Her Cyber Moment

She had always loved the chase.

She was a predator by nature, enjoying the feeling of power as she flirted with men. Enjoying the way she could make them desire her; want her; need her. The beginning was the best time, when everything was new, when her desire for them was as great as their desire for her.

She remembered that feeling. That feeling of expectation while waiting for them to call. The nervous butterflies in her stomach, the glances at the clock. They always called. Always. Yet still she felt that nervousness, it was that which fed her desire.

She loved being in the moment; the moment when something clicked and she thought 'Mmmm, I want him'. Sometimes it was physical; the breadth of his shoulders, the tightness of his arse; sometimes it was the little things; his smile, the gentle curve of his mouth, the glimmer in his eyes; but often it was something else entirely; the way he brushed his chair before sitting down, his voice, his sense of humour. Those were the best moments, the unexpected ones. And then the chase began.

The moment never lasted long. She would flirt and play with her prey but as soon as they were caught, as soon as they gave themselves willingly to her, she would lose interest. It was the chase she wanted!

Now here she was after a long relationship, where she had given up the chase, single again. Could she really go back to the way things had been; the way she had been, before she had settled into domesticity? She doubted it – and she didn't really want to. Things had changed; she had changed. She still yearned for the chase but without the complications that went with it. And then she met Frank…

She had been to chat sites before, wanting to make a connection with someone, but they just seemed juvenile and detached. She had even experimented with cyber sex but it was unfulfilling. There was no chase involved and no moments to savour. This site, however, was different.

She had gone there almost by chance, not really expecting it to be any different to the others she had visited, and was pleasantly surprised. She had chatted happily, enjoying the chance to be flirtatious with strangers, and then Frank caught her interest. He was different somehow to the other chatters. He had a great sense of humour and his light-hearted banter made her smile. She was in the moment…

Now, weeks later, she was still in the moment. As she drove home from work she thought about Frank, what he might look like, what he might sound like, but most of all she thought about being with him later that night.

Her desire was very real…and it surprised her. She felt like a silly teenager again, experiencing her first big crush. What was it about this mysterious stranger that intrigued her so much? She wanted to spend time with him, talk to him, and get to know him. She also wanted to touch him and feel him touch her.

As she stepped into the shower she remembered their last encounter. The way her body had reacted while reading his words. As the hot water pattered against her skin she thought about his hands touching her. His fingers gently caressing her body. She moved her own hands down to her breasts and imagined that they were his hands. She gently pulled on her hardened nipples and thought about those hands. Would they be as soft and loving as she imagined? Would they brush gently against her skin, causing her flesh to tingle? She imagined them on the back of her neck, stroking, caressing. She imagined his fingers entwined in her hair, sending tiny shivers of pleasure down her spine. His big, soft hands touching her, loving her, pulling her closer to him, closer to his soft, warm mouth…

She pulled herself out of the daydream, blushing at herself for getting so carried away. She didn't even know what he looked like, yet he excited her in a way no other man did. She entered the bedroom and began to towel herself dry. Again her mind returned to their last exchange. What was it about him that made his words reach out to her? She had felt his mouth on hers, soft at first, tender, then his tongue probing, forcing her to open her mouth to him. She had felt his hot breath against her neck as he kissed down her naked body. She trembled at the thought of his lips on her skin, nuzzling her breasts, making her nipples hard and attentive…

Again she pulled herself out of this trance and realized that she had again been fondling her breasts and her nipples were indeed attentive. She gave in to her desire and lay naked on the bed. As she allowed her hands to continue caressing her body she wondered if she had the same effect on him. Did he imagine her naked, standing close to him, touching him? As he read her words could he feel her mouth against his, her desire mounting? She raised her fingers to her mouth and thought about making love to him. Did he feel her lips as they kissed down his body? Did he grow hard thinking about her mouth wrapped around him?

She imagined their bodies, naked against each other, as she continued to coax her nipples into hard peaks. Her hand slid down over stomach and she imagined his hand, reaching down, down to one hip then the other, stroking, caressing. Then moving between her thighs and pausing before one finger delved into the moistness and came back glistening. She widened her legs to accommodate his imaginary hand and her own fingers continued to delve into the warmth. Would he stroke her like this? Would he go slowly, teasing her, playing around her hardening nub while she squirmed? Would he delight in her moans of pleasure as his finger re-entered her, probing further? She could feel her body responding to him, aching for his touch. Her fingers moved faster as she thought about his mouth. Kissing down her body. Moving towards the wetness that awaited. Would he enjoy the taste of her? Would his mouth linger, savoring her?

As her fingers worked steadily, first teasing, stroking, and then delving further she imagined him entering her. She could feel his weight on top of her, his chest against her breasts, his stomach touching hers. Could feel him pausing, enjoying the power he held over her at that moment. Would he enter her slowly, filling her a piece at a time or would he thrust forward, sinking into her? Did he imagine this? Did he feel her fingertips digging into his back as she gasped from the shock of him? She felt his strokes, first slow then becoming more urgent. Her body rose to meet him, her fingers lost in a blur of movement.

She could feel her orgasm approaching. Every muscle in her body, every sinew, every nerve was being drawn to one central point. She imagined him thrusting into her as her body raced towards its climax. Imagined him calling her name as his own tide began to surge. She raised her hips towards him as she imagined him pushing further into her, filling her completely, forcing her over the edge…

She kept her eyes closed as her body relaxed and her heartbeat slowed and she whispered 'Frank…'