It's two in the morning, four days after Valentine's Day. I am awake, lying naked in a motel bed somewhere out west. Next to me, semi-asleep, lies a woman I have only known in person for less than 12 hours, yet I feel as though I have known her forever. She, too, is naked. Her pale skin glows in the light that filters in through the curtained window. I reach out to touch her shoulder, marveling that she's here with me rather than in her hometown a few hundred miles east. With me, I remind myself, rather than with her husband.
I had met Mindy almost six months ago, not in person but in an Internet chat room. I had just been informed that another online would-be sweetheart had decided not to meet me in person after all, so I was pretty despondent. I went into that chat room feeling extremely sad. Hoping to ease the pain and maybe strike up a friendship, I typed in, Does anyone here want to talk to someone who's had a bad Internet romance?
I immediately regretted sounding so desperate, but I had promised myself that I would be honest in my Internet dalliances. I'd heard too many horror stories about meeting people on the Net so even in my just-for-fun cybers I was, and still am, truthful. So truthful in fact that, not knowing my true cock size, I always said it was a six-inch one. Not porn-star big, but not too shabby, either. (I later found out it's 8.25 inches long, but that's not the issue.) I wished I had come up with something a bit more assertive, but it was too late. My despair of the moment was on display for all the world to see.
Suddenly, on the screen appeared a reply: I will.
I won't replay the conversation here, but there was an instant rapport between this lovely lady and me. I looked up her profile and saw she was Married but Looking, in her early 30s, and owned a small flower shop in the town where she lives with her husband and three daughters. I winced at the Married part, but we were in an adult chat room and everyone was cybering. I was lonely and getting a bit horny. On impulse I asked, "Do you want to cyber?"
She surprised me when she agreed. We only managed to get some foreplay in before one of her girls came into her computer room and asked if she could use the PC. My new friend apologized but said she liked me and that we could add each other to our buddy lists. We exchanged real names, then we jotted down each other's e-mail addresses and said our good nights. I was a bit disappointed when she left; already I knew something big had happened.
The next morning I found an e-mail from Mindy:
I can't stop thinking about you, Alex. I wonder how you are and how you are feeling, what you're doing.
With those words, I realized that something had, indeed happened.
Over the next few days we exchanged e-mails and cybered whenever her husband was not home. It turns out they both had cyber-lovers, something they had agreed on to spice up their sex lives. But they had different ideas of how they should go about it. Richard was a player and wanted to meet some of his "ladies" while Mindy just liked to have sexy chats and phone sex. She also had to deal with Richard's jealousy; he’d told her she could do anything online, but any one-on-one meetings would have to be approved by him. This was not likely, given that the jealousy factor would grow until finally Mindy would not be able to spend much unsupervised time online.
Meanwhile, I had tried to start a real romance with a single nurse in the Midwest, but that fizzled badly. By then, I knew I was in love with Mindy -- though I was resigned to the fact that we'd never meet. Yet, not even six months after we met in that chat room, I hopped on a plane and went to meet her.
I look at my watch. It's 2:05. I run my hand gently along her bare back and caress her long brown hair. She is not centerfold material; she's around 5 feet tall, chubby, and is very average looking. Yet to me she is beautiful beyond looks…beyond thought. As I run my fingers up and down her spine, my cock throbs back to life. On this same bed, not more than five hours ago, we had made love for the first time.
It had been beautiful. No sooner had she closed the motel room door behind her and I had placed my suitcase on the floor when we found ourselves in a tight embrace and we were kissing. She had warned me that maybe she would not like kissing. None of the men in her life were good at it. I told her that kissing was the only thing I had ever really done with a woman. Having cerebral palsy has made me a bit too self-conscious and reticent, so until now kissing and a little tit-sucking had been my only experiences in bed. Mindy would not only be my first illicit affair, but she would also be my first lover.
Much to her delight, my kissing skills had not vanished even after more than a decade. We kissed and kissed for minutes on end. I kissed her lips, her cheeks, her forehead, her eyelids. I broke away for a minute and we set up a CD player she'd borrowed for her business trip; she was in this town for a legitimate business outing but her hubby and children were unable to go, hence my presence there. I took out a Golden Oldies CD that featured old rock-and-roll songs. We danced to a slow song, and when we stopped dancing, I kissed her passionately.
