We Met On Literotica

Disclaimer. The youngest character in this story is 22

I know that I am a somewhat under confident forty-something, but that's the hand I've been dealt, so that's the hand I'm going to play. Married? Was. Children? Yes but fledged. On my own? Certainly.

My real sex life, as I start this tale, is in the doldrums. Actually it's totally becalmed, in an glass smooth ocean of erotic memories and fantasies, but absolutely no action. So I happily admit to getting off by reading erotic literature and pleasuring myself, when I read something really hot.

The thing is, what do I find truly erotic? Not the blow by blow accounts of bonking, but more the build up, the tension, the what comes next? That's the exciting bit for me.

I had read lots of stories, by lots of authors, but I gravitated towards stories from younger men that had been rated hot, particularly if they had been rated hot by any of my favourite female authors. After all, girls know best what turns a girl on, and this proved to be a happy hunting ground, even if the process was actually quite tedious.

And so it was that I eventually stumbled on Tim. His writing always got me going and shouted pleasure, slow, beautifully built up, almost painful, expectation.

I read his profile.

Gender Male

Weight Slim

Height 5'10"

Location Southern Spain

Orientation Straight

Interested in Mature

Status Single

Smoke No

Drink Seldom

Fetishes Sexy underwear, stockings and suspenders

I'm a 22 year old waiting to see what life has to offer.

So Tim styled himself as a young, pretty inexperienced lad. Old enough to be legal, of course, but not one of those, 'As I stuck my dick in she came' sort of authors. He also expressed an interest in mature women and lived in Southern Spain, as do I. Well a girl can dream, can't she?

The unexpected part was his biopic. In the top left hand corner of his biography was a thumbnail picture of this tallish, slim lad, on a beach, staring out to sea. The photo was a rear view, taken from some distance away, but the surprise was that he was obviously naked. Stark naked, on a beach, staring out to sea, with not a care in the world. As an afterthought, he had totally delicious buttocks!

His writing had a romantic streak. The stories contained details of old fashioned seduction techniques and he described his ladies in great detail. The real bonus was that a few of his stories seemed to idolise older women and possibly, just possibly, he lived within striking distance. Either way I decided a sexy chat would be fun, and provide masturbation material if nothing else.

I read everyone of his stories and reread one or two. They were a little naïve, but really got my sap rising, so I decided to use the contact key and told him my Literotica name, that I was a mature woman who loved his writing style. I added that I never wore tights, always stockings, and would love to hear from him, adding my personal email address for a reply.

He took the bait! Not that this was a trap, nothing of the kind, just a mutually beneficial chance to chat and swap ideas. He replied, a little cagily, and we started to swap emails. I really looked forward to his jottings and he always replied promptly. As we both wrote erotica there was a lot less ice to break than in a personal encounter.

In one of my early emails I asked about his biopic, which I termed 'rear view of a naked man starring out to sea'. He replied that he lived near a clothing optional beach and often went there to sunbathe and swim. It was a pretty isolated beach and this suited him, as he claimed to be a bit shy. He just liked being naked in the open air.

Then he ventured to ask if he could have a picture of me. I was unsure at first, as having my picture splashed all over the internet was not in my plan. However, he made it plain that there was no requirement for me to be naked, just wearing some sexy underwear, a bit like a Vogue lingerie shot. I could also crop the pic to de identify it.

I have to say I found the prospect a tad exciting. It was only a little bit naughty, but it felt much more risqué than that. I sorted through my underwear drawer and came up with a few sets of Victoria's Secret that showed me off at my best.

Top of my list was a pair of sheer black stockings and putting them on while sitting on my bed. Otherwise naked it started to send little shivers through me. Then, on with the midnight blue suspender belt and I put the ensemble together. I cannot deny that I was at least tempted to take a few shots before putting on my nickers, purely for my personal consumption, but I resisted.

On with the matching lacy panties that didn't actually reveal anything, if only just, and the push up bra. I did a twirl in front of the mirror to see if I was satisfied with the results. Not bad, not bad at all, but would a twenty two year old agree?

I set up my iPad on the dressing table and, using the ten second delay mode, started on my David Bailey mission. I took lots of pictures, front view, side view, rear view and so on, even a few with a coquettish smile, over my shoulder, as I bent forward in the Literotica logo pose.

I managed to de identify them and selected my favourite, a three quarter front view that didn't emphasise my tummy bulge and showed off my boobs to best advantage. The only slightly revealing thing was that it was obvious that I have no pubic hair, such was the skimpy nature of Victoria and her secret. Vogue eat your heart out!

So I sent it off to Tim and did that ever stir up the hornet's nest? I got rave reviews from the editor of Vogue, or Tim at any rate. Of course he wanted more, but I felt that that was enough of a taster for now: it made me feel quite special. This was the first ever photo of me being deliberately provocative and it had worked. Not only had it worked, but it worked on a much younger man.

Our emails got more and more personal and I found it thrilling to answer questions to a stranger, questions nobody else on the planet knew the answer to. I asked my fair share as well and we eventually exchanged phone numbers and SMSd each other frequently.

I knew he called his penis 'Harry' for some inexplicable reason, but it made me laugh. He frequented clothing optional beaches but preferred the deserted ones to avoid the possibility of embarrassing erections. He just like to swim naked and be naked on the beach.

He, in turn, knew I referred to my vagina as my VJ, that my boobs, the girls, were a passable 36B, and I shaved my VJ rather than waxing it. Not to mention a whole load of other very personal information.

Then the SMSs started.

"What are you wearing today?"

"A blouse and skirt."

" I mean under that!"

"A front opening bra and matching panties, in black."

"Front opening panties? This I have to see."

"No silly, the panties match the bra!"

"I prefer to imagine the other option!"

"Randy boy."

"Your fault, you mentioned front opening panties!"

"Down boy."

"Too late, Harry already showing interest."

Was he kidding? Just a simple bit of banter and he was getting turned on? I must admit it wasn't doing me any harm either.

Later that day the SMSs continued.

"What are you doing tonight?"

"Apart from a wild erotic fantasy about you and your front opening panties?"

"Yes apart from that!"

"Supper, then a naughty film I guess, and you?"

"Much the same, only probably finish up with a session with Mr Magic Rabbit."

"Ah, hence the front opening panties."

"Will you get over the front opening panties thing?"

"Not a chance. Not until you send me a pic. Something for Harry to look forward to!"

I had so enjoyed the photo session and how sexy it made me feel that I had another go that weekend. This time it was a bit more daring, no bra and tanga nickers, only just covering the essentials. I figured he went to nudist beaches so this would be pretty tame stuff.

My phone pinged.

"Have you ever been to a clothing optional beach?"

"No! I'm a mature woman and not a super model."

"You look pretty fit to me."

"Well I go to the gym."

"He he, No fit, as in sexy fit, as in I fantasise about being in bed with you and exploring every inch of your body, and, of course, to see your face too."

"Oh really?"

"You should go to a clothing optional beach. Google one near you and go. You will love the feeling of freedom and confidence and be surprised at how well you compare. Not that it's a competition it's just fun."

"I'll think it over."

"No, this is your challenge for the weekend! Do it for you, for yourself, even if you don't get naked, try topless. Those girls look like they could use some fresh air!"

The weekend came and I had thought about it, I had even found such a beach only ten kilometres away. I drove to the car park and sat in the car with my pulse racing. What was I thinking? Going naked in public! No way. Then his words came back to me. 'Do it for you, for yourself.' I got out of the car and walked down the steep path to the secluded cove where there was a big sign Playa Naturista.

I stepped onto the sand and made my way towards the sea and an open space. Everyone was naked. Absolutely everyone. Not a stitch of clothing in sight, in any direction.

I spread my towel and took off my skirt and blouse leaving me in my bikini, which I had previously thought pretty daring for my age. After a short while I felt somewhat conspicuous, even in my bikini and when I realised there was no-one who could possibly recognise me, I undid my top and put it aside.

My first exploration into topless sunbathing, and nobody even looked! The didn't even look because everyone else was naked. There were willies, vaginas, and boobs everywhere, not showing off, not comparing, simply enjoying the sun.

The conspicuous feeling continued as I fiddled with my bottle of sun screen, playing for time. Was I going to do this? Did I really dare? Where was the problem? Nobody cared! I could have sat there all afternoon in a trench coat and wellies and nobody else would give a tuppenny damn.

So after much rationalising, off came the bikini bottoms. I, VJ, and the girls were out, in public, for the first time, but the sky stayed where it was! There were no police sirens, and actually nothing changed at all. In less than five minutes I was enjoying the feeling of the sun and gentle breeze on skin that had not been lucky enough to experience that sensation.

I sunbathed face down getting used the the breeze on my bum. Later on I ventured to turn over and lie on my back, the sensation was terrific as the breeze wafted over my skin, particularly my breasts and VJ. Before the afternoon was out I had actually taken a walk along the beach, with VJ and the girls out in the fresh air, and we really enjoyed it, what's more nobody even noticed or cared.

My fingers fumbled with my phone.

"I did it!"

"Well done you, nice isn't it?"

"Bloody gorgeous! And nobody stared!"

"Disappointed?"

"Not at all; delighted! There were all shapes and sizes there, made me feel quite good about myself."

"Where did you go?"

"I found Benalnatura on internet and went for it."

"My absolute favourite."

"What?"

" I go there all the time. Gets busy in summer, but this time of year is fine."

"Bloody hell. I could have bumped into you!"

"Neither of us would have realised!"

I continued to frequent Benalnatura and enjoy the simple pleasure of being naked in the fresh air. Was I secretly scouring the beach for a boy called Tim? I pretend that I wasn't, but I don't really know.

A few days later my phone pinged with another SMS.

"Did you see that French film last night?"

"No, did I miss something?"

"Did you ever! It was soooo hot."

"How hot?"

"Not boring porn hot, proper hot. I had to take Harry in hand after."

"That's a lot of information."

"Your picture helped too."

Oh my god, Tim was talking about masturbating to a fantasy that included me in Victoria's Secret nickers and my naked breasts. Strangely fascinating and it didn't do my ego any harm at all.

"Glad to be of service."

"Where's your favourite place?"

"For what?"

"Masturbating of course, shower, bath or bed?"

"Do I have to answer?"

"Only if you don't want me to go to bed frustrated."

"Couldn't have that: bed."

"Hand or vibrator?"

"This is getting very personal!"

" I know, delicious isn't it?"

"More hand than vibrator."

"And your favourite fantasy while doing it?"

"Do you think I'm going to tell you that?"

"You most certainly are!"

"What makes you so confident."

"I'm the guy who got you to walk down the beach naked, remember?"

"Fair enough. I'll swap for yours."

"I am on a deserted Benalnatura, staring out to sea when a mature woman creeps up behind me, presses her 36Bs into my back, reaches round to Harry and his pals, strokes him gently while massaging his friends until, well just until. Your go."

"I am in a hotel, on a giant bed, with a young, slim, man who wants to be shown how to really pleasure a woman. Massage, oral, and then lets me ride him, cowgirl, at a slow rising trot, to the finishing post."

"Must dash, Harry needs me!"

"Wanker!"

There was something strangely erotic and very, very, sexy about discussing these personal details with someone else. Nobody on this earth knew as much about my sex life or fantasies as Tim.

On Saturday my phone pinged again.

"Do you use WhatsAp?"

"Yes sometimes."

"Fancy a face to face chat, now that we know each other?"

"Not sure, I might be embarrassed thinking about how many of my darkest secrets you know."

"Dare you!"

Some time later we started using WhatsAp. It was fun to chat face to face and I felt I had known him for years. WhatsAp conversations were pretty uninhibited too, but took a new turn one Sunday.

"Have you ever seen that web site where girls film themselves masturbating, but all you see is their faces?"

"Is that true?"

"Certainly. They set up their camera, or whatever, make sure all you can see is their face, then they masturbate to orgasm. It's so bloody hot!"

"I've not seen that, but I will admit that I love looking at a man's face when he comes. It's so animal!"

"So it's a date then?"

" It most certainly is not! No way on this planet!"

I cannot believe I have just been talking to someone I hardly know about masturbating on camera, even if it was only my face in shot. The more I thought about it the more I realised the prospect was really quite exciting, and I was getting, shall we say, obviously excited.

So, I thought, why not try it but, without the WhatsAp? Just film yourself then delete it afterwards. I went to my room, set up my trusty iPad on the dressing table so that it looked directly at my face, made sure nothing else was in shot, and stripped off. I always prefer to pleasure myself in the nude where everything is easily accessible.

After a few false starts, I got all the settings right and by this time I was quite turned on. I lay down and put Mr Magic Rabbit to work as I played with my nipples, stroking them gently to erection.

I hadn't realised quite how turned on I was, because the familiar sensations started really quite quickly. It was so delicious that I teased for a while, taking myself close, but not over the edge.

Mr Rabbit had done a good job so I put him aside and took myself to the very brink a few times by clenching my VJ muscles without any other direct stimulation. Eventually the temptation overcame me, I lightly touched my clit and had a stars bursting, nipple sparking, clit exploding, orgasm.

I lay there, panting, for a good while enjoying the best afterglow for ages. Then I looked at my cinematographic efforts. I had succeeded in only showing my face, sure you could tell I was probably topless, but nothing showed so I was pretty satisfied.

Then I came to the orgasm bit. I was not expecting that. If, like me, you've never seen yourself cum, then I highly recommend it. I had no idea that my face contorted like that, or that I made those noises! The net result was that it brought the whole experience back into focus. It was quite a turn on in itself in a tingly sort if way.

So, would I do it live? What if it was a flop? Would it be even more thrilling, knowing I was being watched?

I remember, years ago, noticing that I was being watched while my boyfriend, later my husband, and I made love in a rather unusual place. My first reaction was surprise, followed by horror, but it didn't stop me. We were young and massively in lust. I was on my back, with my legs wrapped round his waist while he was going for gold. I confess that I found the fact that I was being observed a real turn on. I came pretty hard.

That should have taught me something. I may be under confident, but have a bit of an exhibitionist streak when pushed. No wonder I enjoyed my walks along the beach.

I still hadn't answered my own question, was I going to do it live with Tim watching? I know lots of men fantasise about watching women masturbate and Tim knows more about me that any other man on this planet. Would it turn him on?

Later that day I couldn't resist sending.

"Did you watch many girls on that web site."

"Masturbating?"

"Yes."

"Quite a few."

"Dd it really turn you on?"

"Oh yea!"

"So how abut a middle aged woman?"

"Are you suggesting.....?"

"Yea, I'm suggesting."

"Shit that's hot. What made you change your mind?"

"A practice recording with my iPad."

"Do you still have it?"

"Ummm not telling."

"So you do! You do, you sexy thing!"

We discussed the plan for how the session would go and it was set for the following evening at nine pm. I spent the whole day checking and rechecking everything. I even spent half the evening in the bath, primping. I know that makes no sense, he's only going to see my face after all, but that's not the point. I wanted to feel sexy.

WhatsAp pinged. I jumped. I was expecting the call but I still jumped.

"How was your day?"

How was my bloody day? How could he ask such a banal question? We were about to watch each other masturbate, the most intimate act I've ever performed in front of any man, and he asks me about my day?

" Good and yours?"

"Good too thanks. Are you still ..."

"I'm getting pretty cold feet."

" Me too."

"Well it was your idea. So what put you off."

"I tried it last night, just like you did, and most of it's not very interesting! The orgasm's OK but the build up is a bit tedious."

"So shall we bin that idea?"

I cannot deny that I felt disappointed. I found the idea of watching him cum quite exciting. I've always enjoyed missionary or cowgirl so the I can look into a man's eyes as he ejaculates deep inside me.

"I still have my recording, do you?"

"What are you suggesting?"

"Edited highlights?"

There followed a lengthy lesson on editing, and I was not at all sure I could do it but we agreed to give it a try. We would limit it to starting at the first obvious change in facial expression to the end.

I spent the next day pressing edit, getting yellow boxes and saving as "New Clip" but eventually I got rid of all the tedious bits and only had the bits after Mr Magic Rabbit. The edgy bit and, of course, the orgasm.

I know I was laying myself open to being splashed over the internet, but all you could see was my face and I might have been in pain for all the observer would know. We agreed to send each other the clips and call back later.

I watched his clip. He was giving a commentary! Was this intentional? He was obviously referring to the latest picture I had sent him because my breasts came in for a lot of praise as did my stockings and suspenders. He talked about stroking my nipples and bum, burying himself deep inside me, feeling my clit rub on his pelvis.