The view from my window was pretty bleak. The rain poured in buckets, thunder rumbled in the distance, and the wind kicked trash across my yard from the overturned can. I wouldn't be leaving the house any time soon. I don't suppose it really mattered anyway. I had nowhere to go. I pushed the button to turn on my computer. Ready for another boring day filled with proof reading horribly written, useless books. "Yipeeeee." I muttered aloud.
I decided to take a nice, hot shower to get me moving. I turned the coffee pot on, and stripped off my faded flannel pajamas. I stood in front of the mirror for a minute, doing what I always did. I pinched at my belly. I turned to the side to assess the situation. The woman looking back at me was curvy. An hourglass figure as they say. I thought I could stand to lose a few pounds, but never got the motivation. Hmmm... I guess it wasn't too bad, I thought, pursing my pouty pink lips. I ran my hands over my full hips and rounded ass. Acceptable.
In the shower, I stood under the streaming water and breathed a long sigh. I would live in the shower if I could. It was my favorite place to be. I pumped the shampoo into my hands and gathered my long, brown waves into a pile of suds on the top of my head. I squirted the sweet smelling body wash onto my loofah and started to scrub. The soap made my body slippery and smooth. I dropped the loofah, closed my eyes, and ran my hands over my large, swaying breasts. Mmmm... that was nice. My nipples already stood at attention, waiting to be tugged and pinched.
Completely lost in myself, I played with left breast, while my right hand glided down my belly and rested between my legs. I lifted one foot to the ledge of the tub, giving myself better access to the hot, velvety, opening that awaited me. I moaned as I slipped one finger inside, sliding it in and out slowly. My thumb found my clit, swollen, and begging for attention. I rubbed with fervor, feeling the familiar warmth spreading through my thighs as my pleasure heightened. The water ran over my shoulders, hot, like the orgasm that was building. I moaned as the climax washed over me.
After my invigorating shower, I was ready to face the world, or at least my computer room. I grabbed a cup of coffee and got to work. I needed to finish proof reading a book about gardening. After, I had a new author waiting. It's always nice to get something new. I trudged through the endlessly boring rubble that was supposed to make me want to become an expert gardener. Around noon I finished with a sigh. I grabbed a banana and another cup of coffee before getting ready to dive into the next job.
I sat down and opened the newest email in my inbox. Attached was a file titled "A night with Lila". I opened it, and began to read. A few paragraphs in, I realized what I was getting in to. In front of me, a tantalizing story unfolded. The vividly written scenes brought images of dangerous, rough, sex to my mind. I looked around, as though someone might catch me reading such sensual things. I was almost a third of the way through the story, with my fingers inside my sporty pink panties, feeling very warm inside, when I realized I wasn't even doing my job. Instead, I was breathing heavily and squirming in my chair. I started again from the beginning. The story was surprisingly well written. I made a few corrections here and there. Before I knew it I was finished with the proofing. I sent the document back to its owner with my suggestions attached. Right before hitting the "send" button, I boldly typed "Great work. I certainly does as it's intended."
I regretted it as soon as the email was off in cyberspace. So much for professionalism. I pushed my chair away from the desk and got up. I went to the kitchen to fix myself some dinner. I couldn't stop thinking about the story. My cheeks flushed as I anticipated the author reading my comment. I wondered if he was good looking. What if he replied?
After I was finished with my dinner, I ran back to my computer. I clicked on the inbox folder to see a new message. Sender: Ryan Lewis. I hovered the cursor over the new message for a while, then clicked. "Oh really? Care to expand on that?" Was the reply. I stared at the words for a minute. The little green light next to his name told me he was currently online. Before I could change my mind I sent him an instant message.
"Well, I was pretty deep into the story before I even remembered what I was supposed to be doing." I typed.
"And what were you doing instead?" He shot back.
"I was exploring inside my panties." I sent swiftly. I couldn't believe what I was doing.
"Mmmm... really? Tell me about it." He commanded.
"I shouldn't be doing this. I never do things like this." I said, starting to feel a little embarrassed.
"It's just words. Just like my story. Only words." He said. "I touch myself while I write. Why shouldn't you while you read?"
That WAS true. I mean, those stories were meant to make you hot and bothered. I was only human.
"Well, thank you for your suggestions. I'd love to use you in the future." Ryan sent.
"I'd like that too. You're welcome to use me any time." I giggled as I sent that one.
"I'll remember that Carla. Good night." Was his final message.
I couldn't sleep that night. The conversation I'd shared with Ryan played again in my head. I didn't even know the guy and I was fantasizing about him. Anyone who wrote like that had to be decent in the sack, right? I imagined we were alone in the dark. I could see nothing but his silhouette in the moonlight. His hands played over my naked body, working slowly up my soft, creamy thighs. My legs spread wide on the bed. I could smell my sex in the air. My lips parted as I panted. I shoved a large dildo into my slippery pussy, imagining him pushing roughly into me. Moaning with abandon, I fucked myself hard. Sweat glistened on my body. I couldn't remember the last time a fantasy got me that worked up. As the orgasm hit, I fell back on my bed, shaking, and tired. I slept like a rock. My dreams scattered with images of a strange man claiming my body over and over.
In the morning I woke feeling refreshed and rushed to turn my computer on. I tapped impatiently, waiting for everything to load. When it did, I pulled my email up immediately. Nothing new. I was a little disappointed, though I suppose it takes time to write new stories. I bustled about the house all morning, cleaning, doing laundry, and paying some bills. Around lunch time I checked my computer again. A new job was waiting from a repeat client, and an instant message from Ryan.
"Good morning! I was hoping that you might be free to check out another story of mine. I'm thinking about compiling several into one book. What do you think?" Ryan asked.
"Send it on over!" I typed excitedly.
Less than 5 minutes later, I was deeply engrossed in the new story Ryan sent. I knew I should be working on the projects in order, but I couldn't help myself. This story didn't disappoint. By the end I was getting myself off yet again. Petty soon I was just going to be a nympomaniac. Could that term apply to me, if I were only fucking myself? I opened the instant messenger and sent Ryan a message. "Very good. Thanks for the morning quickie." I found it was getting easier to say those things. I wasn't sure if I liked that or not.
Over the next week, I talked to Ryan several times a day. I proofed 4 more of his stories, each better than the last. Every time, I found myself masturbating just thinking about what I had read, and the man behind it. We spent hours every evening chatting. We shared more than I would have ever thought I'd share with a stranger. Suddenly, it didn't really feel like we were strangers at all. I found myself very attracted to this man I had never even seen. One night before bed I decided to say as much. "Your stories turn me on, but it's thoughts of you that make me cum every night." I sent, before quickly shutting my computer off.
In the morning, I couldn't even wait to start up the computer. I opened the messenger app on my phone to see his reply. "I want to meet you."
Fuck. What had I gotten myself into?I couldn't meet him! This was crazy! You don't just run around meeting internet strangers. I didn't answer his message. I got up and started working on proofing a book about cats. All morning I tried to concentrate, but couldn't. Finally I went back to the message and simply said exactly what I was thinking. "I want to. I do. It's just that... I'm extremely nervous about meeting a complete stranger."
"Are we really strangers Carla? I don't believe that. You know an awful lot about me. I'm not asking to come by your house. I want to meet in public. Maybe dinner?" Ryan responded.
My fingers hesitated over the keys. I wasn't sure I could do this. "I can't." I sent. I felt sad. I really wanted to.
"Ok." Was all I got back.