Lilacs 18Yo Friend Moniqua Chats

After two decades of chatting with horny women on the Internet, the best orgasms I ever had occurred just this past summer. I had three intense, almost painful ejaculations from the hottest, sluttiest girl I'd ever met, online or in person -- a petite, pretty black 18 year old named Moniqua. Wow, could that chick take a big cock into her tiny pink pussy!

Let's be clear about a few things. If you don't like hearing about older white guys banging teenagers -- this girl was still had a year of high school left -- or hearing about white guys hooking up with black females, then, stop reading this.

And, this is important -- this story isn't about me. I mean, I'm in the story, but I didn't get to fuck Moniqua. I'll just be brutally honest. I'm kind of fat, if I had one more package of Fudge Stripes for dinner (again), I'd probably top 300 pounds. And my dick is only about five and a half inches long. The thing is, I bet I'm pretty much like most of the guys on the Internet, not good lookin' enough to get attention from regular females. So we troll the Internet because we can use our words and minds to excite women, and the fact that some of us are pretty repulsive doesn't really make any difference.

Of course, I cursed the advent of webcams, so most females now want to see what I look like, and masturbate together. When I say I don't have one, women take that to mean, "you don't want to see what I look like." Of course, when women tell me the same thing, I assume they are lying about having a 36D-24-34 body.

Well, Moniqua was a little different. Perhaps a bit naive and inexperienced, and also being extremely horny, my evening "with" Moniqua was unlike any other night I'd had with a female from the Internet. She made me cum so hard, it almost doesn't matter that I wasn't the one stretching out her teen cunt in person.

If this sounds disappointing to you, or if you hate me because I'm just a fatso who only watches sexy girls get fucked, then just stop reading this. But let me wager a guess: Most of you guys reading this would actually trade places with me, if you could have an evening on the Internet like this. Yeah, you know you would. Because, after all, it's like custom-made porn, just for our personal amusement! And who can say no to that?

* * * * *

I'm sort of a glutten for punishment. While normally I find female chatpartners (or guys convincingly pretending to be females) on nationwide or worldwide chat rooms like Literotica's or Yahoo, sometimes I go into a website that is run by a local business. It pretty much only has chatters who live in our metropolitan area, and surrounding counties. We're on the East Coast of the USA, and there are lots of horny people in the several-million person population around here. Mostly males, but enough females to keep things interesting. I don't know why I go into these chatrooms for local people, it's not like I expect to hook up with anyone in person. The only women who'd probably want to fuck me are ugly sluts who can't get any attention from men in their lives, and frankly, I don't get interested in them. I like hot women, especially younger women. I'm 38 and prefer to watch porn with girls under 24. I know I'm being a hypocrit, but it's just the way I'm wired. I suspect most males are like me. Blame Hollywood and Madison Avenue, if you must.

This one evening in the summer, I logged into my computer after another lonely dinner in my apartment. Really, I rushed through the meal because I couldn't wait to get online, and see if any of my playmates were available. It's my social life, I have to admit, although most of the women live hundreds or thousands of miles away, don't really know the real me, and would probably not care if I suddenly dropped dead -- I mean, none of them had their lives orbiting mine. That's okay, all of this online stuff is just for fun anyway, right?

It was around 8 pm, something like that, on a very hot summer day, but it was still bright outside with sunset another hour away. So it didn't feel like nighttime. None of my usual chat friends were online, so I went searching for entertainment. Again, being the glutten that I am, I checked into the "GetHookedHere" website, which is almost entirely people in our local area.

That's when I "met" Moniqua, and by "met" I mean, saw her in a chatroom. Her profile said she was "proud 2b black!" and her age was "old enuf but 2yung2," both of which intrigued me. So instead of one of my usual opening lines (I have a bunch of canned one-liners designed to get female attention), I said something personal to her in a private message. I can't even recall what it was. But for whatever reason, the girl responded to me.

Over the course of the next half hour, I found myself chatting with Moniqua and about a dozen or so other chatters in this one room. The banter was, as usual, very sexual, but people have different objectives. Some are there to get off online, some just to kill time. Moniqua was joking around with everyone, allowing herself to be teased that she was only 18 years old, but she would tease back all of the "old folks" in the room. She teased me, I teased her, all in front of the other chatters. She wasn't responding to my personal messages much, except time to time.

Sitting at my computer in just underwear and a t-shirt, I probably could have been using my time more wisely. I wasn't really pursuing her, because she wasn't exactly responding to my implied solicitations for her private attention. I wasn't really pursuing anyone in particular, but you know how it is in a chatroom -- once you're in, you just sit there and play along, until it gets too boring. This room wasn't ever really boring, lots of funny people were there making risque conversation, so I remained in the room.

Monique did seem to be playing off of one guy a lot, however -- I can't remember his handle, but his real name (or what he said was his real name) was Quade. Someone around my age, I got the feeling. He was pretty good with quips and one-liners, and the 18 year old chatter looked like she was always responding to him. Sexual jokes, mostly, of all variety. Moniqua had let on that she had a well-hung boyfriend who was "very" satisfying to her, so if anything, I didn't get the feeling she was there looking for a hook-up.

That changed about 9:30, or so, when Monique responded privately to me, about ten or fifteen minutes after I had sent her my last private message. She was going to create a locked room, did I want to join her and a couple other guys for some conversation?

Dang, I made the cut! I assumed the girl was interested in an online gangbang, so of course I said yes. My small cock thickened, assuming I was going to get some cybersex action.

That wasn't quite Moniqua's intention. Instead, I was brought into a locked (private) chatroom with her, this guy Quade, and some other male chatter. Moniqua immediately announced to us all: Her mom just left home for her overnight shift, so she was "all alone" at home to "play." And by "play," she meant, get much more personal with male chatters in the area -- although not through cybersex.

She was interviewing us -- seriously!

Moniqua wanted to hear about us in detail, and see our pictures. Now, I have close-up photos of my cock, which I would share when asked, but I know no female would have a burst of orgasms from those pictures. Still, I posted the link to them. Quade, too, posted a link to his online picture folder, and out of curiosity I went to look. SHIT! The guy was a fucking stud -- and I'm in no way gay, but I can admit the facts. A white guy like me, he was six foot something, fit and trim, with a fucking awesome erection, it had to be nine inches long. He had light blonde curles on his powerful, athletic chest -- not muscular or ripped, but not a flab of fat on him -- with broad shoulders, a goati on his strong jaw, short-cropped blonde hair, and muscular thighs. But he was proud of his penis, as the many photographs of it attested. Thick as a fist at the base, with bulging veins on the nine-inch shaft, and shaved to show off his fat, meaty balls. The sort of tool that women drool over.

Yeah, there was no way the four pictures of my small dick could compare to the dozens and dozens of photographs of Quade in various states of dress and undress, including the photographs of himself jerking off, and coating his body in gallons of his semen. Dude came in buckets, it seemed.

Fulfilling a promise to us, Moniqua then shared with us her photographs, by email. My dick grew twice as hard when I saw them. She was a very short, skinny, gorgeous black girl. Her skin was dark chocolate, almost so dark that it was tough seeing contours on her face even with a bright light shining on her for the photographs. She'd taken the pictures with a webcam, so the resolution wasn't the greatest. Her jaw was triangular, she had high cheek bones, and her long black hair was braided to create cornrows on her petite scalp. She showed up a picture of herself in a bikini and in a tanktop, and she had an almost rail-thing, very skinny figure. Her breasts were not completely flat, but were definitely A-cups at most, if not smaller, which were actually perfectly proportioned on her tight ribcage.

Highly personal questions were flying back and forth, so I learned quite a bit about the other chatters in the room. (I can't say much about the third guy in the room, after a point he was hardly typing anything, and soon in fact he just left the room, leaving Monique with just Quade and me.) First, Moniqua wanted to know where we lived. It turned out she was only about fifteen minutes away from me, a few exists down the Interstate (which made her even more real and much more hotter to me), while Quade lived maybe an hour from her in the oppose direction.

She then peppered us with questions about ourselves. I was pretty straight-forward, saying I wasn't married, never had been engaged, lived in an apartment, and had a decent tech-industry job. Quade was married, but that particular night his wife was at her sick mother's house, so he was "playing bachelor" that evening. Moniqua demanded to know if he was a "good hubby" or if he "got around," and the proud hunk didn't hold back, admitting he was "nailing" his company's receptionist, and had met women from online for "no-strings" sex. The 18 year old then wanted to hear details. The guy was an exhibitionist, really, he quickly posted a link to another online picture folder, and there were a half-dozen photographs of him having sex with a sexy, big-titted blonde woman who looked like she was in her 20s. His dick was so big, it wouldn't fit all the way inside her furry pussy. Moniqua loved the pictures, declaring she was "close to cumming" just from looking at them. She was kidding, I think, but she meant she was definitely impressed.

Meanwhile, he and I were asking her tons of questions too. She answered a few of them. Moniqua was working at an ice cream store that summer, she had a "gorgeous" boyfriend who was a 24 year old black guy with, apparently, a cock even bigger than Quade's. She lived with just her mom; her dad had left them a few years ago, and her older brother was living and working a few hours away. As to some of the more personal questions: she'd had sex with one married guy, her neighbor, some hung Latino (she said it was like an "18th birthday gift to myself"); she loved sucking cock more than being licked, but she appreciated a man with a great tongue; she liked to swallow sperm more than having it on her face; she masturbated probably three times a day, or more, if she had the chance. What a horny young lady she was!

Quade was hitting up Monique to see her naked, or turn on her webcam for us. I joined the call. Yeah, let's see you naked too, touch yourself for us, we both told her.

If you can believe it, she did!

Five minutes later, I was staring at the girl, topless, in a window on my monitor. She opened her webcam for Quade and me. Her face was, indeed, gorgeous -- thin, pretty, with dozens of braided strands of hair bouncing around her face. With her cornrows, you could see the shape of her scalp, and it was small and petite like the rest of her. Then, almost immediately, she removed her white shirt for us, displaying her small, sexy titties. They were indeed very petite, not nearly A-cups, more like soft little sacks of flesh hanging down from her thin chest, with small but very hard nipples pointing off of them. She asked us if we thought her tits were too small, and of course, both of us white men told her she was gorgeous and extremely sexy -- and her boobies were perfect for her small body. I, at least, was serious about my answer.

The girl stroked her nipples a while as we watched, then consented to standing up in front of her webcam and showing us her butt and pussy in her skin-tight panties. Wow, the shape of the girl's ass was delicious -- skinny, almost bony, so perfectly little like the rest of her. Her legs were like toothpicks, but smooth and creamy, like dark chocolate. Her pussy had to be shaved, the way she had camel toe in her super-tight, white cotton panties. Mouthwateringly sexy girl! I was rubbing my aching dick in my underwear watching her bend over for us on the webcam, and lightly rub her fingers on her pussy mound.

She confirmed we both loved her body. Maybe she had a complex of some kind, because she wasn't tall, she wasn't busty, and she wasn't white. "You like black girls?" she asked, maybe three separate times. Quade said he did, and personally I just love all females, so of course I told her I did.

"Mmm," the horny female typed to us perverts in the private chatroom, "so would you fuck me if you could? Fer real?"

Fuck, was she really asking that?

Yeah, of course I would, I typed.

Expecting Quade to answer similarly, I sat back for him to take his turn typing. Only, his response never arrived. It was like, for a minute, he went silent. Then, two minutes.

But, I could see in the webcam, Moniqua was still staring at her monitor, and typing things. Only, nothing was showing up in the chatroom -- nothing from her, and nothing from Quade. You know, I may be an idiot, but I'm not stupid. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out the two of them were chatting with just each other, cutting me out of the conversation, in private messages!

My stomach went empty, I had an envious, almost jealous reaction. Somewhat angry, too, for an instant; she invited me into the room, she should be chatting with me as well as Quade, even if he had the perfect dick and body.

After a couple more lines from me in the locked room didn't draw any response, I sent Moniqua a private message myself. "Hah I can see you typing -- you chatting with him privately?" I asked her, or something to that effect. I honestly wasn't even expecting a response; in fact, if anything, I expected them to both leave the chatroom together. But the girl was very nice about it, she did response to me in the private message. "Yeah," she wrote, which didn't seem apologetic or anything, just factual.

My intuition was telling me, they were talking about hooking up for real, for some real-life sex. That was incredibly arousing to me, knowing that a married guy was possibly going to cheat with this black teenage hottie after meeting her in a chatroom. It's just a sexy thought, you know? And, I wasn't taking it personally -- if she had to choose between him and me, I couldn't be mad she was choosing him. Hell, I hadn't even showed her any pictures of my face or body, so I hadn't given her much of an option, had I?

Wanting to confirm my suspicions, I started asking questions around the edges, without bluntly asking the ultimate question. She was responsive to my questions, telling me her boyfriend wasn't around all week (he was coaching at some football camp in Ohio), she was going to be alone all night, and she hadn't been with her boyfriend "since last Thursday." I guess, to a sexy 18 year old female, six days without sex is an eternity.

That all added up to one thing: She was looking for someone -- Quade, specifically -- to fuck her THAT EVENING!

My dick was leaking precum profusely, soiling my underwear. I couldn't help myself, I butted right into her business. "So are you talking to him about fucking him tonight?"

And her response made me grab my dick and stroke it through my underwear: "mmmm maybe? lol"

No, I had to pull my underwear down and start jerking my dick directly, sweaty palm on hot shaft, seeing the topless hottie on her webcam, chatting to Quade about hooking up. It wasn't with me, of course, so part of me felt disappointed -- rejected, passed over. But I'd get over that, I'm a realist and a hot girl like her wasn't going to let me fuck her in person. I was probably four times her weight, almost. I'd crush her before my little penis got close to her body. No, instead, I was getting extremely aroused at the fantasy of Quade having sex with her -- and the voyeur in me wanted to thoroughly enjoy it. His dick was probably twice as big as miny anyway.

"Is he coming over to your place, or you going to his?" I asked, wanting all the details.

"He's coming here," she wrote. She blushed when she typed it, looking into her webcam with a guilty look on her face. Then she did apologize to me. "I'm sorry, I need to be going to get ready. I hope you're not mad."

That was so, so sweet of her, she didn't need to say that. I told her I wasn't mad, and in fact, it was really turning me on. I disclosed I'm a fat guy and she probably wouldn't have wanted me to come over -- even though I'm only 15 minutes away from her. (I'm not sure why I wrote that; maybe, if there was any chance she would have let me fuck her too someday, I wanted to remind her of that point.) I told her I hoped it was as good as she hoped it would be, too.

She was about to shut off her webcam and close me out of her life for the night, when I had a very playful, perverted idea. "Hey honey," I wrote, "would you mind leaving your webcam on, and letting me watch you two fuck?"

You know, before I even finished typing it and hitting "send," I told myself, no fucking way she'd agree to that.

Imagine my surprise at her response.

"Sure!" wrote Monique, shooting me a devilish grin in the webcam, "that sound hot, you really wanna watch?" Shrugging, she then wrote, "You won't be jealous?"

Thinking I'd get to watch this guy fuck the teenager, I wasn't jealous. "Nope -- girls like you don't like fat guys with small dicks anyway."

Unfortunately, she confirmed the obvious. "Sorry, not really," she typed, but gave me a wink in the webcam, "but if you'd like to watch, I'd love you too." (I remember her typoing that last word; I laughed because it looked like she was agreeing that she "loved me," but of course, that's not what she was really typing.) Then, she added, "He'll be here in an hour, I need to go get ready." Shower, is what she meant.

That was fine, but the IT manager in me -- that's my job -- was racing ahead, not wanting to miss any of this show. Could she put her laptop near her bed, to make sure I had a good angle? She did, just turning the laptop on her desk in her bedroom, so most of her bed was on display -- her headboard and pillows off to the right edge, white sheets solely covering the mattress, with the door of her bedroom squarely in the middle of the webcam's view on the other side of the bed. Her room, from what I could see of it, was largely unadorned -- nothing really on the walls, some clothing strewn on the floor. She was walking around wearing just her panties, it was fucking hot, her little nipples were so fucking stiff on her small boobs. She sat on the bed and even lay flat on it, confirming I could see whatever was going to happen on it.

Next, I had her change the time-out settings on her computer (again, the computer geek in me coming out). I didn't want the laptop to go blank while she was busy on the bed. She said it was plugged into the wall, so the computer let her set it to "never go blank." She also had to set the webcam, too, not to time out.