"Thanks for the pic. I definitely approve."
The message's sender was Stacy, a young woman whom I had met online. She had e-mailed me to tell me how much she'd enjoyed an erotic story I'd written and posted on a site devoted to such things. I shared a few other stories with her and our friendship grew through our online chats.
"Well you aren't so bad yourself," was my reply.
That was an understatement. Stacy had sent her pic first. The woman in the picture was young and pretty with medium length blonde hair and a mischievous smile on her face. She might be described more as "cute" than "sexy", but bore a resemblance to actress Kirsten Dunst. I don't assume that everyone is who they claim to be online. A face-to-face web cam chat quickly erased any doubts that the person I was chatting with was the girl in the pictures.
It was late summer 2004 and I had been single since spring. My ex and I had maintained a covert fuck-buddy relationship until early July when she met another guy she wanted to date. Our sexual encounters had been sporadic at best, but I still was missing the regular sex.
Stacy's mind impressed me more than her looks. Despite being six years my junior she was far better read than I, though terribly humble about herself. Stacy was a quiet book-worm and a bit of a nerd, though hardly looked the part. She was a competitive dancer in high school and continued to judge some sort of national competition.
We exchanged slightly more revealing pics. She was always partially clothed, but did send one of her in a bikini and another in boy shorts and an undershirt. Her body was a marvel, fit and firm, with a tight flat stomach and even tighter ass that had just enough hips to it to be feminine. Her ass was her favorite feature, with good reason. I could see her legs were smooth and just as toned.
Stacy was a study in contrasts. She was bubbling with sexual energy and highly flirtatious, yet she had limited sexual experience. She had given head to the only real boyfriend she ever had, and he'd touched her pussy a little. They had gone no further; she was a virgin. Being naturally shy and introspective she didn't seek out boyfriends, and despite being attractive, her timidity had slowed her social outlets. She also was seriously ill her senior year of high school, a popular time to have sex the first time. Between the illness and her natural shyness she hadn't stayed close to her high school friends.
I think my flirtation with her was successful in part because I didn't take it very seriously. I was candid and open about my sexual desires and experiences rather than being vague like I often am in "first date" sort of situations. She was equally open with me, though she was obviously longer on desires than experiences. She was perfectly willing to tell me how much she enjoyed her vibrator and her modest porn collection. The anonymity of the internet let us be more open than we might have otherwise.
One night while chatting she upped the ante. "So I've seen the top half of you naked, and I definitely like. Wouldn't mind running my hands all over your stomach and chest. I'm just wondering when I get to see that big cock you write about."
"What makes you think that I've got a big dick? I think most guys give themselves big cocks when they write."
"Well then I guess I want to find out," she said. I was rock hard and figured she wouldn't be disappointed.
"Ok, I'll turn on my cam." I quickly stripped and activated my web cam.
"Oh my. That IS quite nice. Very impressive. I bet a girl could do a lot with that, if she could handle it all."
"Do you think you could?"
"I don't know. Remember, I haven't handled ANY cock yet. But I wouldn't mind trying." I didn't take her too seriously, but certainly enjoyed her compliments and showing off a little. She didn't return the favor completely, but did strip down to her bra and panties for me on camera that night.
Stacy lived about a ninety minute drive north of me, near LA. We continued our sexually charged conversations for a few weeks before I broached the idea of hanging out in person sometime, with no expectations of where it might lead. She agreed, and after a phone call we met for the first time the following Saturday. It was marked largely by nervousness and a degree of shyness on both our parts, despite having been so revealing online. Still, we managed to translate our great conversational compatibility to real life.
Late in the afternoon we ended up in my room talking on my bed. I went in for a kiss, and happily she responded. We made out for a good while, though with restraint on both our parts. I didn't want to tease myself nor push this somewhat innocent yet highly sexual girl. Yet kissing can be its own reward, and I enjoyed groping her body through her clothes. She admitted afterwards that she had been really hoping I would make a move and was both ecstatic and relieved when I did. Later when we said our goodbyes we made plans to hang out the following weekend.
The next weekend I drove up to visit her. Stacy lived with her mom and grandparents in a modest town home. She went to college full time and worked part time to help pay rent and for a little shopping money. Her mother was saving to buy a new home, as after her divorce neither she nor her ex could afford the payments on their previous house. I felt it was rather sweet of Stacy to stay with her mom and help pay rent, but nevertheless hoped it wouldn't interfere with our fun. Stacy's place was a pain to locate, since it was nestled within a community with confusing building numbers. Finally with her guidance over the phone I was able to find her place.
I had made really good time driving up to her place. This was somewhat unfortunate because I was earlier than I'd told her I would be. Her mother let me in and informed me Stacy had just finished showering. I silently lamented Stacy's living situation, because her being wet and fresh out of the shower could have had fun possibilities otherwise.
Stacy's mom was a nice, heavyset woman. The home itself was about what I expected. It was crowded with stuff that didn't fit in their temporary smaller house. Stacy's room was upstairs, and once dressed she came down to liberate me from her mother. She looked slightly panicked and nervous. I smiled at her reassuringly and her face instantly relaxed.
