I have a cyber-friend with whom I love to flirt. We met on a business message board and became friends through our postings. Our friendship took off from there. We emailed one other. Tried to guess when we might both be online. Finally I suggested we just set a time to chat real time. I'd never chatted with anyone before. Being relatively new to the Internet, I thought I'd just download an instant messenger and that would be it. Dave had other plans. He directed me to a chat site where you can animate a 3d body within a 3d world and asked me to make the large software download essential to making our planned chat work. He asked me to trust him and do it. I did.
At the appointed time, I logged in and appeared in his cyber house. It was amazing. I was in a large cyber living room. I looked around. I jumped when my speakers said, "Hey" in a deep baritone. I managed to use the controls of my cyber body to swivel around and face the other person in the room. My heart was pounding. There he was, sort of. He took me on a magical tour of the many "worlds" on the site.
It was like a perfect dream date. I hadn't dated for 10 years, had never really dated in the conventional sense at all as my husband and I knew we were right for each other from the moment we meant. I flirted with Dave and we agreed that flirting was a fun online game as long as it is innocent. I was attracted to him, but I am happily married and he knew that. Still, I was absolutely enchanted.
After that, we emailed more often. I sent him lengthy emails about myself hoping that this wouldn't turn him away, but with the intention of building up an intimate friendship as quickly as time and distance would allow. We discovered some similar interests and some things to argue about.
As time went on, I mentioned that I had called his house once and heard his answering machine. He wanted to know why I hadn't left a message and I replied that I thought it would have been too intrusive. I'd felt like a total stalker, truth be told. Imagine me calling some man I'd never met because I was curious about him. Can you say restraining order?
He wanted me to call him right away. I was excited by the idea, yet reluctant. What if I said something stupid? What if we didn't get along on the phone as well as we did online? I went to my kitchen and had a bracing glass of orange juice.
I picked up the phone and tried to think of something cool to say, but in the end, it came out sort of jumbled in my nervousness. After the first tense minute we settled into a comfortable, fun filled conversation. We talked for hours. I found that I liked his voice. There were moments when it went deep and other times when it was just soothing. I liked the intonation he put on his phrases. Most of all, I just loved the way his mind worked in a real time conversation. He's so brilliant, articulate and funny that I was dazzled.
We talked often. One night I called and he told me he was drunk. He sounded embarrassed about it, which I found oddly charming. One of his childhood friends had committed suicide and he needed to forget it for a while so he'd rented movies and gotten drunk. He confronted me directly about the way I've always flirted with him. He asked me outright, "So, Sarah, what is this? Do you want to sleep with me or what?" I was stunned. He had just broken our tacit agreement that our friendship would be full of innocent flirting with the spice of unacknowledged sexual tension. I tried to evade the question but he wouldn't let me.
Eventually, I confessed with immense nervousness. "Yes, I guess I do. I can't believe I just told you that. I never intended to ever tell you that."
Amazingly, Dave said, "This should make you feel better, I want to sleep with you too."
The world stopped revolving. My own heartbeat thundered in my ears.
"Really?" I asked dumbly. I guess I secretly wanted him to repeat his admission. Certainly, I could not believe it. I was utterly and absolutely incredulous.
"Yeah really. I wasn't ever going to say anything either but tonight I've reached a point where I just can't have any more bullshit in my life."
"Wow," I said. "How drunk are you?"
"Not that drunk. So, do you fly here or do I fly there?"
What a question! He repeated that question several times during that amazing conversation. He passed it off as a joke, but I felt, and still feel, that he was enjoying saying what he really wanted to say under the universal amnesty of inebriation. I longed to answer his question but I lacked the courage to act upon my desires. He said if I ever really decided that I had to have him, he'd buy me a ticket and I'd come stay with him for the weekend. He said that could be our shared fantasy, which would add spice to our friendship.
Months later, Dave had a new girlfriend whom he adored. He is a very honorable man. A few months ago we had cyber sex. It was totally spontaneous. Our mutual attraction paved the way for it. He was my virtual lover for one glorious evening of "mental bliss." Sadly, the timing was off. Afterwards, he became concerned about whether it would be considered cheating on his new girlfriend. It is this concern that convinces me that nothing will come of our online friendship. Indeed, we shall probably never meet. I'm a happily married mother of 3 living in the comfortable lap of rural suburbia. He is an intelligent single man just entering a new and exciting relationship. Still, I hold precious the seedling jewel of fantasy he planted within my mind.
What if.
What if I answered his question? What if an airline ticket arrived in the mail for me? What if I boarded a plane to spend a fantasy weekend with my online friend? What if I did…?
Friday at exactly 12:05 pm I waited nervously for the plane to roll to a stop at LAS. Las Vegas is one of the world's most exciting tourist destinations. Sin City. Aptly nicknamed for my purposes, for I hoped to be very sinful indeed over the course of this long weekend. I wore a light business suit with a loose flowing skirt and a matching silk blouse. My shining black tresses were unfettered and free to tumble wantonly all the way down my back. I had dark red lipstick on my full Cupid's bow lips in bold contrast to my creamy complexion.
I had never done anything like this before. I hadn't even dated before I'd met my husband. (I am still amazed that my husband let me make this trip. He seemed even more excited by the idea than I was, if such a thing were possible.) I desperately hoped my friend would find me attractive in person. My brow furrowed in self-conscious doubt. What if he doesn't? Don't think like that! What if he does, what if he does? I'm a beautiful woman. People tell me that often enough for me to believe they see me that way. That's better, think positively.
The plane stopped and I waited patiently to deplane. I took a deep fortifying breath as I stepped into the terminal. Looking around I spotted him just ahead. He was just as I thought he would be, just like his photographs only flesh and blood: devastatingly attractive to me. He waited as I walked towards him. He had a single pink rose, which he wordlessly offered to me. Smiling shyly, I accepted it, uncommonly touched by the absolutely unexpected romantic gesture. Feeling reassured, I took a chance. I dropped my carry-on bag at my feet and put my arms around his waist giving my friend a warm hug. I really don't want to be too bold do I? I'm meeting him for the very first time, after all.
What if I were bolder though? Wouldn't it be thrilling to kiss a man you've just met? Isn't that an outrageous and fantastic concept? Absolutely scandalous. Absolutely delicious. I tipped my head back and parted my lips slightly. I shyly lifted my lashes to look directly up into his clear blue eyes. I fervently hoped my expression begged, "Kiss me? Please kiss me." What if he doesn't understand my unspoken request? Worse, what if he understands perfectly but doesn't want to kiss me? What if he's hugging me back just to be warm and polite? I couldn't take that. How humiliating… Don't think like that! What if he does, what if he does?
Eternity was our first eye contact. Waiting, hoping, fearing…
He began to lower his head to mine! Tenderly, our lips met. It was the first actual contact of our skin and it sent an electric jolt down my spine. We'd yet to ever say a word directly to one another. Technically, we were strangers, and yet we were kissing in a crowded airport. Dear God, what a naughty thrill! I felt his warm tongue lovingly caress my lower lip. My heart pounded, my nipples hardened and a moist heat slowly spread between my thighs. Mmmm. I've always appreciated kissing as an Event. His tongue fully entered my mouth. I tilted my head slightly and applied gentle suction to indicate my acceptance of his invasion.
"I'm so glad you came," he whispered against my lips. A wicked retort popped into my mind. I wanted to say it but I stopped myself. He never seemed to like it when I made sexual double entendres. My thought must have showed on my face because he smiled at me in mute acknowledgement before once again fusing his mouth with mine.
I got another thrill when I realized that he was getting an erection. A hard-on for me! For ME! Running my hands down his back, I cupped his firm buttocks and ground my hips against his newly aroused member. He groaned into my mouth.
"Stop that, Sarah," he murmured against my lips.
Instead of being embarrassed, I felt playful. No, it's true! Mischievously, I ground my hips again, slowly drawing out the intense pleasure generated from the friction, turning us both on even further.
"Come on, Girlie,I do believe we need some privacy" He grabbed my carry-on in one hand and put his other arm around my shoulders as we walked quickly through the airport towards the short term parking structure. Unfortunately, we were not alone during the short elevator ride to the correct parking level. Squeezed in with a full load of people and their baggage, I eased in front of him before reaching my hand back to clandestinely stroke him through his jeans. I felt his whole body tense. Uh oh… That was too direct, too obvious, too much, too fast. Damn! Why do I act so impulsively with this man? So slutty? I don't think; I just act. It's really not like me at all. I'm a very distant sort of woman. No matter what they say, men like to make the moves, set the pace... Damn damn damn.
I waited for a tense few seconds. Finally, he leaned down and whispered something naughty into my ear. Relieved beyond words, I laughed softly. I was thoroughly delighted by his wicked humor.
Then…he gently sucked my earlobe into his warm mouth despite the other people in the elevator! Wow. My eyes drifted shut of their own volition. I had to mentally restrain myself from groaning aloud. How did he know I love that?
The elevator stopped and we quickly walked to his forest green car. Opening the passenger door, he put my carry-on in the backseat and then stepped aside for me to get in. Closing my door, he walked around the car and got into the driver's seat.
About to put his keys into the ignition, he turned to me instead. "Come here, you" I scooted over in the seat and leaned towards him. Our mouths met in a passionate kiss, our tongues simultaneously dueling and mating. I felt his hand slip into my suit jacket to cup my right breast though the thin silk of my blouse. His thumb flicked across my hard nipple. Pulling apart for a minute, he leaned his forehead against mine as the sound of our breathing filled the charged atmosphere of his car.
"I knew you would be a great kisser," I said while staring into his blue eyes, my own brown eyes shining with unspoken passion. I knew that my cheeks were flushed with arousal and my lips were slightly swollen from our delicious kisses.
"You could just tell, huh? You think you know me that well?"
"I don't know you as well as I'd like, but I'm working on it," I said with a wicked grin.
He smiled too, before putting the keys into the ignition. We were silent as he drove out of the airport and pulled onto the highway. I got my first real glimpse of the famous Las Vegas skyline. Leaning forward in my seat, I stared at the wild architecture uncaring that I must seem like the quintessential rustic tourist. I'm not really rustic, honest. I'm actually quite cosmopolitan and well traveled. It's just that I have a love of daring architecture and, for me, there is nothing to compare to the buildings in Las Vegas. Indeed, they are incomparably opulent.
