The first time she had come across a porn blog, she quickly clicked away. To read stories was one thing but to see images was another thing entirely. To read a story was daydream and imagine. To read a story was imagination. But to see a photo...
To see a photo, or gif, or even a video made it real. Made the possibility of it, if even a small possibility, real. So she clicked back the safety of stories. But stories and imagination can only take a person so far. Eventually she had to choose. She could walk away, block the sites and lock the stories and fantasies in away in her brain, or catch a glimpse of how those stories might play out in real life. To see what the various toys actually looked like and confirm that people actually used them on themselves and others; that was the temptation she was fighting against.
And that was the temptation she eventually lost.
But as it goes with all slippery slopes, the images could only hold her curiosity for so long before she began to wonder what it really felt like. Some of it was easy. The pressure and presence of the rope, the waiting for the ice to melt as she felt herself growing wetter and wetter. The clothespins and the vibrations on her clit. The torment of edging and the release of going over the edge. These things were intriguing and easy to do, easy to hide away when friends would stop by.
But still darker pleasures beckoned. Deeper, more well-hidden desires still yearned for a way to be expressed. The images on her screen fueled her imagination. But the fear of discovery kept her from pushing herself any further. And so she would read the stories and browse the images, wondering what it would be like to be one of those girls.
Then she met him. It was an average day for them both. She was out for a walk to clear her mind and he was enjoying a bit of sunshine and green grass during his lunch break. She shyly smiled and said hello as she sat down on the grass to enjoy the day as well, taking her current book out of her bag as she did so. He nodded back and watched her out of the corner of his eye while she settled in. While he tried to be annoyed that she had interrupted his quiet lunch with her presence, he found he didn't much mind her sitting a few feet away. She wasn't chatty and was clearly focused on what she was reading. And it was a great spot. Not out in the open so you didn't run the risk of getting asked to move to an impromptu game of Frisbee popping up. Yet not in the trees so you could be out in the warm sunlight for several hours.
Just as he was about to pack up the remainders of his lunch to head back to work, he saw the baseball heading their direction. A game of catch had started a little way away and the latest thrown had gone awry. And while he saw it coming, she did not. "Damn it," he muttered under his breath as he attempted to lunge forward and catch the ball before it hit either one of them. And while he did catch it, he also tripped over his feet landing just in front of her.
She jumped as he fell, startled at being yanked out of the world of her book. "What?!"
"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you, just didn't want you to get hit." He showed her the baseball which had been about to land on her head before turning around and throwing it back to the teens and reminding them to be more careful.
"Oh, thank you. I totally didn't see it coming. I guess I was too caught up in my book for my own good. I'm Elissa by the way."
"No problem. I'm Greg. What are you reading that has you so focused?"
"Oh just something for a project I'm researching." She showed him the book title, Victims of Abuse and How they Relate to God.
"That looks...heavy."
She left out a small laugh as she nodded. "Yeah, that's a good word for it but it's also insanely interesting, at least to me. But even it couldn't compete with the weather today. It was just too beautiful to stay inside and study. I hope you don't mind the small invasion into your space. It is just so perfect. Well, except for the wayward baseballs!"
"No worries, I get it. And besides, it gave me a chance to be sure I did my good deed for the day by saving your life from said wayward baseballs. And if you ever have need of my services again, you should call." He handed her one of his more detailed business cards which included his personal cell phone number. "I'll be happy to stand guard on beautiful sunny days for you any time you wish." And with that, he had left to go back to his office.
She looked at the card he had handed to her. Gregory T. Fraser, President, Future Funding, LLC. 'Great' she thought to herself, 'a wall street, workaholic, wannabe.' She tucked it into her bag, intending to throw it away when she got home but about it as she dived back into her book.