A Question of Trust

She considered it a relationship, although, to some other people it wouldn't have merited the title, especially since she had never actually seen her significant other in the flesh even once. The feelings were real though, the butterflies she got in the pit of her stomach every time they chatted told her as much. Her friends had told her frequently that she shouldn't go pinning her hopes on the impossible, she was being gullible and that there was a great likelihood that she was being duped. Their words fell like water off a duck's back.

"Do you trust me?"

Her fingers had been resting gently on the keyboard, but drew away sharply at the question. He had never asked before, and although she had never been given reason to distrust him, she still had to ponder on the question before answering. Was it possible to trust a person that you had never seen in the flesh? It was an undeniable fact that he made her feel emotions that she had never though possible with just the words he typed on the screen. Added to that, there were times that they typed the same things at the same time. Her stomach somersaulted as soon as she saw him signing into his messenger; she couldn't say the wrong thing now, there was too much to lose as far as she was concerned.

"Yes, I think so." She typed in response and waited.

"Enough to consider meeting me? It's Valentine's soon, I was hoping to spend it with you." The question of them meeting had arisen a couple of times, but she had always assumed, that it was just that – talk. Still though, it being Valentine's added weight to the argument, and she certainly didn't want to spend it sitting in her bedroom waiting for him to come online. Her heart seemed to beat louder than ever in her chest as she contemplated her answer.

"I don't think I can." She typed with reluctance, this, she couldn't promise. Reality had to figure somewhere when it came right down to it; there had been stories recently on the news about the nasty side of online chatting.

"Can't or won't Eilidh? We've been chatting on here for months; we've had more highs and lows than some couples go through in an entire marriage, are you not curious to see if the spark we share on here is the same in reality?" She stilled and the silence felt overwhelming as she thought about what he had said, what she would say next and how she would get out of meeting without upsetting him.

"Do you think that what we share just now would carry on in the same way if we did meet and there was no physical attraction. Our friendship means so much to me, I'd be a fool to want to risk that; perhaps foolish too for not wanting to take that leap." She closed her eyes, not wanting to see what he would say in return.

Jack had been the first person that she had had a proper private conversation in a chat room with; the only one that she had dared to share any of her thoughts and dreams with and the only one she had ever exchanged photos with. He had been there whenever she needed someone to talk to, no matter how mundane the problem; he understood. Then there was cybering; she had had to plead ignorance when the other people in the chat-room had mentioned it in the passing. Jack had introduced her to a whole new world with that one and she looked forward to the late evenings spent exploring each other, setting out scenes that were far removed from the drudgery of real life; sometimes ending the onscreen chat with a quick phone call where he coaxed her higher than she dared believe, leading her into a mind-shattering release. His words were unhurried, erotic and sensual, giving her something that she had never found with any one of her previous boyfriends.

"You could spend a lifetime dreaming of what might have been if you don't take a chance Eilidh; the spark might not be there in reality, but what if it is? We could take the time to explore some of these fantasies of yours. We could be a real couple this Valentine's night. Imagine what it would be like to be romanced and taken care of the way you deserve to be, made love to like you need to be."

Heat flooded her face as she thought of the more explicit fantasies that she had shared with him. There was her desire to be watched by complete strangers while she had sex and group sex, even a gentle brush with another woman. Her mind was turning to mush with all her wandering thoughts, and it was doing nothing to settle Jack's request.

"I'm not sure Jack."

"You said you trusted me, do you think I'd do anything to jeopardise that? Believe me when I say I wouldn't."

Although she was in turmoil, she realised one thing; this might me the man that was meant for her, and maybe this Valentine's night, she wouldn't be made to feel like the only single person on the face of the planet.

"Well, alright, but you have to promise me one thing. Nothing on here changes if things don't go the way we expect when we do meet; our friendship mustn't suffer." There was no going back now; she was resolute.

"I'm sure what we share is strong enough to survive whatever happens when we meet. I'll take a few days off and we can share a long weekend together, I can stay in a hotel, that way you won't feel obliged to put me up."

She was powerless to stop the nerves she felt as they discussed what they would do when they met and she realized quickly that fantasy and reality were worlds apart. In the end, it was agreed that to begin with, they would just meet for drinks; if all went well then who knew what would happen.

With only six days to go till she met Jack, and just seven until Valentine's she found that the days were dragging slower than ever. During working hours it was impossible not to think of him, she couldn't wait to get home to her computer in case he was there waiting for her to log on, only settling when she saw him online. The drive would take him the best part of four hours, but he didn't mind in the slightest. He'd already managed to book a room in a hotel near to where she lived, in fact if she craned her head far enough out of her bedroom window, she could see the roof of it in the distance. The one thing she hadn't given him as yet, was her private address, nor would she until she had met him and she was absolutely sure that she was doing the right thing.

The following Thursday she logged on and waited somewhat impatiently for him to sign in to his messenger. Her palms were sweaty, her mind racing through the possibilities of what might happen the next day when they would meet for the first time. Time ticked by slowly, but at last he appeared, offering his apologies for being a bit late; he had spent his time packing for the trip. This she took as a positive sign of him not backing out and it pleased her immensely; she needed assurances, however small they might be. As they chatted, she found herself relaxing more and more, her attention diverted by his suggestion that they explore one of her favourite fantasies.

"There are lots of people that share your fantasy Eilidh. They meet up in specific locations just to indulge themselves. Imagine what that would be like. Lots of people watching you being fucked, close to you, not touching you until you say it's okay; you could close your eyes but they would still be there watching, getting turned on by what you're doing."

She was slipped a little further down in her chair at his words, the slightly rough material of the seat creating a friction against the backs of her bare legs, reminding her that she had forgotten to pull her shorts on after her shower. Her eyes wandered from the screen, to the side of the monitor where the phone sat; her fingers itched to pick it up, to call him, but it was too soon. The calls they shared were always better when they had turned themselves on so much that typing legibly was completely impossible.

"I'd love to watch other people having sex while I do; the more cautious people, fucking with their clothes on, giving everyone the briefest glimpses of flesh, watching as they struggle to hold back their screams when they climax." She typed.

She felt a small tingling throb start between her legs and knew that even although they had barely started, she was getting wet.

"Would you be the cautious type Eilidh? Would you let me strip you naked and bend you over the bonnet of the car so that your tits are mashed against the cold metal? Would you let me spread your legs wide, letting everyone see your dripping gash just before I fucked it? Or would you prefer to be inside the car, letting me play with you through your clothes, having to pull your g-string to one side so that I could fuck you?"

She thought about his questions and knew if she was being totally honest with herself that if he were with her, then either would be good.

"I'd love to have you watch me play with myself, not being able to touch me, even when I start to cum and am screaming out for you to fuck me. I would love to be watched, to know that there are people within arms reach that want to touch me, but they have to hold back, I want to know that they are getting turned on by what I'm doing, I'd love to know that what I do excites them and then... when I'm coming down, you take charge, dominating me, stripping me bare, forcing me to take your cock in my mouth, pushing me to my knees..."

Her breathing was growing shallow; the throb of her clit was growing more insistent, begging for her touch, her nipples were like hard little pebbles pushing against the thin silk of her bra.

"You want me to call you, don't you Eilidh? You want to hear me tell you how I would drag you out of the car, making everyone circle us as I strip your clothes off you, forcing you to your knees in front of me, pushing my cock against your mouth, grabbing handfuls of your long hair in my hands. Would your moans be louder with an audience? How would you react if there were someone else there to hold your head as I fuck your mouth? Would you struggle and try to get away, or would you be begging for their touch too?"

Her thighs parted and she slid her hand down over her stomach, to her neatly trimmed pussy, pushing her index finger through the slightly puffy outer lips, finding the hard little nub of her clit, slippery wet and slick.

"I'd love to feel the grass under my knees, my mouth filled with your cock, looking up as you look down at me. I would love to feel someone behind me, another woman, naked like me, her nipples brushing against my back, whispering in my ear as I suck on you, her hands cupping my tits, playing with my nipples, touching me the way only another woman knows how to. I need to know what you taste like Jack."

What she needed now, was something that words on a screen couldn't give her, even if they were from Jack, she need to hear him. She leaned forward and pulled open the desk drawer, her hand delving inside, fist closing around the shaft of her favourite vibrator, watching the screen for his next words.

"God, just think Eilidh, it could all be ours tomorrow, what I wouldn't have given some nights to be able to touch your skin, or the nights when we've chatted and I could almost feel you here with me."

Her mouth felt dry, as she spread her thighs, her eyelids heavy as she slid the head of the vibrator along the sensitive skin of her inner thigh, gasping softly as she let the cold phallus pause briefly at her dripping hole. She was powerless to stop the shudder of pleasure that ran through her body as she plunged the entire length straight inside, muscles clamping and grasping at the long thick invader. Letting go of the base of the vibrator for a few seconds, she placed her fingers on the keyboard, typing only two words.

"Call me."

--

As she stretched beneath her duvet, Eilidh forgot for a moment that this was the day that she would be meeting Jack for the first time; glancing quickly at the bedside clock as the realisation that what happened later that day could possibly be the culmination of months of sometimes very erotic chat. She felt herself blush as her glance fell on the computer sitting in the corner of the bedroom, chair pushed back and her vibrator left neglected on the desk like some kind of novelty mouse. Jack had taken her higher than ever before with the call the previous night, maybe because reality was so close; her cries and moans had been louder, her whispered words dirtier, said with more passion than before, hearing his release alongside her own had been a final affirmation of his feelings.

It was seven o'clock, the dawn chorus had been sung hours before and the sounds of traffic on the street outside were beginning to penetrate, along with the clanking of milk bottles on the doorstep and the thud of mail on the mat behind the front door; it was a momentous day for her, but by the sounds of it, the world hadn't stopped in recognition of it.

By nine o'clock she knew that Jack would have already left his home, but they wouldn't be meeting up until later that evening. It meant that she had enough time to nip into town to choose a present for him; not that she had anything firm in mind for him. Truth be told, she had never been in the position of having a partner of any description on Valentine's Day. The shops where all outdoing each other in the gaudy and tacky stakes; the cheesy hearts and flowers displays were definitely not her cup of tea. She would have to be a bit more original. She dressed quickly and drove into town, parking near a small jewellery shop at the far end of the high street.

It seemed to take forever but she soon found a ring in heavy antique silver, an intricate Celtic design that she was sure he would like; far better that than an oversized bear or something impersonal like aftershave. Finding an appropriate card proved to be more of a task, she didn't want it to be too gushy, not overtly sexual, but sincere enough to convey the feelings she held for him. With her purchases stowed away in her bag she made her way back to where she had parked the car, noticing just how many couples filled the streets, as if Cupid himself had turfed them out of their homes, to crowd the streets on the eve of their special day. Certainly the advertising alone made you feel like a leper if you were alone.

Back home she managed to swallow down some toast; breakfast had been forgotten in the rush to get into the town, but she barely tasted it and discarded the crusts quickly before heading up the stairs to her bedroom. The contents of her wardrobe lay scattered over her bed scant minutes later, most of it discarded as unsuitable for the occasion. When it came right down to it, she had no idea what she would wear, apart from her underwear that was; that part had been easy, she had spotted the matching black lace push-up bra and g-string a couple of days before and had bought it on impulse. It would be perfect should their meeting progress to a more intimate level.

In the end she settled for an almost demure black skirt that grazed a couple of inches above her knees, a tit-hugging little black top, sheer black stockings and a pair of leather heels. Very sombre looking, but she loved the way wearing stockings made her feel and the way her legs looked when she wore her heels. Day to day, she only ever wore flats, more practical from a work perspective.

After throwing the discarded clothes back into the wardrobe, she laid her chosen outfit on the bed; there were hours until she would need to get dressed. Instead she went back downstairs and threw herself into cleaning up the house, making it look respectable enough to receive guests, not that she had made up her mind to let Jack back to the house or anything, but there was always the possibility, however remote. He would already be halfway into his journey, only two hours way and all she wanted to do was call him, but the last thing he would need would be her distracting him from the road.

As the hands of the clock inched round, she stood by the lounge window, looking out onto the leafy tree-lined street and further into the distance towards the town, and the rooftop of the hotel that he was booked into. She was sorely tempted to go over to it, hiding within sight of the main entrance, maybe catching a glimpse of him as he arrived, but the thought was dismissed quickly, she wasn't a stalker. To take her mind off matters she turned on the radio, losing herself for a time in the upbeat music that was playing.

When at last the call did come, she hesitated for four rings before picking it up, breath held, she knew it was him before anything was said, but as soon as she heard his voice, relief flooded through her.

"I can't quite believe I'm here Eilidh, somehow it doesn't feel real." His voice was soft, tinged with a slight nervousness that she felt mirrored in herself.

"I know what you mean hun, but it is and I hope you're feeling at least half as nervous as I am right now." Her voice wavered and there was nothing she could do to stop herself shaking.

"Sweetheart, you have no idea, my hands were shaking on the steering wheel all the way up, lord knows why, I mean, what's the worst that could happen? We're friends and nothing will change that." What he was saying definitely made sense.

"I guess you're right Jack, if we have nothing but friendship at the end of the day, then we haven't really lost anything by this at all have we?" She would have to focus on that fact, if they weren't going to take things further, but she felt that he completed her in a more intimate way, even just online. It might have been wrong of her, but she had kind of taken for granted that it would be the same for them on a physical level.

"I know I shouldn't do this, I don't want to rush you but do you think we could meet a little earlier than we planned, I can't wait till tonight. I'd be spending all afternoon watching the clock." He said in a rush, as if he had been holding back.

"Okay, how about meeting in an hour? We can meet in the hotel lounge." Her heart started to beat so loudly at that point that she felt sure that he must have been able to hear it too.

"Can you get here that quickly hun, I never stopped to think about how close you might be to here, I know you're somewhere in the vicinity, but that's all."

"Well, from where I'm standing I can see the rooftop of the hotel and it's only about ten minutes walk away so it's safe to say that I can make it for an hour, just gives me enough time to jump in the shower and dress." In her mind she was running down the checklist of things she would have to do to prepare.

"So you're standing there naked right now? Lord, just give me your address and I'll be right over, we'll skip the preliminaries and we'll get right down to it." He laughed and she found herself laughing right along with him.

"Well hell, of course I'm naked, I always am when I know you're going to call love! But I think we'll stick to the new plan and meet in an hour." As tempting as it would have been to drop her guard and give him her address, she knew it wasn't the wisest of ideas.

A couple of minutes later, after a battle of wills to see who would hang up first, she replaced the receiver and sprinted up the stairs, switching on the shower while she stripped out of the raggedy t-shirt and shorts she had been wearing, loosening her long hair from its tight binding, shivering as the long red-gold strands tickled their way down her spine, settling halfway down her back. It was only when she stepped beneath the hot pounding spray of the shower that she gave into the thoughts she had firmly placed to the back of her mind when they had first arranged to meet.

What would his first thoughts of her appearance be? Did he have a thing for redheads, pale skin and freckles? She certainly hoped so; not that her hair was the reddest of reds, it was more of a strawberry gold, but she had the sort of freckles that the best of concealing foundations could not cover and she had always felt that her eyes looked a little large for her face, people often commenting on how their startling blue looked a little on the icy side. After shampooing her hair quickly she tilted her head back and let the bubbles rinse away, watching as her breasts were thrust up high, the rosy tipped nipples tightening painfully as a picture of Jack appeared in her mind.