The internet has been invented for my personal benefit. I loved the anonymity it offered and the ease with which I was able to talk to people online. I used to search through random profiles on AOL and message guys just to talk to them. I had friends all over the country. In person, I wasn't quite as assertive. I had a small group of friends in real life, both guys and girls, who were of a similar, timid, and geeky mindset. We mostly stayed in, watched movies, shared take out, and reenacted memorized scenes from our favorite Broadway shows, word for word. RENT was at the top of our list back then.
Online dating also seemed like it was meant for me - getting to know the person by typing back and forth was way easier than striking up a conversation at the bar. I had no trouble being the first to message a guy, to start a conversation, or even to suggest we meet in person. I met Jonah on a dating site and we spent a week's worth of late nights chatting over instant messenger before we decided to go out to dinner. He wasn't the first guy I met in person after talking online, it was basically my M.O.
When I first met Jonah, we were fresh out of college, I more recently than he. I spent my days in search of my first full-time job, canvassing the neighborhood schools with resumes in hand, while he utilized his IT degree by doing repairs at an electronics store. The country was in the middle of a recession, we both graduated with massive student loans, and were back to living at home, with our parents.
"So what do you do, as far as you know, hooking up and bringing guys home?" Jonah asked me on our second date. We had gone out to dinner again, a casual Vietnamese place in my neighborhood.
"I don't know yet," I shrugged, drawing in the condensation on my water glass. "I've been home for about two months now and I've been on two first dates with guys whom I never saw again, so it hasn't come up yet."
"Well, are your parents like... open-minded about these things or not so much?" I had to laugh at that.
"Not so much. No, wait, let me rephrase this, not at all." Jonah smiled at my response, twirling noodles onto his chopsticks. "I don't think they are so naive as to think I'm still a virgin," I lowered my voice on that phrase, "I had a boyfriend in college for over two years and I am sure they assumed things were serious there, but I can't just waltz past them with a guy and shut the door to my room." We lived in a tiny two-bedroom apartment. My room was literally through the kitchen and I had no lock on my door. Even if my parents were to look the other way, I wouldn't feel comfortable having sex with a guy when they were right there. "What do you do?" I asked Jonah. He's been out of college for over a year now and probably figured things out a little better than I had.
"I have a car," he smirked.
We made out in his car that night, parked in the street a block from my house. I liked him. A lot. Jonah was a bit different from my two most recent boyfriends in college who were both of a similar body type - about 5'10, thin and lanky. Jonah was a bigger guy, over six feet tall, broad, and solidly built. He had a great smile too, this confident, but not overly cocky grin that always pulled to the right. He had a way of taking charge without being aggressive or overbearing.
He drove an old, 1995 Toyota Avalon that had a front bench seat, which was pretty helpful in facilitating fooling around in the car. Jonah unbuckled my seatbelt and scooped me towards him with an arm around my waist. I wasn't a tiny, size zero girl. I liked to joke about how I was a perfect 10, cause that was my size in pants and dresses, and I felt pretty comfortable with my size. The way Jonah's arm wrapped around my body though made me feel slighter and more petite than I had with anyone else. We spent a good amount of time kissing, my lips feeling swollen and tender afterward, and his hands embarked on some explorations of my breasts over my shirt and bra, but it didn't go any further on that date.
"Wear a skirt next time, ok?" He winked at me before I got out of the car and he walked me the block to my house, holding my hand.
It made my thighs clench thinking about what he'd do if I had a skirt on. And I looked forward to finding out.
He picked me up when he got off from work at 8 pm and we got some food at the neighborhood diner. He wore a blue cotton polo with the company logo on it tucked into a pair of khakis and yet I still found him totally sexy. The way the tapered band of his sleeves hugged his biceps and emphasized his thick arms was definitely a turn-on. I was already fairly excited, just thinking about what we might do that night, in his car, after dinner. I felt flushed and slightly nervous with anticipation and had packed a condom in my purse, in the discrete, zippered pocket inside. Just in case.
I've only slept with two guys before this and both of them I dated for a good period of time before we had sex. This was only my third date with Jonah, but I thought if it happened, it happened. I wouldn't mind it.
"I love your dress, it's perfect," he told me close to my ear as we walked out of the diner. His hand rested on the small of my back, sending heat through my whole body.
"Thanks," I smiled up at him. I had worn a floral button-down dress that, at first glance, was rather modest and conservative. The scoop neckline didn't plunge too deeply and it came down to past my knees. But he probably noticed, when I stood up, that the buttons ended mid-thigh and the rest of the length was an open slit. Not to mention the fact that they were real, functional buttons that could be unfastened.
Jonah talked about some crazy customer he had today while he drove, taking the streets at first, then getting onto the highway. Almost as soon as he got on the Belt Parkway he was pulling off again. The sign boasted scenic views of the Verrazano Bridge when he pulled into the small parking lot along the promenade. I've been to the promenade many times, especially when I was younger, taking walks with my parents, bringing my rollerblades to skate along the water. It was a walking distance from my house but stretched along the water for several miles. There was a single line of parking spaces and Jonah pulled into one that had empty spots on both sides before cutting the engine.
He executed the same move as last time, unbuckling my seatbelt and pulling me over to himself with an arm around my waist. The streetlights pointed out over the highway leaving the lot in semi-darkness, but I could see that crooked smile on Jonah's face as he leaned in to kiss me. He knew exactly what he was doing with that mouth and tongue and it had me tingling all over. His large hands held onto me firmly, thumbs brushing over my nipples.
"Why don't you undo a few buttons for me, Liv." His voice was deep, almost a growl. My fingers worked quickly to give him access to my breasts. His hand slipped inside, behind me, unsnapping my bra with one hand, blindly, then cupping my breast in his hand while the other hand pushed the hem of my dress up my thigh. . "This is a fucking awesome dress," he concluded.
His touch was sensational, the way his fingers rolled my nipple with one hand and pressed against my seam, through my panties with the other. I felt like I was splayed out for him against the seat of the car, my head tipped back while his mouth and hands worked me over in tandem.
"Do you like this?" He spoke so close to my lips I could almost feel his moving. I nodded rapidly. "Tell me."
"I like everything you're doing," I pushed the words out breathlessly.
"Good. Do you want me to finger your pussy?" I could feel my face flushing and I nodded again. "Words, Liv, I want to hear you say it." His tone was assertive but calm.
"Yes," I told him. I've never been exceptionally verbose during sex, never really made much sound at all and the other guys have never commented on it nor tried to get me to vocalize, but Jonah wanted words, more words than I was offering.
"Tell me," he chuckled, stroking a hand down my cheek. "Say, 'Jonah, finger my pussy.'" He prompted me. I felt a lump in my throat, some form of embarrassment washing over me at having to say those words out loud. I bit my lip, hesitating. He waited, rubbing his fingers over my panties, his eyes on mine.
"Jonah, finger my pussy," I finally repeated after him, in a barely audible whisper, "please," I added.
"Sure, sweetheart. You asked me so nicely," he stroked my cheek again and kissed my lips, pushing my panties aside and sliding his fingers through my sopping wet folds.
Ok, I couldn't deny it, that definitely did something for me too, talking to him this way. One of his thick fingers slipped inside me and it felt absolutely amazing. He pulled away slightly and worked on opening his fly with the one hand that wasn't in me. I reached a hand out to help him, tugging the zipper down. His hard cock jutted out against the thin fabric of his boxers, being released from the restraints of his pants. He added a second finger inside me, making it really hard to concentrate on anything else, but somehow I managed to get a grip on his erection and pull it out through the fly of his boxers. He groaned.
"Can you feel how hard you already have me, Olivia?" He breathed into my ear. "What are you gonna do with this, huh?"
I still felt too timid to find my own words to respond to him. I stroked my hand over his cock, realizing how much bigger he was than the other guys I had been with and that thought nearly tripped me over the edge. My eyes closed, my head tipping back against the seat again.
"You're so close, aren't you? You're gonna come for me, babe?" He continued talking to me. I think I let out some sort of a sound in confirmation, somewhere between a moan and a word. He added the perfect amount of pressure to my clit with his thumb and I was coming. I felt my thigh twitch as an explosion of pleasure rocked through my body. "That's it, come for me, sweetheart." His encouragement seemed to ignite another intense wave of orgasm. "God, you feel so tight coming on my fingers, I can't wait to feel you coming all over my cock."
I definitely didn't anticipate that someone talking dirty to me would be such an incredible turn-on. It came so naturally to him, the words just rolled off his tongue in a fluid, organic manner that didn't seem like a put-on or acting.
I redirected my attention to his cock, stroking it firmly, rubbing my thumb over the tip, while he played with my nipples. In a rare moment of initiative, I leaned over his cock and took it into my mouth.
"Holy shit, that's good!" He shifted, his arms spread out on the back of the bench seat in both directions, his legs spread wide in a posture of being entirely relaxed, and I moved up onto the seat, on my knees, next to him, my head bobbing in his lap. I was mentally preparing myself for swallowing cum when Jonah rubbed my back, asking, "Do you wanna go for a ride?"
It took me a second to realize he meant sex. I didn't reply immediately, a hint of doubt bouncing through me like a pinball. But I really did want to. This had been fun and despite already having a major orgasm delivered by Jonah, I was still incredibly horny and craving more. I lifted my head off his cock to look at his face and nodded. He smiled, his lips pulling to the right.
