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The Heady and Horny Days of America Online (AOL)

I was widowed and she was divorced. Grief had left me raw, desire had left her restless. AOL was the strange and wonderful place where our lives collided. We met in an AOL chat room in late 1998 through dial up with a 28.8k modem connection. I realize these words will be foreign to younger generations but it was how we accessed a slice of the Internet back then. Every connection to AOL was an adventure. Once logged in, I would quickly check my email and then jump right to the local chatrooms, which was always a frenzy of activity.

A/S/L or, in English, ‘Age, Sex, Location’ was the opening salvo of just about everyone that entered the room. This opening line was followed by throwing out your vitals for the rest of the room in the hopes of finding someone of similar age and location. For me, it was 31/M/GR (Grand Rapids). Once your introduction was out of the way, the chat in the room usually centered on the group parties coming up at local hotels, drink specials around town and, perhaps most importantly, sex. It was a late night. We connected in the frenetic and chaotic chat room and took things private to get to know each other better. My quick wit and attempts at humor seemed to have been in my favor on this night. This typically involved sending pictures, talking about favorite positions, fantasies and the like. I was all perfunctory but served the purpose of figuring out if you wanted to meet IRL (in real life).

Shay lived in a nearby town about twenty five minutes north of Grand Rapids. We talked for a few nights in chat and one night, we decided to meet at a local bar for some drinks. Scanning the room as I walked in, I saw her sitting at a table and nursing a beer. I did the awkward approach of not knowing someone but also trying to be discreet….. “Hi, are you Shay?” She nodded, gave a shy, glancing smile and gestured for me to sit down.

She recognized me from my photo but we were both very nervous. She was beautiful, womanly in a way that made my pulse quicken. Full, swaying breasts that moved in tune with her body whenever she shifted in her chair. Her long black hair carried the clean, sweet scent of shampoo and conditioner. It was still damp and it was intoxicating to breathe in as she drew in closer to talk.

She spoke in hushed tones, almost conspiratorial, as we were sharing secrets that the rest of the world could not know. We never said the word ‘sex’ at the bar, but every brush of her hand across her beer bottle, every glance that lingered for a second too long, was charged with it. By the second beer, I could feel it humming between us. Shay demurely asked if might want to go back to her place to watch some TV. I was hoping it was more than TV but if TV was all that she meant, then I was going to be a perfect gentleman. It was more than TV.

Back at her place, with the glow of VH1’s Pop Up Video flickering on the tv in the background, the tension finally broke. I leaned in, hesitant for a split second, then kissed her. Soft at first, testing, tasting the bitterness of beer and the warmth of her breath. Conversation gave way to sound of our breathing, heavier and more hungrier with every touch.

Clothes came off in a hurried blur, each layer pulled away revealing more skin, more want. When we were finally naked, we paused, taking each other in, grinning like we’d both just won the lottery. Shay stood an inch taller, her wavy black hair falling wild over flushed skin. Her breasts swayed as she moved towards me, nipples stiff, her serene smile turning wicked when her eyes dropped to my cock. She was gloriously womanly with full hips, full bush, lips already glistening and her arousal impossible to hide.

Our hands roamed with growing urgency, stroking, clothing, learning each other’s bodies by touch alone. I trailed kisses down her belly until her musky scent filled me, until her pussy opened for me like it had been waiting impatiently all night. She shifted into a tangle of angles and settled her pussy squarely on my mouth while leaning forward to stroke my dick with my own puddles of precum. One hand worked my shaft while the other massaged my balls, all while she ground her hips deeper into my hungry tongue. The intensity swallowed us whole. She came in waves against my mouth, her moans muffled by the wet, glorious heat of her pussy. Her hand never stopped, relentless until I erupted, shooting across her tits in thick, hot pulses. She smeared my cum over her skin with slow, sinful pleasure, smiling through her orgasmic release. Spent and smiling, we collapsed on the floor in the glow of VH1, our breath in sync as we drifted towards sleep. In that dream half-state, our fingers lingered, stroking softly as if neither of us wanted to admit the night was ending. But time always wins. Clothes back on, a kiss too short, a hug too long and we parted. No grand finale, yet no doubt about what we’d done. The road home blurred under my headlights. Her face was everywhere, in the dashboard glow, smiling back at me in the rear view mirror, in every thought I tried to push away. Prudence whispered that we should leave it at that. Desire laughed at the idea. At home, I hovered over the AOL icon on my computer, tempted to dial back in, to see if she was still out there in the neon dark. Instead, I shut it down and let sleep take me, not knowing that this was just the beginning.

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