normal routine that something would
happen and he would store it in his "to tell Paige" file so he could
relate it to me later. He mentioned his disappointment seconds later when
he remembered that it would be the end of the week before he got to talk
with me.
His excitement as he wrote of the upcoming phone call showed through his
words. I sat there reading and felt myself a traitor. Here was a person
who truly enjoyed me, and a more real me than anyone else had ever met. I
felt I knew him so well, and I had allowed another person to cloud my
judgment. I didn't know what I would, or could do to make up for my
behavior on the phone but I knew I had to do something. Sitting there, I
began typing an email to him. One I hoped would explain my lack of feeling
on the phone, apologizing for letting my friend work me up and make me
doubt him. I had to tell him how I truly felt for him, my only chance at
begging forgiveness lay in truth.
As I typed, I realized the truth, that this man, who while he started out
as a pretend person, with whom I might flirt and act as I would otherwise
not, was now an important entity in my life. I realized I needed him. I
realized I wanted his interaction. I wanted his input, I wanted him. I was
frantic over the thought that I might have blown it. I was scared he might
have moved on, hurt but unwilling to allow me to try and make it up to
him.
I sat there, typing that email, my feelings gushing out onto the page. It
wasn't until I glanced up that I noticed he had signed online and was
messaging me. It started with a tentative hello, and then a question,
asking me if I was busy. I answered him, my heart pounding. I told him I
was in the middle of writing to him. He asked me if it was a Dear John
letter. He acted like it was a joke, but I could tell by the slowness of
his responses that he was concerned that it might be. I then told him I
was so sorry. I was a beast for the way I had treated him on the phone. I
asked him to forgive me.
I launched into my reasons for my behavior, I told him how Karen had
played devils advocate, and how I had caved to her reasoning. I then told
him that I knew now that I was wrong. I told him I didn't care how we had
met, or that I didn't really know who or what he was on a regular basis. I
told him what I didn't know didn't matter. What I did know was that I
needed him. I wanted him in my life, and that I couldn't bear the thought
that I might lose his presence.
I couldn't believe when he finally replied to my onslaught of words. His
only reply was one word. {KISS} it said. I melted. He took me in his cyber
arms and held me, he rocked me, and told me everything would be ok. He
stroked my hair and touched my face. He wiped the tears from my eyes, and
kissed my eyelids. I could do nothing but sit there and let the emotions I
felt wash over me. He pulled me close and held me, then bent his head down
and kissed my lips. I pressed against him, and kissed him back, our
tongues sliding next to one anothers. My hips pressed against him, and I
could tell that not only had he forgiven me, but he wanted me.
In our other cyber encounters we let the act itself be of importance, the
words described what he would do to me, what I would do to him, but this
time, the words were buried under an outflowing of emotions. I was
breathless as he picked me up and carried me over to the bed. My arms
around his neck, kissing him as he layed me down.
Sitting on the bed beside me he ran his hand from my shoulder, slowly down
and around my breast, then across the flat of my stomach, over my hip and
down my thigh to my knee. With his hand on my knee he bent down and kissed
me. As I arched my body up toward his, my lips pressed tightly to his, his
hand climbed my thigh. Our kiss became more passionate as his hand slid up
and he held it tight against my pussy. I wrapped my arms around his neck
and my tongue slid into his mouth. My body came up to mold against his as
his fingers pressed against my cunt.
Laying back, I began unbuttoning his shirt, and once it was off, I ran my
fingers over his chest. He continued massaging my pussy as I tugged at the
waist band of his pants, unbuttoning them. My fingers dipped into them as
I unzipped them, and pulled out his rigid cock. My hand gripped at it and
then, I suddenly sat back up, this time to pull my own shirt off,
unlatching my bra and removing it also. He watched me as my breasts hung
free then reached out and took one into his free hand. He leaned down and
his lips closed over my nipple. He sucked it deep into his open mouth, his
tongue stroking the nipple to the roof of his mouth. I cradled the breast
from the side as he sucked it, my free hand caressing his head. I leaned
down to kiss his head as he sucked harder. My body responded quickly to
his loving, and I was wet and wanting.
I pulled his face up to mine, my lips covering his mouth, as I kissed him
passionately. We both removed the last remnants of clothing from one
another and he pushed me back down onto the bed, his body covering mine.
As he slid between my legs, I could feel his cock pressing against my
thigh. I parted my legs around him, my ankles locking around his waist and
as I stretched up to kiss him, I felt his cock slip easily into my soaking
pussy. He teased me. I was desperate for him and he would sink his cock
barely into me, then withdrawal it. Over and over he would do this,
stopping when he felt me pressing upward. I finally forced myself to relax
and let him control our lovemaking.
My body pressed to his, he finally plunged his cock deep into me. I arched
against him and grinded his cock tightly against my cervix, my pussy
gripping and clenching his cock. He pressed his chest against mine,
pinning me to the bed as he drove his cock deep into me again and again. I
began meeting every thrust as we both were driven higher and higher
towards orgasm.
As our bodies met, so did our minds. Every word written was a perfect meld
of lovemaking, him responding to my every move in exactly the right way.
We were connected on more than just a physical plane. Our connection made
this internet lovemaking more than just words. I felt his body on mine, I
felt his cock deep inside me, and when our bodies came together, both of
us peaking and cumming at the same time, I felt my body responding to him,
my pussy clenching around his cock, his cock pulsing inside me as his cum
sprayed my inner walls. I was breathless as we both held each other tight.
I had never had such an intense experience in my life. I was
thunderstruck.
I couldn't have asked for a better way of showing forgiveness than he gave
me that night. I felt so close to him, I wanted his even more now, than I
had before. I dared to say I loved him. To my delight and surprise,
instead of pulling back, he too, declared his love for me. I went to bed
that night feeling high from our session. My body was thrumming with
sexual tension. I felt so strong a need for this man that my body ached
for him. My fingers played across my clit as I recalled our lovemaking. As
I stroked myself, my fingers dipping deeply into my wet and hot cunt, I
thought of Mark, I thought of his cock, stroking the inner walls of my
pussy, I thought of his mouth on mine. As I writhed on the bed, my
pleasure peaking, my fingers flying across my clit, my other hand pinching
and twisting my nipples, It was Mark who was on top of me. As my pussy
clenched around my fingers and my clit swelled and my hips arched up off
the bed as I orgasmed, it was Mark whose ear I moaned into. I lay there
panting afterward, on the brink of sleep, and as I rolled onto my side, a
pillow clutched against me, it was he who I said good night to.
The following week, I would steal snatches of online time while Jeremy was
over at friends or playing in the neighborhood. The emails that Mark and I
traded became love notes. We yearned for each other. While it seemed silly
that two people who had never even met could love each other, I didn't
doubt our love for a moment. I had come to rely on Mark as a friend, lover
and confidante. He was the person I thought of when I woke up, and the
person who came with me into my dreams as I lay down to sleep at night.
It was incredible to me that I could have become so attached to a person
in so short a time, but I had. There was no doubting my feelings for him.
It seemed as though there wasn't another person in the world who
understood me the way he did. There were times in our chatting where we
would say the same words at the same time. We would laugh about it over
and over as it happened. Our connection to one another was so strong. I
felt alive when we spent time together online. I couldn't imagine we could
have been any closer, even if we had met and dated under conventional
circumstances. And besides, meeting online was becoming the usual way of
meeting people, instead of at a bar at closing time.
At the end of the week, we decided we were ready to try a phone call
again. Jeremy was going over to a friends house for a sleep over, and it
seemed the perfect time to talk undistracted. I felt as if I should get
dressed up and do my makeup and nails like this was a real date. I was so
excited. I carried the cordless from room to room so I wouldn't miss
hearing it ring. We had both agreed upon a time but I didn't want to rely
on my poor sense of time and run an errand right at the time he called. I
had already wasted one call with him due to my friend Karen's stupid
meddling and I knew better than to keep Mark waiting any longer.
When the phone rang, I jumped startled and excited. I didn't want to
answer the phone on the first ring though, so I forced myself to breath
deeply and relax, counting the rings, grabbing it up just before it
switched over to the answering machine. "Hello?" I answered, making my
voice so sultry and sexy. "Hello there, sexy" said the voice on the other
end. My stomach dropped as I heard him. "What do you want?" I replied, not
so sweet anymore, realizing it was my ex's voice on the other end. Dammit
I thought to myself. I hope Mark doesn't try to get through while I am
talking to this jerk. He proceeded to tell me Jeremy had twisted his ankle
playing soccer with a couple of the neighborhood kids, and while he had
iced and elevated it all night, Jeremy was still complaining it hurt to
walk on. He wanted me to come pick him up and take him to the doctors for
an xray. I almost told him to do it himself, not wanting to leave the
house and miss Mark's call, but I stopped myself. I knew that the request
was probably coming from Jeremy and not the ex. Any time Jeremy was hurt
or sad, distressed in any way, he always saught me for comfort and aid. I
didn't want to let him down this time. Gathering up my carkeys and purse
as I told John, my ex, I was on my way. I tossed the phone into the chair
by the front door as I left. I almost thought I heard the phone ringing as
I pulled out of the driveway, but I shook it off as my overactive
imagination.
I didn't return until after 10pm, several hours of which were spent in the
Emergency room, a busy place on a Sunday evening. Jeremy merely sprained
his ankle, the x-ray was negative for a fracture. He did however get a
complimentary ankle wrap and a cool set of crutches, I felt were going to
end up in another injury from the way he swung them around and balanced
himself on them. I was frazzled to say the least as we pulled up to the
house. Walking through the door, Jeremys bags balanced under one arm while
I unlocked it, I glanced across the room to see the answering maching
blinking. Three messages waiting. Damn, damn damn, I thought to myself.
Getting Jeremy settled in for the night took another half hour, and it was
late by the time I sat down and listened to the messages. It seemed my
imagination wasn't working overtime. From the timestamp on his message it
had to have been him calling as I rushed out of the house. There was
another message a few hours later, him again. I could hear the hurt and
disappointment in his voice. The third message was from John, asking what
happened and why weren't we home yet. I cursed at him for not handling
things himself, he had cost me a chance to talk to Mark. Who knew when I
would get the opportunity again. I glanced at the clock which now showed
half past eleven, and knew I couldn't try to reach Mark that late. I was
tempted to sneak into Jeremy's room and leave an email for Mark explaining
what had happened, but Jeremy was far too light a sleeper for me to get
away with that. I went to bed frustrated and distraught about the whole
thing.
The following week was hectic to say the least. Carting Jeremy to school
and picking him up (he usually walked but due to the crutches that was
impossible) then sitting at the kitchen table trying to finish what work I
brought home with me, Jeremy comfortable in his room playing an internet
game, his foot propped on pillows. I knew I wasn't going to get a chance
to touch base with Mark. It seemed to me that life was pushing me away
from having a relationship with him. But then again, I didn't have time to
have much of a relationship with anyone. Thinking back, it had been years
since I was intimate with anyone at all. This thing with Mark was about
the first time I had truly let my hair down and allowed someone close. He
made me feel so alive. When we chatted I became reanimated. I had hopes
and dreams. I let myself indulge in fantasies. I could only hope that Mark
would give me the chance to explain my absence and give me another shot.
Several days went by before I got the chance to email Mark. It was Friday
night, and I had let Jeremy stay up late to watch one of those action
movies, Raiders of the something or other, and I guess it was not so
adventuresome as I found Jeremy asleep on the couch halfway through it. I
covered him with a blanket and moved his soda far enough away that his
thrashing in his sleep wouldn't knock it over. Then I went into his room
and after unburying his keyboard, signed on. Mark had of course left a few
emails by now. He didn't seem angry in them , but there was a tone of hurt
in the later ones. I replied to the last one, sent several days prior and
tried to explain where I was and what I was doing that made me miss his
call. I also let him know how badly I had wanted to talk with him, how
much I missed him and let him know that I wanted to continue trying to
make something out of our "relationship". I cut myself short, knowing my
inclination to run on about things, and signed the email, sending it on
its way. Now all I could do was wait and see if he responded.
I went to bed that night, a measure of hope restored and examined my
feelings for Mark. He was the first person in a long time that could make
me laugh, who really listened to me, who shared his life with me. As I lay
there, sinking into slumber, I realized that I really wanted him in my
life, and not just as an online personality, but as a real person. A
person whom I could be intimate with, someone who I could love.
That night I had a dream. In my dream he and I were meeting for the very
first time. We made arrangements to meet at a nearby upscale restaurant,
it had intimate dining, a bar and a dancefloor. I was beside myself
getting ready for the date. Karen was over and she was helping me chose
what to wear. Half my closet lay scattered around my room, as I tried on
dress after dress, skirt after skirt, pants, shirts, anything that would
make me look wonderful. I ended up choosing the blue silk dress that felt
smooth against my skin. I guess I figured if I couldn't win him over with
my personality, at least if he danced with me, he would fall in love with
the feel of my dress pressed against him.
I arrived at the restaurant a few minutes early and stood in the front.
They had a wonderful koi pond there and I was leaning against the rail,
scattering koi food and watching the fish clammer for a bite. They were
beautiful, all the striking colors and sizes. I was so intent on watching
the fish that I didn't notice the approach of another person. I felt his
presence as he brushed his hand across my back and as I turned startled,
he spoke. His voice was the way I recognized him.
I was stunned by his strong face and body. He smiled at me and introduced
himself, like we had never met before. I laughed to cover my nervousness
as I reached out my hand to shake his. As he took my hand he pulled me
closer to him, and wrapped his arm about my waist. As I found myself
pressed against his body I was overcome with desire for this man. I gazed
up into his steely grey-green eyes and melted at the look of love
reflected from them. His hands were around me, running up and down my back
as I put mine up around his neck. My fingers ran through his soft brown
hair and I leaned in toward him. As our lips were about to meet, I woke.
I lay there staring at the ceiling, my body aching for a man who I had
never met. I reached down under the covers and stroked my fingers over the
lips of my pussy, teasing them through the curls of hair there. My hand
barely touching. My pussy pulsed with need as I parted the lips and
pressed one finger into the slick folds. I spread the moistness up against
my clit and stroked it until my hips began pressing upward from the bed.
My clit had swollen and was peaking out through the folds, and I pressed
against it. My finger slid around it over and over.
With my other hand, I pressed two fingers deep inside me, stoking the
inner walls of my cunt. Increasing the pressure on my clit, I stroke over
it again and again, as I plunged my fingers inside me. My hips rose and
met the thrusts of my fingers, my body now shaking with the pleasuring I
was giving myself. When I finally climaxed, I was shuddering and my pussy
was clenching at my fingers. I fingerfucked myself over and over as my
body shook, my pussy now slick and wet, my fingers now sloshing as I slid
them in me again and again. Afterward I lay there, shaking from the
intensity of my climax. I fell asleep thinking of Mark, sure that things
would work out.
Sunday, I got up early, and made Jeremy and myself a huge breakfast. As I
cooked, I thought of how it might feel to spend a lazy day in bed with
Mark. He and I cuddling as we read the paper. Croissants and coffee on the
bedside table. I imagined we would snuggle up against each other, one of
us constantly reaching out for the other, stroking a thigh, rubbing a
back, kissing a cheek. I could see us feeding one another croissants,
heavily buttered, and licking the butter from each others lips. I knew
that eventually our caresses and kisses would turn toward more serious
loving. Lying on our sides facing one another, both of our heads on the
same pillow, would stare into the others eyes, his hand caressing my side
as I pressed forward and kissed him.
Kissing one another slowly, our lips pressing forward time and time again,
loving kisses, until we became so aroused that the kissing would escalate.
I would come up on one arm and lean over him, my mouth on his, my tongue
running along his lips, parting them and darting into his mouth. My tongue
running along the gumline of his teeth, then slipping further in and
sliding along the side of his tongue. As we kissed, our passion
escalating, his hands would be caressing my breasts. His fingers rolling
my taut nipples between his fingers. Pressing them flat under his palm and
rubbing them, making my body thrill with the pleasure.
After a short while, he would push me back down against the bed, his body
sliding over mine and press himself onto me. I would love the weight of
his body resting against mine, his lips kissing me, his tongue slipping
into my mouth, his hard cock pressing against my inner thigh. My legs
would come up and encircle his waist, his cock now pressing against the
slick moist folds of my cunt. My arms up would slip up around his neck as
he pressed his cock into those folds, the head penetrating me. I would
quiver as his cock sunk further into me. Our bodies would move together as
one, every inch of his hardened cock plunging deep into me over and over
again. It was here that I realized the bacon was on fire. But so was my
pussy, I was so hot by now, my daydream fueling my fire, I didn't know how
I was going to wait much longer to meet this man.
It wasn't so hard, Monday through Friday, with work and taking care of
Jeremy, I hardly had time to wonder what Mark was up to, and if he was
thinking of me. Not saying I didn't. There was many a time when I would be
startled out of another hot daydream by a car horn behind me. The light
had turned green how long ago? Another time, the dear old lady at the
grocery store rammed her cart into mine to get me to move up my place in
line. Even Jeremy noticed my distraction. He didn't complain as much as I
might have over the sandwich I sent him to school with that had no meat in
it. He did however raise an awful stink about me turning his favorite
t-shirt red, by putting it in with the new towels for the guest bath. OK,
I admit it, I was a walking hormone! Just a glance at the cucumber in the
vegetable tray made me wet.
Thank god it was the weekend that Jeremy went to his dad's house. On
Friday night after dropping him off at this dads house, I rushed home. I
didn't get any speeding tickets, but that was only because I learned early
on that crying when the cop stops you gets you a warning instead of a
citation. Poor Scruff got the shortest walk of her life, and showed her
appreciation by eating my slippers. Something I didn't even notice until
the following morning. I threw together a plate of leftover spaghetti, a
glass of wine, and breaking my own rule about eating in the bedroom went
in Jeremy's room and camped out on his computer. I didn't waste all my
time waiting though, I'll have you know, I got some good bargains shopping
early for Christmas!
Around an hour later, and another glass of wine down, Mark signed on. I
had to stop myself from messaging him the second I saw his name, but much
to his credit, I seemed to be more important than any email he might have
had, as he immediately said hello. God, we were both like giddy teens.
Over and over we said how great it was to be chatting again finally, and
how much we had missed one another. It wasn't long until we began cuddling
(I prefer that word better than cybering). It almost seemed a frantic kind
of lovemaking we wrote of, and I was so turned on after a half hour of it,
I had shed my pants and shoes, unbuttoned my shirt and was sitting at the
computer, typing away in my bra and panties. Yes, I would clean the
keyboard later!
It was almost impossible to sit there reading Marks words, without
stroking my fingers over my clit. At times, I would have to lick the
wetness off my fingers before I could type a response. I know for a fact
that he had to be typing one handed now and then. I couldn't see him, but
his one word responses where a dead giveaway. It was such a turn on to
know that my mere words were enough to make him hard! I played it up too
though. I would tell him how bad I wanted to suck his cock. Tell him that
I wanted to lick it through the fabric of his shorts, and nibble at it
when I could feel it get hard. I told him that I wanted to rip his pants
off, and cradle his cock and balls in both hands, and slip the tip of it
into my lips. Let my tongue twirl around the head of his cock, then suck
it in deeper. I told him I wanted to slide his cock over my tongue and
press it against the roof of my mouth, pulling back from him and letting
my lips drag over his shaft, then suck hard, and drag it back in my mouth,
all the while rolling his balls around in my hands.
God, I did want too! I could feel his cock, firm and long in my mouth as I
typed. I could feel it jump and jerk as I sucked at it. I could feel the
ridge around the head of his cock pass over my lips as I sucked it deep
into my mouth, all the while my tongue stroking the underside of it. I
wanted to press his cock deep into my mouth and feel the tip enter my
throat, I wanted to feel it as I swallowed around it, my tongue pressing
upward. I wanted to slurp at his cock, sucking it in and out over and over
until I could feel it start to thicken in my mouth as he was about to cum.
I wanted to feel it jerk as the cum pulsed out into my mouth, me pressing
it deep into my throat and swallowing every drop. I wanted to feel it spur
cum against the back of my throat, wave after wave of it. I wanted to hold
his cock in my mouth as it softened, and suck it back to hardness again. I
wanted to start over again and again and again.
We chatted until well after midnight, neither of us even considering
trying to call the other. For some reason, that night, the written words
were stronger than anything we could ever say to one another. It felt so
freeing to read and respond, sharing wants, feeling, and emotions. I can't
speak for him, but somehow I felt that if I were to have to bring all
those feelings to the tip of my tongue and spit them out as words, they
would lose some of thier intensity. That night, words were our reality. We
both signed off with hesitation, as if we were both aware of the fact that
saying goodnight and turning toward the real world would lessen our
experience.
During the following day, I worked around the house doing all the chores
that a full time single mom does. I, of course, wandered by Jeremy's room
often, even paused to sign on and see if Mark was online, left a
suggestive email even, but I never ran into him. I recalled him mentioning
a friends wedding or some stupid affair he had to attend, but in my lust
filled haze I couldn't recall what time it started or ended, or even if he
had told me those details. I figured if nothing else, he would be around
that night sometime, and I left him an email saying when I would plan on
being online and to check for me if he wandered on. I bounced through the
house, on a post sex high, even though I had not encounted a male of my
species in months. I had to admit that the online scene was a pretty
fulfilling experience. All the emotions, all the feelings, but noone you
had to share your bathroom with. Who could ask for more??
Who indeed? Well, me for one. I wanted more, I wanted a real person with a
real name and a real voice. A person with real arms that could hold the
REAL me. I was finally ready for a real meeting. Now how to bring it up?
How could I say I wanted more without scaring him away. We had never
really talked about meeting one another. The most we had committed to thus
far was a phonecall, that still hadn't happened (I don't count the call
that Karen had bungled for us). The thought of meeting with him thrilled
and scared me to death. It is so easy to get along with someone online. So
easy for them to portray the nice side of thier personality and never ever
give any indications of the dark skeletons in thier closets. Was I ready
for someone else I cared for, and yes, I admit I cared for Mark, was I
ready for them to see my dirty laundry?
Was he ready to see me? That night, I don't know who even suggested it. I
recall it being me, but then my heart was beating so fast I might have
been hallucinating, and he might have been the one to broach the subject.
All I really remember was that both of us were thrilled with the prospect
of meeting finally. We made the plans and decided it would be best to wait
until a weekend when Jeremy was away at his dads to go through with it. We
picked a restaurant near my place, he said it was the mans job to do the
traveling. I was floating on air by the end of our chat. The only downside
was that Mark wasn't going to be in town all next week and the weekend so
I wouldn't get much more of a chance to chat with him before the big day.
I couldn't believe as we signed off, that we were going to meet. I kept
telling myself over and over again it was true. It was true. It was true.
Karen went shopping with me the next weekend to find the perfect outfit to
wear. I wanted to look chic but she pushed for feminine. She said I was
too pretty to pull chic off. I let her win that battle, since I had
already had the fight with her about even going through with the date in
the first place. We ended up picking out a powder blue dress that was
satiny smooth with soft lacey accents. It did look great on me. I had to
thank Karen for being the fashion expert. I got it home and hung it up on
my closet door where I could see it every time I walked into the room. It
was a tangible reminder that I was going to be with Mark soon. I couldn't
hardly wait.
OK, so now you are all caught up with me. Tomorrow is the big night. I
have rehearsed the meeting in my head a million and one times but I still
have butterflies in my stomach. I mean how can a person be scared and
excited at the same time? So many what ifs! There was the all powerful,
what if we just didn't have the same chemistry in person that we did
online? Or if that one wasn't enough, what if I get there and he isn't
there? I was so busy freaking myself out I couldn't sleep well that night.
So waking up, another what if cropped up. What if these black circles
under my eyes don't go away by tonight?
So there I was, driving to the restaurant. Mark said to meet him in the
bar at 7. I left the house by 6:30, thinking that if there was traffic I
would still get there in time, and if not, I could always sit in my car
and bite all my fingernails off. Karen had come over and helped me get
ready. I have to hand it to that girl. I know she doesn't like the idea of
me doing this, but once she got it through her thick head I was going to
do it, she has been nothing but helpful. I would have been a mess without
her there helping and cracking jokes to keep my mind off of everything. I
need to remember to thank her.
At 6:50, I pulled into the parking lot. I wasn't sure I could get out of
the car with my knees knocking so fiercely. Good thing Karen said to wear
my flats, because if I had worn those pumps, I probably would have gotten
my first look at Mark through the back window of the ambulance that was
taking me to the hospital with a compound fracture to my ankle. Pulling
down the sunvisor, I checked to make sure my makeup was still fresh
enough, then decided what the hell, either he likes me like this or he
doesn't. Who cares about looks anyway, when we have already shared our
souls with one another!
So I managed to get into the restaurant without any embarrassing mishaps,
and wondered if I could get a peak in the bar without him knowing I have
arrived yet. I guess he had some sort of radar, because as I entered the
bar he was already walking toward me. I had to force myself to stay calm.
Looking at Mark walking toward me was like being in a dream. Everything
and everyone else in the restarunt sort of vanished and we were the only
two people there. It was so incredible to be in the same room with him. He
was as handsome as his picture had seemed to indicate and I was instantly
familiar with him. He walked up to me and shook my hand like a gentleman,
and said that they had a table waiting for us if we wanted to go there
directly. I don't remember answering him but I suppose I did.
As we were walking toward the dining area I was hyper aware of his hand on
my back. The heat of his body seemed to penetrate through the dress and
spread through me. I wanted to turn toward him and walk into his arms. I
wanted to press myself against him and feel his realness against my skin.
I kept forcing myself to remember that this time, this wasn't merely my
imagination, this was real! As we were seated at the table, I had to stop
myself from scooting my chair over closer to him. My hand seemed drawn to
his. I kept reaching for him, touching his hand, running my fingertips
over his sleeve. I couldn't keep my hands off him.
Just touching this mans skin was arousing me. To feel my hand slide up his
forearm, to slide my foot up his pant leg under the table, made me quiver
with longing. My pussy ached with the need to feel his cock filling it.
Staring across the table, and seeing him sitting there, a real man, a
physical being, was something I had longed for, for all these weeks.
Halfway through the dinner, I realized what a mistake we had made by
deciding to meet in a public place. I wanted to get up and come around the
table, pull his cock out of his pants and sit astride him. I wanted to
slip my pussy down over his cock and grind it deep into me. I wanted to
wrap my legs around the chair he sat on, and pull myself against him over
and over. It was all I could do not to squirm in my chair as I pretended
to eat. I wanted nothing more to do with food. My body hungered with a
more basic need. As I looked up from my plate, I saw him looking at me
with the same need, written upon his face.
Finally, when dinner was done, and we were walking out of the restaurant,
he pulled me against his side, his arm around me, guiding me through the
maze of tables and chairs. With my body pressed against his, my arm around
his waist, I felt like this was the most natural and right place for me.
Once we made it out into the parking lot, he swung me around in front of
him, his hands on my shoulders. Now facing each other, no table between
us, I felt shy.
Then he leaned his head down and stepped forward, kissing me. As he placed
his lips upon mine, all my shyness evaporated. It was a small kiss at
first, as if we were testing the fit of his lips on mine. But then he
pulled me close, circling my body with his strong arms and pressing me
close. My body molded itself to him, my lips pressed hard to his, my arms
sliding up and cradling his head in my hands. My fingers ran through his
hair, and I pulled his head down closer. My lips opened to his tongue, and
as it slipped in over my teeth, my tongue met it, the two sliding against
one another. I never wanted the kiss to stop. I wished I could climb into
his body through his mouth. I felt all the passions that we had created
and acted out online surge through my body and pour from me onto his lips.
I could never have invisioned the feeling of belonging and need that swept
through me. We sank into the seas of passion, each clinging to the other
as we drowned in the intensity of this first kiss. As we pulled from one
another, suddenly aware of our surroundings, I wanted to throw myself back
against him, and once more feel his arms around me. I felt as if I had
been yanked from a dream, taken away from a place where I was 'right'. We
both looked at one another, stunned by the force of what seemed to be just
the beginnings of so much more to come. I had to shake my head with both
wonderment and disbelief. If that was "just" the first kiss, then I was
not sure I could withstand what was surely to come. But there wasn't a
person on earth that could stop me from finding out! |
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