His heart skipped, and he could feel it beating more rapidly. There, on their private website, was a beautiful picture of his girlfriend's mons, tastefully enveloped in a pair of baby blue panties. He remembered telling her he loved baby blue, and he wished he had had more time to share his fantasies with her. He could see a dark mound inside. Dark hair? No. She was always clean shaven, it must just be a lovely shadow that outlined the area he wished he could reach out and touch. Just a little touch. A little stroke. With his middle finger, so gently. He could stand behind her, and fondle her so gently as she breathed and kissed his neck. He knew she would love it if he would take his finger and lightly, so delicately, use it to part the lips of her vagina and tease her, and then slowly tease her further.
He liked to look. The panties were not too tight, but not too loose, either. They fit the perfect little pelvic region between her legs like a smooth, comforting glove. His penis felt hot, began to get hard. He could just imagine how amazing it would be to gently put his hand on that sweet, warm pocket. No hair, just a beautiful little mound, warm, sensual, wet within moments. He sighed. He missed her intensely, but they were destined to never meet again. They were not terribly distant; she in Chicago, and he in Cheyenne, but they knew they had to keep their distance. It didn't mean that he couldn't look, however. That was what they shared: He liked to look, she liked to be looked at by him. A fantasy only. In fact, all the longing in the world was not going to put this back together. He was married, she was married, they were both devoted to their families. Yet, they pined. Could it be that the pining was part of the fantasy? He didn't know, all he knew was that he felt drunk with wanting every time he had the most minimal contact with her.
"Must not cross barriers," he muttered to himself, at the same time feeling his throat burning with longing.
How long had it been this time, since their last contact? Over two months, he realized. Another sigh. Eh, it was a sad situation, but life wasn't that bad. His wife was a beautiful person, his ex-girlfriend was comfortable in her life, apart they were doing okay in their lives, handling this secret they shared, that they were still drawn to each other. They managed it in awkward lurches forward and back, mostly back. She had tried to break it off several times at first, and finally begged him to do the heavy lifting because she could not allow herself to contemplate a life without him in some small way. Now he returned to thinking about her pussy, how he would place that whole hand in between her legs, move it gently in a small circle, watch her writhe. He had the strength to make her arousal incredibly erotic, a slow dream.
He had felt such enormous guilt about his marriage that he resolved to part with her permanently, and had managed it for the last two months; first, by de-friending her on Facebook, and then by writing her a note that despite his feelings for her, he would never contact her again. You can't get more final than that. She threw the girlfriend-requisite Hail Mary of opening the door to friendship. Yes, in a perfect world, friendship. But there are some people we cannot be friends with. Oh, certainly, this woman was a good person, but he knew he could not control himself around her. She would behave like a lady, she would do anything he wanted her to do, but that was part of the problem, she might do anything he wanted, and in a moment of weakness, all the trust he had built in his marriage would be devastated; once he was around her, he would not want a lady, he would want a lover who would gently seduce him but then maul him, take him apart, lick him everywhere, put her mouth on every part of him, and he imagined himself throbbing inside her within moments of encountering her again. He was uncertain whether she had the strength to behave like a lady and say "No" to him, and he knew he could not even manage the guilt of being in her presence, knowing how attracted he was to her. So, he would only look.
It had been twenty years since they had last been in physical contact. They were children when they had been together, and as a young boy he had broken up with her. Why stay with one girl in a school full of beautiful girls? He had grown bored with her and wanted to see what life was like out there. So, he broke up with her and found his head turned by several pretty young things. Why then, did his thoughts always return to her? As time went by, memories of why exactly he needed to leave someone out of boredom grew dim and distant, and he began to reflect on her good qualities. She certainly loved him back then.
It seemed that after all these years, also, they shared an unusual hobby: sending each other erotic pictures. "Has this ever happened to other people?," he thought. The mind growing cloudy, and a person being unable to focus on their life and family? Perhaps. Perhaps they were addicted to each other - she certainly believed there was some brain chemistry involved. Although he cut her off from his Facebook site, he told her he would occasionally check the site they had set up for just the two of them. He loved his wife, wanted to be a good husband, and the ex-girlfriend respected him, so although she said she would send him notes on the site, she left him alone for over two months. She sent some letters of pain for the first three or four days, but then stopped corresponding, not even tapering off, wanting to honor his wishes. He could see from her site that she was still talking with friends, participating in life, and he wondered if she thought of him.
And now, this beautiful affirmation, this perfect mons, a glorious place to place his hand, put two fingers, maybe three, so delicious. It was about sex, but it felt loving. She cared enough to put a sweet little cupcake in the window for him to lick his lips over.
His wife was coming into the room. He shut the computer off, and smiled at her. Nothing was going to rock his existence, it was just a private little treat for him. He decided he would wait until he was alone, then open up the site and revisit the sweet little mound. His little sugary confection lived thousands of miles away, and was very involved in her own life. She was a therapist, with a husband who owned an investment firm. Their worlds had nothing to do with one another, and she was far too much of a lady to stalk him. But she didn't mind pursuing him in this harmless little hobby they shared. After all, as she had said, they were, to put it in technical terms, "screwed". They would never be able to physically be together. And that might have ratcheted up the fantasy. After all, on the Internet, all things are possible. Everyone is perfect.
Affairs are always perfect until someone wants more. Even Internet affairs could lead to disaster. In this case, the disaster was only in their hearts, but it was painful enough for him to want to shut it down permanently, and she understood. She seemed - stronger than him, somehow, even though he was in the military, and had a quick mind. But after receiving letters from her during their break-up, he knew it still bothered her greatly when they first reunited and were in heavy contact. It was very difficult for them to have any kind of communication, because they would both get so excited, so hot. He understood, therefore, why he had received this beautiful mons, with no words attached. What can one say?
"You want to have fun, you want to be with me, it is painful for both of us, but I look great, in this moment, and I want you to see me. Someday, you, me, your wife, my husband, God willing, we'll all be in our eighties," she said to him once. "I am happy I look like this now, but I won't some day. You like to look, I like to be looked at."
