She flicked through her phone as she sat there, waiting. People buzzed around her, and she filled her time watching them go in their various directions, rushing to a gate or rushing toward the baggage claim. She just sat there waiting, her stomach gently churning. This was by far the craziest thing she had ever done.
It had all started simply enough. They had started chatting online. Truth be told, they had started chatting on an erotic chat site. It was pretty random, he said 'hi', she replied, and a little while later they were deep in an erotic conversation, urging one another to pleasure themselves in ways that would be totally indecent in any other setting. Typing things you can only type in such a situation. But it had been satisfying, she had orgasmed, she was fairly sure he had too, and his imagination had a way of clicking with hers...and so here she was, waiting.
There was more to it than that, she normally didn't keep in touch with guys she chatted to online, but he said he wanted to turn their chat into a story, and she was intrigued. So they chatted some more, sometimes it was random messages, other times there was a clear sexual focus, and the story kept building. He published it online. There she was in print, the description of the girl was her, the things she did were the things she had written to him when they chatted. It was a turn on. Others seemed to like it too, the story got a good rating from readers.
They swapped images they found online of the things they wanted to do, they turned that into chats. More than once she had cum in her chair or her bed, her panties around her thighs. Once she sent him a photo of her playing with herself while they chatted. She was pretty sure he liked it. Another time, after some prodding she had sent him a photo of her boobs. She wasn't sure what she was thinking at the time, other than she was horny and the thought of taking a photo made her excited. She was surprised when he sent her a message recommending she delete the photo from their chat, but she liked that he was being considerate, it had served its purpose, he had cum, and so had she!
Their chats continued. They definitely stimulated one another's minds and other parts as well! My gosh, she had even sent him a photo of her pussy. She was so turned on at that moment she couldn't help herself. He messaged her after and told her how he had played with himself thinking about it, looking at that photo, imagining himself there. She liked how it made her feel.
But, he lived on the other side of the world. It was convenient in so many ways, there was no blurring of the lines. It was comforting for her that she could express her fantasies with him, and not have the threat to live them out. He engaged her mind; that was all. But their chats continued. He was fun; he complimented her dress sense as much as her boobs; he was growing on her.
So, when he mentioned he was coming to the US, for work he said, the jokes started. "Maybe we should catch up!" "What do you think?" "We could do this." "We could do that." "Vegas!"
It was funny for a short time, but at some point her mind piqued, maybe it would be fun. "So, would you really do it?" she had asked him one night. "Well, why not, if you're really interested???" Every warning went through her head, you don't agree to meet guys you chat with online. Her head filled with thoughts of all the horror stories she had read about in the news. She didn't reply to him straight away, he didn't push it. She raised it with her roommate and her other friends; they all said no, it was a crazy idea. Of course it was! But the idea still stuck in her head, there was a naughtiness to it for sure!
They didn't speak for days, and then she saw him online one night. "Thinking about Vegas?" she messaged him, hoping to draw the conversation out again. His reply was polite, he thought the idea might have died, but he was booking his flights to the US for his work trip. He understood that it was a crazy idea, and could only work if they both wanted to. There was certainly no pressure he kept saying again and again and again. "It would be nice to chat in the same time zone though! lol" he finished.
A day or so in Vegas would be expensive, but he could pay for the room he said, she was still at university, it wasn't really in her budget. Their conversation then turned to what they were doing, and as it had done before, it became sexual. Later, as their chat progressed, her panties around her knees and imagining him fucking her like he was describing she suddenly typed "let's meet in Vegas." "Ok" he replied, and she came right then.
He offered her the chance to pull out various times, but she didn't want to sound like a coward, after all their whole game had been based on a bit of a dare.
Her thoughts then turned to expectations. What would he expect, what should she expect? They had chatted about so many things, thing that one either shared with a lover or a stranger! Would she be expected to live those out? Would he want to? Would he be like he had described in their chats? Could it be possible to have sex as perfect as in their chats? Is it possible to have a normal conversation across the table from someone who you've sent pictures of your pussy? Oh man!
Her roommate offered her money, "in case you need to get out and book a room somewhere else". Her friends still thought she was crazy.
He sent her a message, it was a picture of his boarding pass "Sydney to Los Angeles" it read. He was on his way.
So now she sat there, waiting. She knew she was going to arrive first, and had thought about going to the hotel and checking in, but she had decided to meet him at the airport and catch a taxi together, try to make it a little more normal. It was only going to be about an hour. She was scared, excited, nervous, turned on, scared and excited.
Finally, her phone beeped. "Arrived" the message said. "Meet at baggage carousel D?"
"Ok" she replied, and taking a deep breath, picked up her carry-on bag, stood up and started walking toward the baggage claim area. Holy crap it was real.
A, B, C...D! There were people everywhere, but standing there was a guy she knew had to be him. He was standing with a suitcase, a backpack on, typing on his phone. He finished typing as she walked toward him, and her phone immediately beeped, it was him. He looked like he had described, and she was happy with what she saw.
"Hi..."
It seemed such a stupid thing to say to someone that with whom she had shared so much, but it was all that seemed appropriate at the time.
He smiled at her, "Stacey, hi, great to finally meet you" he said as he opened his arms and moved in to hug her like a long time friend. She relaxed and leaning into him accepted his hug. It was warm but polite, the awkwardness of their first meeting lying just below the surface.
"Have you been waiting long?" he enquired, and a normal conversation flowed as they walked together through the airport toward the taxi stand.
As they drove toward the centre of Vegas, they continued to make small talk. She was surprised how relaxed he seemed, not realising the tension he was carrying inside whilst trying so hard to put her at ease, but neither could escape the reality: they were both headed toward a hotel in a strange city with a person they had never physically met before, but with whom they had shared some most intimate experiences. This could go a number of ways, and many of them were not good. He didn't seem like a serial killer though, and he was working overtime to try and make her comfortable. They sat on opposite sides of the taxi, although he kept eye contact with her and kept smiling at her.
"How weird is this?" he asked her. "I am scared as hell!" Stacey replied. "Glad I'm not the only one then!" He smiled back, and she felt more comfortable.
"Really? You look totally under control, like you do this all the time!"
"Stacey, I'm so jetlagged, I couldn't change my expression if I had to! But I can't believe we are doing this, I am just hoping I don't make a dick of myself!" That made her laugh; this weekend could be great if they allowed it to be.
As the taxi drove onto the Strip, Stacey's eyes darted around her. "Woah, look..." was all she could say. "Its nuts" was all he could reply, and as the taxi turned up the drive leading to Caesar's Palace, they both looked at one another nervously, before bursting out laughing. For some reason, she felt, they got one another.
"Sir, madam, we have you staying for three nights in a room with two double beds, is that correct?" The lady at reception asked. "Sounds right." Was Mark's reply. He had wanted Stacey to feel comfortable, to know there was no pressure caused by sleeping in the same room, it had meant a bit more of a boring room than might otherwise have been on offer, but Mark was never really sure how Stacey was feeling about this little adventure, and so he was careful not to scare her. The persona he had adopted in their chats, may have been confident , but he wasn't exactly like that. Maybe in looks, but that persona was more someone he longed to be rather than who he was.
For her part, Stacey felt a mix of relief and disappointment when she realised they would have the option of separate beds, which summed up her mixed emotions about the entire adventure. If they had only had one bed, then she wouldn't have had any option, but to share it with Mark, but with two beds, she may need to make a decision, and she didn't want him to think she was backing out of anything that might happen or upset him by turning him down if she had to.
The room was small, but nice. Mark offered her the choice of bed and explained that he was more than happy for her to make herself comfortable and he would sort himself out after.
"Thank you Mark, you've been a true gentleman." She smiled at him from across the room. "But this is your room too, I don't want you to think I'm a free loader!" They laughed at one another again. It was clear to each of them that they were both nervous, which in a way helped to relax them both. Laying on their separate beds they started to talk like two normal people meeting for the first time. Explaining their backgrounds, filling in gaps from their chats. It was early afternoon now, and the travel and the emotional tension had taken its toll, and the conversation eventually slowed and both found themselves asleep on their separate beds, resting.
Stacey woke first, opening her eyes and looking across at her roommate for the weekend sleeping soundly on the bed next to her. It was early evening. Thinking it was a good opportunity for a shower and to prepare for the night, she quietly climbed into the shower. As the water rushed over her she still wondered what the weekend might hold. Mark seemed really nice so far, and everything he had said prior to meeting him had proved to be accurate, but there was still so little that she knew. She was grateful they had separate beds.
When Stacey opened the door out of the shower Mark was sitting up on his bed and flicking through his phone.
"Morning sleepy" she teased him.
