Leeanne's mind was racing: her body awash with wave after wave of both fear and anticipation.
She looked out of the window and down at the silver car, which was now parked in her driveway.
A nervous sigh escaped from somewhere deep within her: allowing the captive air, unknowingly taken hostage with in her, to be finally free again.
It is not too late to back out, she reminded herself.
"God: what was I thinking" the words resound in the back of her mind, "Coffee, it's just coffee, Leeanne."
She watches as the man alights from the driver's seat, surveying his new environment and then raises his head to search the front of the house.
She turned, lowering her head to take one last look at herself and then walks to the front door to let him in.
Slowly she opens the door and peeks outside.
The man: upon observing her coyly looking out from behind the door; smiles at her, winks and says "Hi."
"Hello Claude," she replies; trying to sound more cavalier than she is actually feeling, "Come in."
He does.
She closes the door behind him and suddenly finds herself face to face with the man who has been the instigator of every erotic fantasy she's had over the past 8 months.
She'd met him online and he'd seduced her by introducing her to a hedonistic world she'd never even dreamt existed.
He had been her first virtual lover and together they had designed a world where rules did not exist anymore: his mental visions, which he effectively transferred into her, had set fountains of desire flowing within her.
He'd spoken to her using explicitly descriptive terminology which men do not use around proper ladies and at first he had shocked her to her very foundations.
Then, as her attraction to him increased; the inappropriate wording became arousing; until one night, about 7 months ago, she incorporated the wording into a fantasy she was having about him and came thrice in an hour – which was pretty damn good for her and something which had never happened before.
They had lost touch with each other after Claude had decided to terminate the interaction between them one night whilst online with her.
She'd missed him.
Two weeks ago, whilst online, she had been scrolling down through the myriad of faces and profiles of men in search of someone, anyone, to talk to.
She also spent those same minutes searching for Claude.
She had never quite gotten him completely out of her system and no other man was ever going to equal him in her eyes: she knew that to be true.
She was becoming increasingly bored with the profiles on offer, but read them anyway: still searching for the one man to equal Claude in every way.
She turned the virtual page using the 'next' icon.
There he was and he was online.
"Claude" her head and heart cried out in unison.
The beats of her heart suddenly and unexpectedly picked up pace.
She sat staring at the screen studying every well known feature of his face.
A million questions were racing around in her brain: all wanting immediate answers.
She felt relief. She felt dismay. She felt arousal. She felt fear and then despair as she remembered he did not want to talk to her anymore.
She reached out and touched the monitor, stroking his face gently and sighed.
She leaned forward and placed her upper bodyweight on her arm cradling her chin in her left palm and allowed herself the privilege of the daydream she wanted so much to occur in reality.
The two of them together locked in boundless ecstasy, if even for one night.
At that moment she wanted that more than she wanted her next breath.
She threw caution to the wind and sent him a message of 'hello' to test the waters between them and to see if would indeed talk to her.
To her absolute delight Claude responded with his predictable but welcoming "Hi."
They had talked online for about half an hour and to Leeanne it was like re-finding a long lost friend.
They continued to talk for the next week every night: and Claude re-introduced her to his particular brand of virtual sexuality which had enthralled her previously.
It wasn't enough for Leeanne this time round.
She still wanted him, but was afraid he might cut and run if he knew: so she devised what she hoped was a smoke screen and invited him round to her place the following evening, for coffee.
Tonight was that night.
He was here and he was going to be all hers.
Claude stood quietly in front of her observing her face, trying to judge her resolve: would she carry this through to its natural conclusion?
He had already taken stock of the outline of her breasts straining against the blue button-up top she had on which left little to the imagination. The denim skirt she wore displaying the length of her legs. He loved the way her dark brown hair fell about her shoulders.
A glint of amusement lit up his eyes and turned up the corners of his mouth as he remembered her invitation. Coffee! She didn't even drink coffee!
He knew exactly what she wanted from him. He was going to tie.......
"Claude" her trembling voice cut through his thoughts like a knife.
He raises his eyes to meet hers.
She reaches out her hand and places it on his chest.
"Do you want something to drink?" she enquires. I sure as hell do, she thinks to herself, as the stirring sensations in her lower abdomen became more intense.
He watches her as she walks away from him, knowing without a doubt in his mind she wants him. She is a little scared and unsure of herself, but she wants him anyway. This is going to be so easy, he tells himself as he follows her into the kitchen. She just needs time.
Leeanne is in the process of opening the bottle of wine when she feels his hands encircle her waist. Her whole body momentarily tenses and she nearly drops the bottle on the bench.
She can feel the entire length of his body pressing up against her own. She doesn't dare move.
She feels him slide his hands upwards and feels his palms first cup, then squeeze her breasts in unison. Involuntarily, she leans back into him and her head rests in the crook of his neck as he continues to move his thumbs back and forth across each swollen nipple. She stops breathing momentarily and raises her eyes to stare blankly at the roof. Not able to hold her breath a moment longer, she exhales: her breathing instantaneously changes to a faster, shallower rhythm.
She turns in his arms wanting more from him than she is getting.
Claude notes the glazed look of passion in her eyes and it nearly breaks his resolve to take things slowly.
He lowers his head and kisses her and feels her immediate responsiveness to his advances; which in turn heightens his own sexual responsiveness.
