The Knock

This story was written for a friend who prefers to remain anonymous. It's a story that could happen to any of us under the same circumstances.

* * * * *

I heard the knock at the door and shivered slightly, suddenly afraid. What had started as an innocent, on-line exchange was instantly real.

Time. It was all about time. Time for children, time for work, time for home, time for parents with failing health. In the end there was no time for me. Am I angry or even upset? No, it was just the way it had to be.

But now I found I had time. A new found freedom that let me explore the world that had developed all around me. One day while doing some research on the computer, I decided to see what all the talk was about chat rooms. I figured out how to register and decided to cruise through a few. Some were amusing. Reading what others wrote for all to see. Some were absolutely wild. There was one with a captivating name. The gist was, "I may be married, but I'm not dead yet."

I read for a while and enjoyed reading the interaction and the flirting that was going on. Then a message popped up on my screen.

It began so simply. I sent a short polite response to that message. The next day he sent another e-mail acknowledging mine, filled with small talk. I responded. He was so easy to talk to. Slowly the volume built until it was an almost daily event, something to look forward to in an otherwise very mundane life. Then I realized that the messages were becoming longer and maybe even a little personal. The exchange began innocently enough, and then slowly began to become a little flirtatious. It was fun to play the game, even if it might be a little 'naughty'. Two people, far apart, passing notes back and forth like we might have done in school as children.

I chuckled as I read his messages. What a pleasure it was to have met. Nothing could happen, could it? Soon it was easy to exchange a little more personal information, something a little more intimate. It was like I knew him, an old friend - so easy, so likeable. Why shouldn't we talk?

Then came the first phone call. I know I stuttered and stammered, filled with anxiety. The longer we talked, the more I wanted to hear his voice. I felt the soothing sounds calming me. He reminded me of our messages back and forth and, just like those messages, the conversation became more personal. When he called again, I wanted to hear more. It had become a lifeline, filling a void I couldn't identify, but so comforting. I began looking forward to hearing from him. The days when I didn't hear from him were anxious ones until the next time. He was a voice to identify now. The calls continued and became more frequent, replacing the e-mailed letters. We talked of family, friends, sadness, joys and needs. It was the needs that bonded us - emotionally and, yes, even the reality of unmet physical needs. We tried to understand more about each other. The time became too short and the conversations became more personal as we poured out our souls to each other. I found myself so needy that I would even share my physical intimacies with him. That was when I realized there was so much more we needed to share. He told me that the sound of my voice and descriptions of what aroused me made him cum. And I found myself wanting that. Wanting that power to make him spill his seed as he thought of me with him - for the pleasure of hearing him gasp as he reached orgasm. He begged me to tell him what he could say that would bring me to that elusive peak. I wouldn't tell him. I couldn't tell him of the hours alone in bed when the thought of him would bring me to the edge. I never crossed the line and allowed myself to go all the way. He encouraged, teased and assured me that I needed to let him take me there, but I couldn't bring myself to take that final step.

When I learned that my travels would take me within four hours of him, I stammered out the news. He begged me to tell him when and where we could meet. I knew I couldn't, but as the date neared and his pleading increased, I had to tell him. I knew it was impossible, but even the discussion of whether or not we should meet were exciting. Did I dare go through with it? My nights were filled with the same anxiety I had felt when he had not called. Finally I resolved my problem. I told him that if he wanted to meet me it would be at the Hampton Inn in Arlington on the 23rd, less than a week away. Now the phone calls became filled with "what ifs," and passion. We both knew the possibility of disappointment, but he wouldn't allow it to exist. Our talks turned to that first touch that first kiss. We knew that more intimate moments would follow. By this time we knew what magic turned each other on and what we wanted from each other. We didn't share pictures, depending instead on instinct and the visual images our minds had formed of each other.

When I arrived in town and got to the hotel, I looked at the phone for a long time. If I made this call, it was the last chance for either of us to back out with no ill feelings. Finally, heart beating as rapidly as it had the first time I heard his voice, I called him. I offered him the opportunity to say no. I couldn't and, having gone this far, he didn't have the courage to take that opportunity either. After getting off work he was coming by for a couple of hours that day, but we scheduled the entire next evening to spend with each other.

Then there was the knock at the door. With my hand on the knob, I opened it slowly. He stood there, expectantly, and I asked him one last time if he was sure. He said "Yes" and I stepped back allowing him completely inside. He stepped through the door, his eyes looking at me as though he wasn't certain I really existed. I could do no more either. There he stood, literally a stranger, a man I had never seen and who had come to make love to me. Closing the door softly behind him, he reached out to me and pulled me into his arms. In that hallway, with my knees trembling so hard I wasn't certain they would hold me, he kissed me. Suddenly everything came together. The touch of his lips on mine, the feeling of his body against me sent the passion I had bottled up for so long to its peak. It was like a new birth and our kiss lingered as we searched each other's mouth for the truth. Pulling back for a moment I asked him to say something - it was his voice I wanted to hear. He spoke my name and told me how beautiful I was as he pulled me back into his arms.

Standing in that entry way, he began to undress me. Feverish fingers found each others buttons, unable to resist any longer or maintain any semblance of control. He kissed my shoulders, letting my dress fall to the floor. His hand pressed my breast out of my bra and his lips closed over the nipple, bringing it to an immediate erection while his other hand covered my other breast. He was covering me with kisses down my body, pressing me farther into the room. Only the bed prevented me from falling to the floor. It caught me behind my knees and I pulled him down with me. His lips trailed down my stomach. I felt his hands tugging at my panties until one foot was free, then the heat of his mouth going lower. His hands were on my breasts, gently squeezing them as his tongue slipped between lips engorged with passion and into the valley of delights. I was gasping at the erotic sensations his hands and mouth were sending through my body. Then he was on his knees, between mine, with his tongue buried in my pussy, sending tremors through my body at each touch. The shudders of my uncontrolled passion continued as I felt his tongue raking the depths, touching me in places I had so longed for him to taste. I found both my hands in his hair, pulling him tighter and tighter against lips engorged with passion.

I couldn't stand it any longer. I reached down and pulled him up on the bed with me. He was reluctant to leave my pussy. I hitched myself higher on the bed as he lay down beside me. We spoke the little reassurances to each other and then his hands were exploring my body once more, spreading my legs, lifting them to put his head between my thighs once again. I couldn't resist him, nor did I want to. His tongue began making love to me once more. Each touch was electric and I soon came with such force it seemed to take control of my entire body.

As I calmed and my thoughts began to clear, I turned and faced him, knowing that what he wanted was the same from me. He knew my intentions and pulled himself higher on the bed as I slid lower. I took his cock into my mouth and began to move my lips up and down slowly and deliberately. My tongue massaged his cock and it jerked at each touch. With both hands I reached down and cupped his balls, lightly massaging and rolling them from one hand to the other. I could hear his uncontrollable moans and sounds. They served to encourage me to continue. He reached down and ran his fingers through my hair and touched me gently. Then he was pulling me to him and laying me down on the bed, he put his body over mine. We were looking into the depths of each other's eyes as he began to slowly push his cock into my pussy. Never looking away from each other's eyes, we began to move first together and then away from each other, enjoying each touch, each feeling, each movement until finally the passion overcame both of us. He began to move harder and faster as I moved in rhythm with him. Finally in a moment of total abandon, he came and filled my hungry pussy with the warmth of all the cum his cock could release in short throbbing spasms.

After a few minutes, as we lay holding each other, we each spoke one word, "Hello."