N.B. As with all 'Louisa' stories, this is a true and accurate account of what happened. Only the names have been changed. This took place when I was between partners and using a well-known dating site in 2007. Enjoy!
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"Hi Louisa, I've been reading your profile and looking at your photos. You seem like a very exciting woman. I know you say you're only interested in men over 45, but if you meet up with me I'll show you what a younger man can do! Rob."
His profile photo had come up on the internet dating site, and in the dim light of my bedsit, his image glowed alluringly.
"Dear Rob, one of the reasons I prefer older men is because they are not impudent, nor improper, unless I tell them to be..."
For some reason I had slipped into a Dominatrix persona without realising it. I liked this. It could be fun to toy and tease...
"...How old are you, 25? I would chew you up and spit you out before you knew what was coming. Don't waste my time, go find yourself some lithe little thing that you can go out and play with. Kind regards, Louisa"
It would be interesting to see if he responded to this tack. It was difficult to get a realistic impression of the men on this site, or any site for that matter. I had discovered that most people write descriptions of their ideal character rather than admit to the reality of the fact that none of us are perfect. Usually a few years and pounds are taken off, and a few inches added where it matters. Once I met with someone with whom I had exchanged endless witty insightful emails, only to find a podgy, blindingly boring man who had obviously taken hours to compose replies to my glib comments. Another once- only 'date' which I'd been looking forward to as this guy seemed to have a terrific sense of humour, turned out to be an intense nervous character, devoid of any trace of humour, but could quote whole paragraphs from Monty Python, Marx Brothers, you name it.
Oh, the trials of being single again. However, to be honest, I did love the thrill of coming home to the lonely little flat, and turning on the computer to find a deluge of enthusiastic replies or enquiries. I had been with this dating agency for two weeks, and had only met up with one man so far. Due to the very 1-D communication mode, most unusually for me I had failed to pick up on this guy's insecurities, and ended up with the only impotent man I had ever met. Well, naturally he didn't remain impotent that night. I just see impotence as a challenge. Never to be outdone, I gave that happy rotund man the night of his life. Still, having vanquished that challenge, I decided to be more forward about what I wanted.
My computer gave that happy little hiccup indicating someone had sent mail.
"Oh god woman, you've just got me so hard I had to take it out and give it a good jerk. I haven't had a fuck for 8 weeks and I'm horny as hell. Talk to me some more so I can wank off, then I might be able to talk some more about when we can meet."
I was so taken aback with the lewd frankness of this reply that I stood up and backed away from the luminous words, as if distancing myself could alter what they were saying. Standing there staring at the screen I could feel myself incredibly turned on, my pussy alive and tingling, full of images of this gorgeous young thing with a huge erection, wanking over the thought of me. I had to play this one; the more pleasure I gave, the more I would get out of it. Despite a crying desire just to masturbate myself into a sloppy frenzy, I resolved to tease this one out.
I enlarged his picture, slowly drew my dress off, and slipped my damp pungent panties down until they bound my ankles. I allowed myself one slick touch of that hot silky cunt, and rubbed my juices into my finger tips.
"How dare you." I typed, fingers poking at the alphabet, trying to decide which potent words to give him. Imagination is our most vibrant sexual organ, and stimulation with a stream of suggestive comments is just as exciting as the slickest tongue on the tightest clit.
"I didn't give you permission to touch yourself. Leave it quivering there and don't touch it until I tell you to. Now put your hands behind your head and slide forward in the chair so your hips are free to move."
"OK!" came an instant reply.
"I said hands behind your head. I don't want another word out of you. You're nothing but a cock to me, so clench your butt tight, raise your hips and make it harder still. Now here I am, nearly naked with my panties round my ankles. My pussy is so wet that it's running. Imagine me now, immediately in front of you. Push that cock high up for me. My tits are rubbing against your face as I mount you. Sit back! Nothing apart from your cock is allowed to touch me. I manoeuvre my engorged clitoris over the tip of that erection, and rub myself up and down the length of you. Push yourself up hard, I'm ready for you now. AH! My whole cunt is filled with your steel rod, oh man, you're so big and hard...Fuck me, now, fuck me."
As soon as I had finished writing I too slid myself to the edge of my seat and fingered myself into a prolonged orgasm, grunting like an animal as I came again and again full of images of hot spunk spurting out of that impossibly big cock. Eventually my pulse slowed and my eyes refocused on the screen. Everything was slow, quiet, peaceful. I could just drop off to sleep, but no, the screen blipped and there was Rob again. I suddenly had the horrible realisation that I had just had cyber sex with a complete stranger, after only exchanging a few sentences. Not exactly what the agency recommends. Did I feel like a slut? No, I felt like an Amazon queen.
"Shit, that was totally amazing. I've never done anything like that before. You're so sexy. I've got to meet you so I can make you feel that good. Where, when? Don't say no, I know you want it too."
I hesitated for a few minutes. He was probably nothing like his photo and what must he think of me after what had just happened? What did I think of myself for that matter? It suddenly occurred to me that I had loved every brief minute of it, and had no qualms about satisfying my own sexual needs, as long as no-one got hurt as the cliché goes.
There is something abandoned and indulgent about masturbation. I like to pleasure myself regularly, even when I'm in a satisfying relationship. I like the selfishness of the act, quality time. It is a completely different thing when you allow someone else to watch. It then becomes a sexual game. This mutual cyber masturbation was a new level of play for me, and apparently for Rob too. Did I want to meet the real Rob, or would I be satisfied with this virtual fuck which we had both just enjoyed? One downside of DIY is that although it is satisfying at the time, it leaves me hungry for real raw sex, the intimacy of skin, sweat, filthy language and passionate thrusts. I wanted to explore him, and I sensed a very hot hungry lover at the other end of this line.
As if reading my mind, or merely correctly interpreting the silence, he added,"Come on Louisa. I'm not a weirdo. I'd really like to meet you. I think we could have lots of fun together, no strings. How about tomorrow? You name any time and place you're happy with. Meet me, please."
"Well now that's better." I replied "You only had to say please."
I slept soundly that night, assisted by two large glasses of Rioja as a night cap. I awoke feeling energised and randy as hell. Unfortunately I had to hurry off to work, but checked my email quickly before I left.
"Woke up this morning with all 8 ½ inches standing to attention in your honour. I'm walking around with a permanent stiff and don't know how I'm going to get thro my 9am meeting. Let me know when we can meet, it's not an option any more, I need to get my hands on your ass and fuck you til you scream. Rob"