My Amazing Friend Maggie

It's been a while since I've been motivated to contribute a personal story here, as I typically only write about events and experiences that feel like they actually warrant a bit of erotic exploration here on the site. I'm smiling and excited to report that I have been moved to contribute a new story--about my incredible friend, Maggie, who I met here on the site.

If you have followed my life's saga of ups and downs over the past few years, you may recall that I am in a wonderful relationship with my partner of nearly three years, Alyssa. We're still very much in love, navigating the weird twists of fate we call life together with understanding and closeness. For personal reasons, and not without a bit of guilt, I've chosen not to share my life here on Lit with Alyssa, and so while I have been quite active connecting with a number of male friends in the chats, I've been hesitant to get too close to another woman. For a long time, it just didn't feel right, for hopefully obvious reasons. It felt too "real."

Maggie changed all that. And I hope when she reads this story, she'll feel every bit as special and valued as she is to me. Sure, it may always have the "sex chat site" asterisk next to it, but I can say with a lot of confidence, I feel a tremendous amount of real love for her in this relationship. And it IS a relationship to me. I hope she feels the same.

I confess I don't remember the exact first interaction we shared together. It may have taken a few chats for me to realize, "hey, she's different." But eventually, I did, and I am so much better for it. Maggie is about my age, and shares quite a few life story highlights and lowlights. We're both divorced, we both had bad experiences in long-term marriages that dissolved, and we each have one adult child, each of which makes us incredibly proud and humble. Despite a few common and regrettable lows, our shared experiences have brought us even closer over the years. We have a real connection. A rare bond.

Maggie has read all my stories here, which are all based on real experiences, so she started out with a lot of insights and understanding regarding my history and the things that have made me "me." Slowly, and with a great deal of mutual respect, she waded into several of them. I knew she took a bit of extra interest in another one of my Lit relationships with a man named Justin. It was Justin who actually gave me the courage to contribute stories here in the first place, after I shared my experience a few years ago of returning home early from a dinner to find my daughter Katie and her now-husband (then-boyfriend) together in our pool. Let's just say they weren't exactly playing Marco Polo, and I'll leave it at that. (If you'd like to read about it, it's still available in my stories list.)

I had indulged some of Justin's fantasies after we talked about that night, and it aroused him to suggest on two separate occasions that I wear something special for him as we chatted--first, one of Katie's quite-sheer tanks tops (which I was excited to share a photo of me in), and then much later, one of her thongs, which I wore to work at Justin's behest. On both occasions, I felt a rush of need that I had seldom felt before. I liked it.

And yes, I am quite aware why he found it so thrilling. The taboo element was very present as we chatted, and was impossible to ignore. I would have never guessed my own reaction to the exchanges, but I found myself very taken by this new feeling. Even more so to share it with a man I had become close to, whose reactions were frankly quite addictive for me. At first, I had convinced myself that watching Katie and her boyfriend Danny was thrilling, mostly because I couldn't take my eyes off his body, his impressive erection, and the enviable way he took care of my Katie. It had been a long time since anyone had taken care of me in such a loving way. I craved it. I was jealous. I ached.

Justin made me understand that perhaps there was a bit more going on with me beneath the surface. As we explored, I embraced it. At times, I could barely recall the night in question without touching myself. I still do.

As Maggie and I got closer, she eventually became comfortable enough to share a similar experience of hers. One evening, and of course completely unplanned, she walked quietly into the living room to find her then-college-age son, Mick, bathed only in the light of his laptop, masturbating.

As a general "fetish," if that's what you want to call it, we each admitted a very intense voyeuristic thrill watching someone else be sexual. Watching a man--any man--take care of himself, strong big hand milking a thick erection at his own pace, his own intensity, knowing what felt perfect to him, was beyond exciting. There were times in my marriage (although not enough of them) when I actually preferred watching my husband masturbate to having actual intercourse. There was something uniquely intimate about it, even erotically selfish, and it makes me wet to even be typing it to you here right now. It's something we both loved in the general sense.

But, of course, it wasn't "any man," who she had watched, and there was nothing "general" about it. It was Mick. I was intrigued and aroused and hanging on every word, trying my best not to assault her with questions. As she elaborated, I found it impossible not to begin masturbating. I suddenly knew the thrill Justin had experienced. And I wanted it for myself. And for Maggie. My heart pounded.

"Did...does Mick have a sexy cock?" I finally typed with trembling fingers. I moaned out loud when her response was "yes, very yummy." It was instantly clear to me by that adjective that Maggie had rolled the memory of that night around in her erotic mind enough times to perhaps imagine the nearly unthinkable--tasting Mick. Pleasing him with her mouth. I nearly climaxed on the spot.

Maggie is a singularly beautiful person. Inside and out. She's a gorgeous woman who has always reminded me of Pam from "The Office." She has a smile that could melt an ice shelf, and despite her admission, a heart full of only positivity and love. I knew that she was expressing something incredibly intimate and dangerous to me. It made me feel closer to her in almost every way. It made me want to reach through the laptop and hug her and tell her all those wild impulses were perfectly fine. It was just a fantasy, of course. But, my god, could it be more intense? More intimate? I was drawn to it, and to her, like a narcotic.

I knew she was reveling, as well. I knew my questions were exciting her. And so were her answers. I took a bit of a daring leap, partially to diffuse any lingering guilt she may have been experiencing along with her admissions, and partially to lather myself into an even frothier tizzy. Knowing full well there might be a seismic vicarious reaction, I asked Maggie incredibly directly, "would it excite you to watch me take Mick in my mouth?"

We both climaxed together with her answer. I came for her son. And so did Maggie. It was one of the most shockingly powerful orgasms I had ever had. (And so was the next one, for that matter).

Over the next few months, we talked frequently She asked about the experiences in my stories, and I felt like we were blending this new and exciting world world together that was part pure fantasy, but also very personal and real. I shared photos of myself with her, and even photos of Katie. I "introduced" her to my friends and family, occasionally sharing photos, as well. Maggie knew, based on one of my stories about another chat buddy named Nate, that I said yes to his dare of writing his name on my e-cup breasts, I was painfully excited to do the same for Maggie on two occasions--once with both her name and Mick's name scrawled across my tits with Crayola marker, and then most recently a simple "I heart Maggie" wearing lingerie I knew she'd approve of. She loved both. And the second version, despite how tacky we both know it was, was nonetheless quite true. I do love her, and I adore pleasing her in every way.

A year and a half ago, we celebrated here together when Katie and Danny tied the knot in a gorgeous ceremony. I wanted to feel beautiful in Maggie's eyes, so I shared photos from the wedding in my elegant and too-expensive dress. Maggie made me blush with her reaction, and I did feel beautiful. I felt loved. The wedding had me feeling ten kinds of anxiety knowing it was on the heels of my divorce and subsequent same-sex relationship with Alyssa. Seeing the photos, Maggie made me feel accepted, elevated, and very much loved. She's such an amazing woman.

It also became an opportunity to "introduce" her to Kim, my sister. You may remember Kim as my expat sister who lives in China with her husband, and with some measure of infamy as the person who booked my massage in Beijing when I visited many years ago. I knew Maggie was curious. I kind of knew what her reaction would be, and I was very much ok with it.

Without getting into too much exposition, Kim has always been "the pretty one." With model good-looks and a ridiculous figure (and annoyingly several years younger), I shared a photo of her in a spellbinding red dress with a dangerously low neckline that very much showed off what I am certain Kim had meant to show off. Of course I was hotly jealous of her...but with Maggie, everything was ok.

Maggie's reaction was instant. And intense. Nobody who knows my sister could have blamed her. She would be a vision in a burlap sack, but in a figure hugging dress that her seductively milky tits seemed to be fighting to release themselves from, it was too much for Maggie to ignore. I knew what she needed. I was more than happy to give it to her. Coming from someone who had (in a nonetheless cyber way) given her son now-countless blowjobs, we enthusiastically explored innumerable ways for Maggie to have sex with Kim. Sometimes alone. Sometimes with Mick. Sometimes, even, with me. It was new, and vulgar, and borderline deranged....but we loved it. We both loved it.

Maggie, I know you're reading this. I did love it. And I love you. A lot, you wonderful, amazing, gorgeous girl. My friend.

I am happy to say that Maggie and I still chat often. We are as close as two "strangers" can be on this site. And I look forward to talking to her every day, and become sad when a few days go by without some contact.

I know this story may not be a five-star masterpiece. I know that no "actual" sex was had by anyone. It's never been about that for me, and surely not where Maggie is concerned. I think I just wanted an actual record of how much she means to me. But I do hope you all enjoy the story.

Especially Maggie. I love you. :)