I woke up way too early today. Dog was barking at some Jehovah's Witnesses at the door. I was too exhausted to get up and answer the door, so I laid there and tried to fall back to sleep. It didn't take me long to realize I wasn't going to be sleeping anymore.
'What the hell,' I say to myself, 'I have to check my mail anyone. Might as well check out a chat room'. I click until I find one in my area. Usually the chat room doesn't matter. Just hang out and meet someone, and avoid those BOTS.
It doesn't take me long to get a few messages. I have my pic on profile. I guess my 5'1" petite frame, my curly blonde hair, big tits (36d), and blue eyes are what guys are looking for.
I don't even have to click on anyone in the chat room, message after message pops up. I click on the profile pics as quickly as I can. Not that I care about whether or not they're cute. I just like to see who I'm chatting with.
Then, you message me. I quickly click on your profile. Damn, you're a soldier. Part of me feels a hurtful pang in my stomach. I'm going through a divorce and my soon to be ex is in the Army too. Of course, I'm also turned on as hell. Because, in your pic, you're wearing a uniform. Who doesn't think a man looks sexy in uniform?
We start chatting, and to my relief, you're in a way different career field. You're also older, yay a grown up! You tell me that you're on R and R from Iraq. That you're out here checking out the next base you're gonna be stationed at. You also mention that you've been cooped up in a hotel by yourself, and was wondering if I'd like to meet for lunch.
At first, I'm a bit apprehensive. I've met people from online. But, I'd normally been chatting to them longer than an hour before I did so. I also think the fact that you've asked me to meet you in your hotel is a bit.....shall we say, dubious.
I figure, it's been a while since I've taken a chance. What the hell. I mapquest where your hotel is, and agree to meet ya.
The hotel is quite a ways away from where I love. But it's cool. I like long drives. Going over to the "better" side of town, I get to see the big beautiful houses that are built into the mountains over there. Of course, I'm not used to going to that side of town, so I make a few wrong turns. But I eventually get there.
I hop in the elevator and take the 6th floor. Fortunately, your room is right near the elevator when I get up there. I hate being lost in hotel hallways. You open the door, and I'm taken aback by how handsome you are. Your profile pic didn't do justice to the intense beauty of your eyes, and to your great smile.
We don't stay in your room for very long. Just long enough for you to grab your smokes and your wallet, then we're off. The Mexican restaurant you've chosen for us to eat at is within walking distance of the hotel, so we head off.
I have a great time at our lunch. You seem to be having a great time, too. You can discuss things and use military terms and I can understand them. We also feed pieces of our tortilla chips to some little birds that keep flying out on the patio that we're eating on. And, our food is awesome.
We sit and talk long after we've finished our meal. But, I'm getting antsy. I feel bad, like I need to show you around a little bit. I ask you if you'd like to go see one of the nearby mountains. You say sure and we're on our way.
We drive around the city, looking for the perfect place. Unfortunately the mountains can't be accessed by the surface streets. So, we decide to drive around for a little bit. Then, you ask if I'd like to go back to your hotel. Just to hang out, that you won't take advantage or trying anything, unless I want you to.
When we get back to the hotel, you politely turn off espn. Thank God! Lol. Although we don't watch tv. We just sit and talk. As we converse, I realize how much I've missed adult conversation. My ex-husband was so much younger, that sometimes, I felt like I was talking to a spoiled child.
You seem so cool and caring. So intelligent and witty. I'm totally having a blast talking to you. Hearing about your family, where you're from, your experiences you had growing up.
I don't remember how it happend. Who kissed whom first. But before I knew it, we were making out. Not raunchy, trashy making out. Chick flick, soft and gentle making out. I feel your warm hands go to my thigh. God it feels so damn good.
Your tongue feels like velvet, guiding itself through my mouth, searching for my tongue. You have to be the best kisser in the world. Damn, I love this. I need this. Hell, I deserve this!