Night Moves

I anxiously waited at my computer desk, uncertain if I should really do this. My anxiety clawing at me, saying turn back. Nothing good will come of this. I typed in the search bar, hands shaking a little sex chat sites. I've never visited one in fear that this wasn't proper behavior. But still, my curiosity got the better of me, and I wanted to talk to others sexually. At 24, I denied myself my cravings.

I read plenty of stories and had some flings with boys. but after getting my heart eviscerated, I clamed up and started to deny that I was a sexual being. The guilt of being sexual hung heavy on me, and each subsequent time I had been, I was taken advantage of. The only thing I really indulged in was reading sexual content. I took a deep breath, looking through the results.

I clicked the first one that wasn't an ad listing. It asked me to make a screen name. I thought for a moment. What should it be? I thought maybe a pun one? Maybe a more degrading one? or maybe one advertising what I was looking for? or what I had to offer? None of them seemed me. I thought about it. Come on! This shouldn't be so hard. Just type. horny4you69 or something. but as I sat there, none of that seemed for me.

I finally typed how I felt ouroboros. I was pleased when the user name wasn't taken and I was permitted to enter the chat. instantly messages flashed across my screen; obvious regulars were bantering with newer people, asking how's chat, and others looking for role-play scenes. I saw a notification in my inbox. I clicked it; a bot was advertising something with a link. I disregarded it. A few more notifications came in another bot, then a hi message, which I responded with hey. another with a role-play scene that didn't appeal to me.

I happily responded to each message till the person had to go or the conversation fizzled out, or I ended it. I was getting tired of the person insisting I share pictures or a description of myself, which I refused each time, but still, for some reason, they persisted. I was a few hours into this site, getting bored of the seemingly less than inspired messages I was receiving. I had role-played a little bit, but nothing was really catching my fancy till. One message popped up.

The screen name intrigued me. Gilded it read, and they messaged me, saying, How have you been, Ouroboros? I responded back with fine. We chatted a little bit about just mundane things. I was enjoying his conversation; he was nice with a sprinkle of humor that matched my own. He even has read my favorite book series, which made me ecstatic that someone else had actually heard of it. We chatted into the early hours of the morning. I was starting to get tired; my thoughts were muddling together, and I told Gilded that I had to go to bed. He typed back to me, Will you be back? I paused, thinking about it.

I hadn't intended to stay on the site. The conversations on it had not been what I hoped, but he... He made it worth it. I typed back, Yes, my screen name will be the same, and I'd ask you about the book series we like. Gilded typed back then. Good night, Ouroboros. Good night, Gilded I replied. I signed off and headed to bed.

The following weeks, me and Gilded talked, I grew more comfortable of his company. After a few months with gentle prodding, I had divulged some of my sexual longings. I was anxious in sharing them; I didn't wish for him to think of me as a sexual deviant or lesser for them. But to my relief, he soothed me, saying that my cravings were normal and to not be so hard on myself.

He was doing all he could to ease my guilt of sex, even though he may not have known how deep my anxiety and subsequent longing of it went. He was ever gentle in his approach with me, and as my ease of him grew, I divulged more, and he to admitted fantasies of his. He was apparently well versed in many sexual proclivities and said that he was a dominate. that had been to many clubs that had enacted and participated in many scenes with others. After he told me about some of the scenes, I had finally admitted to him that I fantasized about being a submissive.

He queried Why haven't I seized my chance? I replied that I hadn't had the courage to do so. My guilt over my proclivities clawed deep in my psyche. I was also afraid of opening myself up to that avenue and being taken advantage of. He gently changed the subject after I refused to type back. He asked me if there was anything exciting happening in my life. I perked up, yes! I typed that there's a new snow leopard exhibit opening at my local zoo. I was hoping to attend the opening day. I would be excitedly gazing at the big cats as they went about their day. Gilded typed sounds exciting. I hope you have a fun time. I typed back. I hope so too. Goodnight, Gilded.

I signed off for the night; it was late, and I was tired. I had work at a local nicknack shop in the morning. I curled into bed after brushing my teeth and slipping into my pajamas and drifted off to sleep. I awoke early the next morning, trudging out of bed to eat breakfast, brush my teeth, and shower, getting ready for work.

I walk out of my apartment, heading off to work. and spent my day restocking shelves and helping customers. I got home and ate dinner. I was tired from the long day I had. I heard a ping from my computer. I walked over and saw a message from Gilded. I smiled to myself opening it. Hey, how has your day been?

it read I replied back fine. mainly tiring, but that's alright. He replied, Ouroboros, what do you like to do for fun? I thought for a minute he has never really asked about hobbies, just sexual stuff, which makes sense since we're on a sex chat site. I typed I like fishing, skating, hanging out by the sea, and playing card games at my local comic shop. He replied, That's pretty cool. I typed, Yeah, I play every Saturday and try to skate every Friday, or so get some exercise in, ya know? He wrote back that he enjoyed going to the gym and working out, and that he also enjoyed fishing and the sea. I was delighted that we had some hobbies in common.

I felt a little fluttering in my heart, and I shook my head. No, I told myself this man was probably half way around the world, and even if he wasn't, he wouldn't be that interested in you. I quelled those feelings and shoved any thoughts of what it's like out of my head. I moved off from my computer screen. I needed some fresh air. I opened the window near my bed and took a deep breath. The early summer night air was sweet with the scent of all the fresh plants that grew during the spring rains. I smelled the rich soil and the faint sweet smell of flowers, far off the flowing creek of water. even further and sweeter than anything else the faintest smell of the sea. It's clean scent clung to me, and I ached to run to it but stilled myself.

I had to stay here. I had work in the morning, and I was bound to the realities of being an adult. I couldn't just drop everything and head off for a long night's run to the ocean. I shook my head and went back to my computer. Gilded had messaged me. He was asking me what I liked about being submissive. I cocked my head, thinking deeply. I typed to him the freedom in letting go of trusting in another to have your back, knowing your safe that they know you intimately and can give you what you crave.

I was rambling, I wasn't sure why submissiveness strummed so deeply in my heart. I had stumbled across BDSM-related content when I was 18 looking for just romance novels. The story, although not great, introduced many feelings I didn't understand and feared was very wrong. I looked more into it, reading more stories. I often wished I could let go and be the submissive in the stories I read. But my guilt of sex and being a sexual deviant held me back. This wasn't proper behavior, I always told myself. You'll just get hurt, like every time you try to connect sexually with another. I sighed. I had repressed myself deeply for years. the weight of guilt and fear spurred this action. I had such difficulty getting and staying aroused that I had all but given up.

Gilded was as kind as ever with his response, gently soothing my fears. He suggested that since I so desired to let go and be submissive, that maybe I would permit him to dominate me. He could rent a hotel room, I could establish safe calls I would be safe, he reassured me.

I wavered and dismissed it. I don't think I could do it. gilded, I typed. I'm too scared. I openly admitted to him that it's easy to say you won't hurt me, and it's easy to say you'd come all the way here and rent a hotel room for us. But it's just that words I've learned many times they mean nothing. I am also quite ordinary-looking and wish not to break what you've made up of me in your head. I don't think you'll like me that much. IRL, he seemed a little dejected in his response.

Ouroboros, when are you going to see the snow leopards? He queried This Saturday! My mood always improved when talking about my favorite animal. I plan on going early Saturday morning, hoping that I will avoid any crowds. a nice quiet morning of observing big cats I typed hopeful about my assumption of those Saturday events. The remaining days of the week ticked by, finally. Saturday morning rolled around, and I quickly got dressed and ready for my day out.

I take the bus and finally arrive at the stop for the zoo. After switching buses a couple times, I pay my fare and head inside. straight to the new exhibit, it was still busier than I would have liked. but I was happy to finally see them! I waited my turn to stand in front of the glass. I finally get a chance. I stand there for a few minutes, admiring the cats gently swishing their tails, lounging in the sun with an occasional flick of an ear. Their dappled, spotted body of gray and black patterned fur shown in the early morning sun.

They were on top of wooden platforms, enjoying an early morning. I suddenly became aware of a man standing next to me with jet black hair, a tall figure, a slightly stocky build, and wide shoulders. He left an imposing vintage. His eyes met mine for a second, piercing green. I take a deep breath to inhale his scent. I get the first whiff of pine. But before I could fully process the scent, a gaggle of children ran up, pushing past me. breaking my concentration, pressing their faces against the glass and giddily point, and chatting about the big cats.

I gently took a step back and made my leave. I was happy to have gotten to see the big cats. I glanced back at the exhibit, and the man was gone. I wondered around the rest of the zoo, looking at hippos, zebras, elephants, lions, and a tiger. I even saw some bats and a brown bear after hours spent walking around the zoo. I was tired, so I headed for the bus stop.

I looked at the sky; it was becoming dusk. I had to get home. I didn't enjoy being outside after dark. The bus came, and I rode it home. I kicked my shoes off when I made it and fell into bed. I was exhausted. I pulled the blankets up over me and dropped off to sleep. Throughout the week, I ate and slept and dragged my feet till Friday, when I went skating. The glide of the rink under my feet and the breeze I generated as I turned made me feel alive. I was enjoying the speed and workout as my calves burned from the two-hour skate.

I paused to take a deep sniff, and a familiar scent of pine hit my nostrils. I looked around puzzled; there were too many people for me to pick it out. I continued to skate for a little while longer, then left. I was tired; the sweat on my brow apparent from the exertion of my session that night. Gilded convinced me to talk over a messaging app with our voice chats enabled.

His voice was smooth and baritone, with a slight rasp at the end of certain syllables when he spoke. We talked late into the night and early morning, and he was enthralling to speak to. weeks later, when I was at my local comic shop playing card games. I smelled the now familiar pine. I looked around and saw a flash of green as the man turned swiftly, my gray eyes following him. Was it that man I had briefly met eyes with at the zoo?

I wasn't sure, but I tread more cautiously. I felt a bit uneasy three times where I was that sent of pine was there. I looked behind me more often and made extra sure not to be followed home. I constantly sniffed the air for that scent. One day, when I came home from work, the smell of pine was in my home. The hairs on the back of my neck prickled. I flexed my fist. I was ready for a fight, even if my laughable, just above-five-foot height slender body made me a not very formidable opponent.

My eyes narrowed, and I carefully threaded my way through my home. looking behind every corner and door, carefully smelling the air. But nothing seemed out of place, and no one was here, but my hackles were still raised, and I settled myself uneasily into sleep. Days passed and nothing happened, and the scent of pine was gone. I still felt uneasy, and it was affecting my sleep. I called into work on Sunday, informing them I wouldn't be in as I wasn't feeling well.

Gilded had messaged me, asking how I was. later that day. I told him I was tired and needed rest. It was that time of year when late summer was pulling its drowsy spell on me. The warm, long days were pulling me to sleep. but the unease of my home still clung something was wrong, but I didn't understand what. I couldn't get out of bed after a week of such poor sleep. I had informed my friends I played cards with that I wouldn't be playing this week.

I called into work for my second week, which I wouldn't be in. I've been working there for 3 or so years, and they understand that sometimes I need this time off. I usually put in extra hours and pick up the slack when I return. I understood how lucky I am. I to be working in a small business if it was a corporate job I'd be out on my ass.

The owner, an elderly lady, was always kind to me and understanding. I was eternally grateful for her kindness to me. I tossed and turned. I wasn't feeling very good. The constant stress of unease clung to me. I wasn't hungry and only picked at my food, barely taking small bites. My eyes were tired as Gilded was more insistent on asking how I was and getting me out to do things. I just told him I was just tired, and he asked me if I wanted to talk about it over voice chat.

He sent a request, and I accepted it. In a soothing tone, he said, Why don't we try something new tonight, alright? I murmured alright. What is it? Gilded said, How about we try a little role play? I wavered and said, I don't know, but Gilded spoke so sweetly in honeyed tones that it was hard to say no. Alright, what do you want me to do? I squeaked. His tone turned husky what ever I say my little ouroboros. I felt a little bit of a blush come into my cheeks. Okay,  I squeaked. Touch yourself for me. He breathed.

I paused, then slid a finger under the waistband of my PJ pants. Are you doing it? He asked, Yes, and I replied. I was gently stroking my pussy lips. I was hoping for the tingle of arousal and the accompanying moistening of my cunt, but it eluded me. He instructed me to insert a finger into my pussy and gently rub my g-spot. I did, so I felt myself getting a little wet, but still, the pull of desire eluded me. I was getting frustrated and bored. So I stopped.

Each time Gilded asked something of me, I would say I did it, and when he asked me to describe it to him, I made something up. I heard his breath speeding up. I knew he was getting off on my descriptions, so I upped the ante. I gave my tone what I hoped was a more lustful one and said, I'd like to imagine you here. I'd present myself to you on my knees. My knees splayed open, giving you a peek at my dripping cunt. The mottle blush would creep across my chest and neck, coming to rest in my cheeks as I longingly stared up at you. Your imposing figure would be standing over me, and I wouldn't be able to deny you the one who owns me. I'd be dropped down to your feet, begging for you to take me. You'll lean down and say, I don't believe you beg harder, and I would. I would beg you, please, sir, please fuck me. I need it. I would feel the deep itch with in me that only you could itch.

I enjoyed giving pleasure to Gilded as I heard his breath hitch and then a groan. I was pretty sure he just came, and I smiled to myself. Gilded took a moment to respond. He was a bit breathless. Do you want to be mine? I paused, thinking about it. A part of me did the scene I had just described was appealing to me, but I was afraid of actually committing to it.

I felt tears prickle my eyes. What if I did? I asked back. I heard him choke a strangled sound. Was it pain? He spoke in a strangled tone. Your pleasure would be paramount. I would do all I could to make you feel loved and safe. Your happiness would be mine, and your pleasure would be mine. You would be all that I covet and treasure. My heart was fluttering. Did he mean it? He certainly sounded like it, but then I remembered from what seemed a lifetime ago that I'd given my heart to someone, and he shattered it by doing something so unspeakable that it still choked me in pain to think about it.

I was so little I murmured. What my little ouroboros? Gilded asked, I would like to think all you said would be true, goodnight Gilded.  I ended the voice chat, not wanting to talk anymore. I just lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. The following days were somber. I didn't want to get out of bed anymore. The sadness of everything the lack of sleep, hunger, the unease in the apartment I just wanted it to stop. Gilded messaged me, asking how I was, and I replied fine.

Gilded then asked me, Do you remember when you told me you wanted to try going to a nightclub one day? Yes, I responded. I had told him some time ago that I wanted to see a bit of what nightlife was like. Well, he continued, why don't you go tonight? I mulled over his suggestions. I was tired, and the unease that clung to me felt suffocating.

My home no longer felt safe, and I didn't know why. Maybe a change of pace would help. but I thought of too loud music and too many people, and I felt anxiety. Too much stimulation, I don't know, Gilded. Maybe some other night I replied. but Gilded coaxed me so sweetly to go, reasoning with me that it'd be fun. I tried to fend off his assertions and say that it's dark out; I don't stay out past dusk. He just playfully said, What? Is your mommy going to get mad?

No. I responded just not safe; there was a pause in our chat log. then gilded typed, please. For me, I'm worried about you. You seem more distant, and you're constantly complaining about how tired you are. please!? A night of fun might help boost your mood, he wrote. I don't know, Gilded; it's not my scene. One word was sent back: pleading, please. I gave in. Alright, I'll go to one.

I looked up in another tab clubs in my area and found one that was somewhat close. I put on blue jeans and a white T-shirt, tucking it into my pants. I brushed my short brown hair, my gray eyes peering tiredly out at me in the mirror. I put on a pair of worn sneakers, tucking my phone into my pocket. I headed out. I took a taxi and made my way to the club. I look warily at the dark sky and then at the entrance with blaring music. Where I was out on the side walk, it could be heard I flashed my ID to the bouncer, which jerked his head towards inside.

I went in instantly; the loud music assaulted my ears. There were lots of people dancing, drinking, and making out; it was a lot to take in. I shrank into myself; this was definitely not my scene. I felt the muscles in my neck tighten with each throbbing bass note of the music. My hands shook a little. I took a deep breath, preparing to make my way over to the bar where I could sit down.

I paused. I smelled that pine scent just for a moment. I wasn't sure if I had maybe I was mistaken, then suddenly it enveloped me. and I stiffened. I felt the presence behind me, and a gentle voice said hello. I turned around, and green eyes met mine. I shifted uncomfortably, hello. I squeaked back. I'm Silas He coolly said, holding out his hand. Sarah I said, shaking it he brought my hand to his lips and gave it a soft kiss. I cocked my head a little, observing him. His scent was fully clear to me now that he was so close and had my full attention. It was pine, fresh earth, and hints of leather. His green eyes shone with playfulness, and his jet black hair was almost invisible in the dim light of the nightclub. He was well put together, clean-shaven, face nice-fitting cloths that looked tailored made I mutter you?