Author's Note: These short fantasies started off as weekly mini-stories for my readers, but the newsletter was shut down because autoresponders do not accept adult content. I thus decided to publish these fantasies for free for my readers to enjoy. It is meant to entertain, so please do not leave hateful comments if everything is not perfect. I am only human after all.
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Have you ever had one of those fantasies? You know, the ones that feel so real you begin to wonder if you are actually imagining them. Well, I do... because I have them all the time! Sometimes, they turn into a story, but mostly they remain trapped inside my brain. That is, until now...
I'm a workaholic. Most people think that's a bad thing, but how can loving your job be bad? I love to write and I'm not about to apologize for it, even if it means putting other parts of my life on hold. Given my hectic schedule over the last couple of months, my social life is on its deathbed. And let's not even talk about the state of my love life. But I guess we have to since that's what this fantasy is all about.
I was content spending the next few months—or years, depending on how long it took for me to make a living from my writing—alone. My friend was not. She is the type of friend who isn't satisfied until every one of her friends is in a relationship. Usually, I can't stand such people, but she was one of my best friends, so I had learned to live with it.
She had been trying to convince me to get back into the dating game for the past few months and it was only out of a desire for peace that I finally agreed to let her help me create a profile on a dating site. The plan was to create the profile, forget about it and return to my workaholic lifestyle.
Fate had other plans.
I was hesitant at first, but my friend assured me online dating was no longer reserved for losers and freaks. It was now the number-one way to meet new people, be it for long-term relationships or one-night stands.
I was hoping to get it over with quickly, but my friend insisted on doing things properly. She convinced me to make an evening of it. We started with a photo shoot, before moving on to the actual creation of the profile. That part was rather fun—in case you haven't noticed, I rather enjoy writing. By the time my profile page was up and running, it was past midnight and my friend finally decided it was time for her to head home. As soon as she was gone, I shut down my computer and planned on forgetting all about this dating nonsense.
No such luck.
The first thing I do each morning is go online and check my emails. I usually have around a dozen emails. This time, I had over a hundred. As you probably already guessed, most of them were from the dating site, informing me of the interest other members had shown in my profile. I considered blocking the email address, but the popularity of my profile convinced me to give this online dating thing a try.
Most of the messages I had received were from horny men asking if I was really a lesbian and if me and one of my friends would be interested in joining them for a little fun. I never understood why men are so aroused by lesbians, but I guess it has something to do with wanting something they cannot have.
After deleting all the hookup requests from men, I was left with a little under a dozen messages. Most of those were from butch women. I may be a lesbian, but that doesn't mean I like women that look like men. I was about to give up hope when one of the messages caught my attention. Actually, it was the profile picture that accompanied it that truly caught my eye.
The woman in the picture was beautiful. Breathtaking.
My heart started to race as I clicked on it. A quick study of her profile page confirmed my suspicions. She was a knockout. Part of me was reticent, because I was afraid the images I now saw had nothing to do with the woman who had created the profile. But if by some bizarre stroke of luck, the woman behind the profile was the same as the one in the pictures, I would be passing up the opportunity of a lifetime.
I took a chance and answered her message. We emailed each other a few times and it quickly became clear we had more in common than just a good taste in clothes. The more we spoke, the more interests I discovered we shared. It was beginning to feel like perhaps this online dating thing was not such a bad idea after all.
Then she did something that ruined everything. She asked to meet me. Part of me was afraid I would discover she was in fact a fat, old man pretending to be a beautiful young woman. Another part of me was afraid I would not live up to her expectations—on the off chance that she actually was who she claimed to be. But even with all those odds stacked against us, I chose to abide by my new philosophy—live life to the fullest—and give love a chance.
Three days later, I was entering the restaurant she—for the purposes of this story, let's call her Candy—had picked for our first date. I was so nervous my hands were shaking. But then I saw her.
She was even more beautiful than in her pictures. She stood halfway across the restraint floor, but I could tell she was every bit the woman she claimed to be on her profile.
She hadn't yet seem me, so I took a few moments to study her before I introduced myself. She was so beautiful. With her long legs and thin waist. With the chocolate waterfall of hair that cascaded down her back. Discussing the beauty of her breasts somehow feels like an insult to her beauty, but I am obligated to mention it because that is what brought the fantasy that had been growing within me bubbling to the surface.
I barely had time to realize what was happening before reality started to fade. In a matter of seconds, my surroundings had been replaced by an identical fantasy world. Everything looked the same, but I now knew I could do whatever I pleased without fear of repercussions.
I somehow managed to keep the arousal that coursed through my veins contained long enough to introduce myself. Her voice was soft and sensual and the sound of it brought a great wetness to my pussy. As for the shivers of arousal that ran down my spine, they were a result of the skin-tight dress she wore.
We exchanged small talk. I am rather shy by nature, so I took a sip of water every few seconds to keep my hands busy. It worked quite well to keep my nervousness in check, but it soon brought to light a small detail I had up until then failed to notice.
I had to pee. The timing was horrible, but nature was calling and I knew I could not resist its beckoning voice for long. I held out as long as I could before excusing myself. As soon as I was out of sight, I started to run and burst into the bathroom moments later.
They say peeing when you really need to go is similar to having an orgasm. They're right. I had to put a hand over my lips just to keep from moaning.
When I was done, I washed my hands and opened the bathroom door. Before I could step out, I was forced back inside. I lost my balance and crashed to the tilled floor. My heart started to race and adrenaline began pumping through my veins. I was ready for a fight, but all violence instantly fled my body when I realized who my attacker was.
It was Candy. The twinkle in her eyes told me violence was the last thing on her mind. Sex was a whole other story.
She locked the door and crossed the room in two strides.
