The Chat Room Friend

I was as nervous as a whore in church. What had I gotten myself into? It started innocent enough. Wasting time between appointments and tiring of the same old porn sites I frequented, I casually clicked on an adult chat link. It was confusing and I stumbled around until I learned the knack, then found myself enjoying the banter. It seemed like the only person responding to my comments and questions was a person called Curious. I found it necessary to cut the session short to meet my appointment, but I told Curious that I would return in about two hours and would like to continue our conversation. Before leaving the site, however, I checked the profile on Curious and learned she was 21 years old with interests in voyeurism and exhibitionism. She was single and resided in Minnesota. I was anxious to return to the chat.

You see, I don't really enjoy personal interactions. I spend ten to twelve hours a day interacting with people and playing the roll as salesman. On my own time I am somewhat of a loner. Complicated relationships are depressing and too much work. When I want sex, it is much easier to go to the internet and masturbate, or when I tire of the self abuse, I pick up a common street walker. The nice thing about a whore is that her only aim is to please you, and as fast as she can. That works for me.

When I got back to the chat room, Curious was there and we picked up just like there had been no interruptions. As the chat became more intimate, we had a variety of geeks adding their comments. That's when Curious suggested a private room. With a few instructions from her, we were soon communicating more privately. This went on for almost two weeks. Curious and I were getting to know each other quite well. We never talked much about what was going on in our lives, but rather, about the things we liked and disliked.

We shared fantasies and desires and on more than one occasion I would masturbate while we were on line. When I finally got the nerve to tell her that I frequently jacked off when we shared fantasies, she surprised me by admitting that she did the same. We soon graduated to giving blow-by-blow descriptions while we were in the process of masturbation. These communications had become the most exciting and erotic thing I had ever done. One day, as Curious was vividly describing how her pussy was wet to the touch, she said she wished I were there to see it. Knowing that that wasn't really possible, I half-heartedly suggested that she should send me a picture. That's when we quit talking in the chat room and shared our private e-mail addresses.

I slept in one Saturday morning, not having to go to work, and when I awoke my computer was flashing a message. I knew it would be Curious, but I wasn't expecting what appeared when I opened the message. No text, only a very close up picture of a widely spread, dripping pussy hole. Her clit was visible and swollen at the top of the frame, while her inner lips, wet and matted against the fleshy part of her pussy, extended beyond the edge of the picture. At the bottom of the picture her dark pink pussy hole oozed a thick droplet of fluid. The picture had been taken just before the droplet had separated and dripped away. I imagined the position she was in when she took the self- portrait, probably sitting on the very edge of a chair with her pussy hanging over and holding the digital camera ready for just the right moment. Over the next 3 months we exchanged a variety of photos, but never of anything but our genitals, and in her case, only extreme close-ups. An occasional finger in her pussy and even a carrot once, but never a larger view. Many times I wished I could "zoom out" and get a better overall perspective, but Curious never responded to those requests. It wasn't long before the electronic relationship started to wane. The pictures became redundant and the descriptions more mundane. I was beginning to think it was time to move on.

One night I mentioned that I would be visiting her fair state for a convention. I didn't think it unusual that she would ask for some details. I told her that it would be held at the Hyatt in St. Paul and that I would be there for three days. There was a long pause before she came back on and asked if I thought it was a good idea to finally meet. I was speechless. This was a woman with whom I had an intimate, although detached, relationship. This was a woman with whom I had shared the most secret of desires. But most alarming, this was a woman who's face I had never seen. In fact I had never seen any part of her body except her extreme pussy. Was she really 65 years old and fat and ugly? After all, nobody ever misled you over the internet. Granted it was shallow and chauvinistic to consider such things, but wasn't our only link a quasi-physical one? On the other hand, I was ready to end it anyway. Finally seeing her might be the clincher.

We agreed that she would call me at the hotel on the second night and we would finalize the plans. She was very illusive and would not give me a phone number or tell me from where she was traveling, if she was, indeed, traveling. The closer it got to convention time, the more I got cold feet. Several times I reminded her that this meeting might be the end of us. Her only response was, "If it ends, it ends."

The first night at the hotel I lay awake, wondering why I had put myself in this position.

I finally convinced myself that it really didn't matter. The best that could happen was that I would get laid, and the worst was I would run her off and go find a hooker for the night. At nine o'clock the next night I was still sitting in my studio room. I had moved back and forth from the bedroom to the sitting room several times, never getting comfortable. Finally the phone rang. "Curious?" I answered. A sweet, soft voice responded, "Yes. Are you ready to go thru with this?"

"I guess so," I stuttered, "I'll meet you at the elevator." In a panic I smoothed out the bed and tidied up, then jogged to the elevator foyer. It seemed like it took forever for the elevator to get there, and when the bell from the car behind me dinged, I jumped like a startled mouse. When the door opened, there was this tiny, skinny girl. Obviously this was not who I was waiting for. This girl looked to be about twelve years old. I was looking for a 21 year old, single woman, like the profile described. I was turning away as she said, "Hi, I'm Curious." My mind went blank and my tongue grew thick. I could not speak. It may have been her size that made her look so young, or more likely, her attire. She wore a short, red pleated skirt and a short sleaved white blouse. White bobby socks topped a pair of Nike running shoes. She couldn't have been five foot tall and the width of her hips wouldn't have measured 10 inches across. My eyes darted around to make sure we were alone in the foyer. "Whoa, there's something really wrong here," I said. "You're supposed to be 21."

"Yes I am," she replied. "Would you like to see my ID, or shall we go to your room where we can talk?" I turned and she moved next to me as we walked speechless down the hotel corridor.

By the time we got to the room, I could scarcely breathe. All my instincts told me to stop this insanity, but instead I passed the key card thru the lock and followed Curious inside. Once past the shock of her youthful appearance, I realized that she was actually quite pretty. Her complexion was flawless and the shape of her face was perfect for the way her short red hair was cut. She walked with an athletic grace and my loins sent a quick electrical shock thru my body. "Have a seat. We do need to talk."

Curious went to the short couch, which I was sure was a hide-a-bed, and sat at the far end, very lady-like and proper. I sat at the opposite end of the couch and said, " I'm sorry for the way I'm acting, but you look so young and I really don't need any trouble." Thru an innocent smile she responded, "Looks can be deceiving." As she spoke, she raised her right leg and stretched it out on the cushion of the couch, leaving her left leg in its original position. Her skirt fell in place to cover her, but the position alone caused my dick to tremble. Once again I was speechless. I could have been arrested for what I was thinking. "If you don't like what you see, then we'll call this all off," she said. I couldn't speak. She proceeded to slowly unbutton her blouse and when all the buttons were undone, she pulled the tail of the blouse from where it was tucked into her skirt. She wore no bra, but the blouse was not open enough to see her breasts. Considering her stature, I wasn't expecting much. Next she lifted the hem of her skirt and asked, "Do you like my panties?" I could only nod.

Her panties were white satin and encased a very well formed pussy. There may not have been much shape to the rest of her body, but her pussy was full and bulging at the seams. She dropped her skirt high on her legs, leaving a view of that gorgeous bulge and pulled her blouse aside. As I expected, she was not very well endowed in the breast department, and once again panic loomed at the possibility of her age. However her nipples were well formed and reacted immediately when she started rubbing them with her fingers. She had told me once that her nipples were so sensitive that she could almost make herself cum without touching her pussy. She pushed her hips along the cushion until her head was on the armrest. Then her eyes closed and her lips parted as she continued the rhythmic motions on her nipples. "I've been wet all day," she said as she bent both knees up and spread her legs wide.

When I saw the dark spot that had spread across the crotch of her panties, I knew I was hooked. No turning back now. "By the way, I am a virgin and intend to stay that way, OK?" Again, all I could do was nod. I sat in awe as her hand came down and very gently started small circular motions over her panties. The more she touched, the wetter the panties got. The wetter the panties got, the more they clung to her pussy, slowly revealing all the details of her inner labia and engorged clit. My cock strained in my pants and I wasn't at all embarrassed to quickly strip down to nothing. I sat there staring, cock in hand, at this terribly sexy woman, all thoughts of possible age issues gone. Her head rose and her eyes settled on my hard prick as I slowly stroked it.

The head of my cock was covered in pre-cum and it ran down over my jacking hand. The more she watched me, the faster and harder she rubbed her panty-covered pussy. With the skill of a pianist, one hand kept a constant motion on her nipples while the other moved at an increased speed over her pussy. With all her fingers together she would pull up hard on her pussy, forcing the wet material to stretch tight and fall into her slit. As she pushed back down the fabric stuck in her wet crevice and waited for the next upward movement.

On a down stroke, she pushed her middle finger into her pussy hole, taking panties with it. She continued to finger fuck herself, each stroke driving more of the panties inside her. Her juices were everywhere, the panties not being able to absorb any more. Her eyes never left my cock and I felt obliged to spread myself and expose my balls for her review. Her mouth was open and her eyes glassy. A small trail of spittle ran from the corner of her mouth and I knew she was about to cum. Faster and faster her finger slammed her tiny hole and as the orgasm hit, her eyes shut tight and she held her breath. At the peak of her climax she quit pumping her finger into her pussy and only gripped it hard with her finger impaled to the last knuckle. Slowly she released her grip and opened her eyes.

As she sat up a little straighter, her stretched and soaked panties gaped above her hole, but stayed embedded in her pussy. "My turn to watch now," she said. This was much better than our e-mail sex. No descriptions were necessary, only show and tell. Not needing any more visual stimuli I leaned back and started jacking off in earnest. In only seconds I was cumming hard, squirting my load up on my chest and belly. The look in her eyes, as she watched the cum shoot from my cock, was one of pure lust. I could tell instantly, we were far from done. In the aftermath of my hard climax, I wondered if she would still be a virgin when the night was done.

The second round was like a grade school teacher getting the kids' attention after recess.

"Well, let's get serious now," she said, smiling. She stood, removed her blouse and started a sensuous procedure of removing her panties. With her feet at shoulder width, she peeled the panties off from the waste band down until they were inside out, with the crotch still knotted deep in her pussy. She continued the slow downward motion until the last of the material slipped glistening from her slushy cunt. The heavy, wet crotch fell and hung loosely. Curious pulled them the rest of the way down and stepped out of them. Standing there completely nude, I couldn't help but awe at how skinny she was, except for that pussy. This was one of those pussies that jumped out at you and wanted to nuzzle your palm. And the lack of any visible hair only accentuated its size. This was a pussy made for only two things, close up photography and fucking. I had already experienced the first. In a nonchalant manner she asked, "Do you have anything here I might use as a dildo?"

I didn't know what to offer besides my cock, which was already hardening. What could she use, my razor, my tube of toothpaste, my shoe? Then I remembered the courtesy bar. I poured an bottle of Perrier water on the floor and presented her the bottle. A grin spread across her face. With no further ado she lay back on the couch in much the same position she had been in before, knees bent and spread. I watched closely as her pussy begged for attention, and it was not disappointed. She began rubbing the length of the bottle up and down her slit until a film of slick juice coated the glass. Her hips rose off the couch to meet the downward thrust of the bottle, and her pussy seemed to engulf and pull at the green glass. Her pussy lips wrapped the neck of the bottle only to release their hold as the thick part pushed its way thru. Her cunt was so wet and so demanding. Curious was once again back in a trance of lust. She eased the bottle into her waiting sex and continued pushing until only an inch or so of the bottom of the glass remained visible. Then using her vaginal muscles, she pushed the bottle back into her hand. Time and again she fucked herself with the bottle, while I increased the speed of the strokes on my cock. I had never seen, nor will I ever see again, such a display of pure wanton lust.

Curious was in a world of her own, with my presence only to heighten her pleasures. She didn't see me reach over and start to fondle her clit as she pumped away with the bottle. She startled for a moment when she felt my touch, then proceeded with even greater fervor. The faster she pumped the bottle, the harder and faster I molested her clit, until once again she exploded with orgasm. When the final spasm passed, she stood and said, "Watch. I want to show you something neat." She slowly removed the bottle, the opening separating with a sloppy pop, then held the bottle up to the glass. The bottle had been filled with her ever-flowing juices to about an inch from the bottom. It was the most remarkable thing I had ever seen. She then pushed me flat on my back on the couch and took over jacking me off. It took both of her tiny hands to fully encircle my cock and she jacked the full length, her upper hand going past the head and forcing it back thru her fist on the down stroke.

Four or five of those kind of strokes and I was once again shooting my load up on my belly. I lay there for several minutes, totally exhausted and wondering if I would get to fuck her. I must have dozed for a moment, for when I awoke, she was gone. I couldn't believe it! A few hours ago I was in a panic because she was here, now I was in a panic because she was gone. A handwritten note sat on the coffee table.

"Thanks for a great evening, but I think we should call it quits now. Love, Curious."

Since that night, Curious has not answered my e-mail, nor appeared in any chat rooms, at least under the same name. And while I may never hear from her again, I will always cherish her memory, or more precisely, the memory of that marvelous hungry pussy.