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The First Kiss

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Ok, so my girlfriend Karen thinks I am insane. Maybe I am. I mean what else would you call a thirty six year old woman, a working mother, a career woman even, who would agree to do what I plan on doing tomorrow? Oh my God, it is tomorrow isn't it? You would think it would stick in my brain better than the name of my first born child, the way I have been dwelling on it for these last three months. What is that kids name anyhow? I joke around when I am nervous. I can't help but be nervous. You would to, if you were gonna meet the person who has been reaching into your body and imprinting on your soul for the first time, like I am going to tomorrow. Yes, you heard me right. For the first time! Yes, I know this man. Sometimes I think I know him better than I know myself. I can see you are still confused. Alright, let me spell it out for you a little more clearly.

My name is Paige. I have been divorced for seven years now. Yes, I have dated on and off, but with the way times are nowadays, just climbing into a guys car, makes them think you've agreed on the type and color of condoms. There is NO more romance left in the world. At least that is what I used to think. That was before I was in that chatroom back in August. I can still remember the day because it was the same day my son left for his dads. He goes one month every summer, and usually I dread his going. It leaves me all alone for a whole month, me and the dog. I get through any projects I had set aside in the first week and after that the boredom sets in.

I had just waved goodbye to Jeremy. As I wandered through my now empty apartment, I saw that yet again, Jeremy had left the door to his room wide open. How am I supposed to keep the dogs hair off this bed if he practically invites Scruff in. I went to go close it and I saw that not only had he not closed the door but he had left his computer on. Another bone of contention between us, I assure you. Little did I know that Jeremy's faults would end up bringing me the most fulfilling relationship I had ever had.

Instead of wandering into his room tripping over tossed clothes and basketballs, I was able to walk directly in (that is what withholding vacation money until the room is clean will win you. I only meant to shut down his computer, but as I slid into the chair, I noticed that Jeremy had been surfing (I think that is the term) the chatrooms again. I always worry about him when he does that, but he is a smart kid, his screenname is vague and he doesn't tell anyone nuthin (his words!) I sat there for about 20 minutes just reading the comments that were scrolling past me. This was a teen room for sure. They talked about music, shopping, girlfriends, boyfriends. It wasn't very interesting but somehow I just sat there transfixed, reading and waiting for something to happen. The time just flew by. Now I knew why that kid rarely got the chores done I assigned him.

Shaking my head in wonder, I reached for the mouse. Upon closing the chatroom window, I saw under it, a listing of choices for other rooms. God, I had no idea. There seemed to be something for everyone. Scrolling through the list, I suddenly was tempted. I clicked on the 30something room and in I went. Tentatively I typed hello. Immediately I was bombarded with hi and hellos from everyone in the room. I returned a few and then sat there reading comments about husbands, wives, sex!!!, anything and everything seemed legal to chat about. I tossed a few comments of my own in now and again and was surprised to find people typed responses back to me. One person asked what a teeny bopper was doing in the room, and I had to laugh. I forgot I was using Jeremy's name still. I quickly explained that I was Jeremy's mother. I had no name of my own. Nor did I know how to make one.

Suddenly up popped a new window. It was a private message from a good samaritan in the room willing to instruct me on the making of my own name. She walked me patiently through the process, the room scrolling past me beneath. Within minutes I had a name of my own!! But what the heck was I going to do with it? That night I signed off wondering what I was thinking. Everyone knew that the internet and chatrooms were for kids. I wandered into the kitchen, got a cup of tea and headed for bed.

It was several days later I was doing laundry when I wandered back into Jeremy's room. I had only meant to put away the last of his clothes and there sat his computer. I stopped in front of it and thought to myself, what the heck. It wasn't like I had anything other than matching socks waiting for me.

As I signed on, I went into the same chatroom I had been in before, hoping to run into a name or two I recognized at least. No such luck. I said the hellos, and then settled down to chatting with whomever would respond back to me. I was getting into the swing of it, having a reasonably good time (or at least a better time than would have been had, had I gone the sock route) when one person in particular started chatting with me. He (or at least it seemed like it was a he) was so easy going. It was so simple just to sit back and chat and chat with him. The rest of the chatroom scrolled past me unaware. I found myself not even reading their conversations, so busy was I watching for what his next response or question was going to be.

Night after night, he and I continued our conversations. It wasn't long before we compared marriages and divorces, dating disasters, and parenting techniques. We talked about the news, we talked about the weather. We talked of joys and disappointment. He seemed able to tell when I was having a shitty day, and even was able to jolly me out of a bad mood, something my ex was never able to do (perhaps that is why he became my ex eventually).

I enjoyed the time I spent typing to him. I even think he enjoyed it as well. He made me feel special in a way not to many people had ever been able to in my life. I would shake my head at times, wondering what I thought I was doing. I mean you hear about people who meet via the internet, but you never think you, a reasonable person who even has a life would ever get lured into something so silly. But I did and I was and I was loving it!!

I guess I didn't ever think of where any of it would lead to. I don't know why I thought that I could sit down and spill my heart out to another person night after night, weekends too, and not being to feel something for that person. He was so supportive, so funny, so intelligent. God, if he had been my next door neighbor I would have been offering sugar and flour by now just to lure him over. But even though I felt like this man knew me better than most of my family members or good friends, it seemed odd, awkward even to think about meeting him. He was from the internet! What if people ever asked how we met? Oh my God, I found myself realizing I did want to meet him. The more I thought about it the more I wanted to.

Our conversations went on. Both of us seemed to avoid the mention of meeting. Now that I wanted it, I could tell more clearly that we were definitely not bringing it up. If the conversation turned toward a topic that might remotely end up with us discussing it, we quickly changed directions. Him as well as me. I began wondering if he was as weirded out about it as I was, or perhaps he just didn't like me enough to think about meeting. Was I just some pesky woman he put up with? I just couldn't believe that. He seemed to enjoy chatting with me, he was always available when I would say hello, he never made excuses that I could tell, in order to get away from me. I ended up doubting myself at times. Wasn't I good enough to meet?

It really bothered me that he wasn't bringing it up. I wasn't about to do it. I was the woman. We aren't the aggressors. We never ask another person out! I sounded like my mom to myself. Hell, I was a divorcee, raising a child as a single parent. I wasn't like her. Please don't tell me I was! So, night after night I told myself that I was going to bring up the subject, and night after night I sidestepped chances to do so. I was just plain afraid. That was the long and the short of it. I didn't want to risk losing this wonderful man by pushing too hard. I was afraid if I insisted upon meeting, he would move on to someone new. Someone who wasn't so pushy. I ended up dropping a few veiled hints and that was as brave as I got.

But mine weren't the only veiled hints being dropped. It was incredible how some of our conversations effected me. Yes, I know, I can be a horrible flirt sometimes, but really, who isn't? Sometimes I couldn't help myself. He practically would set me up. It was as if I were the comedienne, and he my straight man. I won't lie either, we both got into it sometimes. After all, we were both grown adults (oh my god, I hope he is a grown adult!!) and sometimes our conversations would go from friendly to downright HOT! It started out rather innocently. A comment thrown in during a bland conversation, double meanings, sexual innuendo. But then it became not so veiled anymore.

Ok, go ahead and call it cybersex if you must. But to me, it was more than words. Sometimes sitting there in Jeremy's room (if you tell him I will hunt you down and kill you) reading the messages as they appeared before me, with him describing how it felt for his tongue to be sliding across, well, ok, we already opened up this can of worms, so I may as well not try and gloss over the good parts. He had a wondrous way of describing things, that just made me shiver.

He would (with words) run his hands over my body, and as I read his descriptions, I could feel his warm hand, sliding over my breasts, could feel his fingers parting the lips of my pussy, his index finger dipping in to pull moisture up against my clit and press against it. I could feel his tongue as it licked me, how his lips would suck against my clit, sliding up and down upon it, stroking it. I had no idea that people did some of the things in real life he described to me in words. I went to bed most nights, wet and yearning for fulfillment. Damn good thing Jeremy was still at his fathers, or he would have heard my moans from down the hallway as I stroked myself to orgasm as I imagined myself in my internet lovers arms, leaning back against him, his arms around me, his fingers sliding over my clit, dipping into my now hot and aching cunt.

When Jeremy came home, I found myself frantic. How would I stay in contact with my wonderful new friend. Jeremy was online so much of the time, either researching homework (yeah right!!) or chatting with friends, I would never get a chance to sign on and find him waiting for me. I was tempted to take Jeremy's computer out of his bedroom and move it to a central location. That way I would at least get a turn when he went to bed. It might have worked except for the fact that I knew I would soon exhaust myself by staying up all night. There had to be a solution that would work.

I discussed it with Mark, (yes, by now I knew his name), and while he couldn't do more than commiserate with me over the computer dilemma, he did have a suggestion that we both got butterflies in our stomachs thinking about. I was thrilled and terrified at the same time. It took quite a bit of beating around the bush for us to finally agree that one possible way for us to continue our relationship was to break down and become more like real people. We decided to take our friendship up a notch and yes, I know, unthought of in this day and age, talk on the phone!

We agreed that he would call me to start with. I waited on pins and needles for the phone to ring. Jeremy had returned about 2 days earlier, and Mark and I thought it best to give me some down time with Jeremy. It wasn't hard to be excited about him coming home. I mean, for years he was my reason for living. I stayed up well into the night talking with him about what he did and who he met and so many other things, I barely even thought of Mark. Well, barely, until I went to bed.

In bed, lying there on my back, staring at the ceiling, I would yearn for Mark's words. For his sexual expertise. My fingers would slip down the front of my pajama bottoms, and push my underwear off to one side. While I reran Mark's words through my head, my fingers played out the drama on my body. I would slide two fingers between the folds of my pussy, and after moistening them from deep inside the folds, I would drag them up, one finger on each side of my clit. At first I would just rub across it, but once I felt it grow beneath my fingertips, felt it peaking from the hood, I would softly grip it between the two fingers and slide them up and down the tiny shaft. His mouth would take over in my mind and I would feel my hips lifting up off the bed as I pressed my clit against his tongue. I trembled in ecstasy as I came for him, and he never even knew it.

After a week of no communication, I have to tell you, I was becoming a person no one wanted to be around. I can't blame them. Even my oblivious son asked what my problem was. What was I supposed to say to him, or anyone else for that matter? I certainly couldn't tell them the truth behind my moods. I couldn't tell them that I was in withdrawal from online chatting, and that my sex life was suffering for lack of cyber sex. I found it laughable myself, so go ahead and laugh out loud, or LOL in online jargon. I knew that Mike and I were going to talk on the weekend, but while that excited me to no end, it also scared the shit out of me.

By the time the weekend rolled around, I had turned down three offers to go out with various friends. They were worried about me. I hadn't left the house or taken part in any of our usual get-togethers in weeks and weeks. My best friend Karen even called me on it. She took no for an answer easily enough, but she prodded at me trying to dig out what was going on. While my other friends worried for me, asking if there was anything they could do for me, and patted me on the back to try and shake me from my apparent decline into depression, Karen knew that there was more to my becoming the hermit I seemed than unhappiness. She could see the look of excitement in my eyes, she knew I was keeping a secret of some kind.

I eventually ended up telling her after a grueling half hour of nagging on her part. I was never any good at keeping secrets, especially good ones, from her. At first she thought I was a fool. She told me that he could be married, cheating on his wife, or a toad masquerading as a prince. I assured her he was the genuine article, that he wouldn't lie to me. What was to gain by his lies, I asked her. She laughed and said a good fuck for starters. I made light of it by saying we all needed a good fuck now and then. Inside I was defending him. I couldn't believe that someone who I had been communicating with for more than a month, and whom I had shared intimate thoughts as well as thoughts of intimate deeds could possibly be a predator.

Damn Karen for planting a seed of doubt. The rest of the day I would stop and wonder. What if I was wrong. What if this guy whom I had felt so special with, had a whole harem of desperate divorcees who dwelled on his every thought. What if he went from flower to flower, sprinkling us with promises, feeding us lines, all in an attempt to pollinate. As the time for our first telephone conversation rolled around, my stomach was in a knot. Honestly I was terrified. I didn't want to answer it when it rang. What if Karen was right? How could I possibly know this man? How could I trust that he wasn't going to hurt me? Did I dare invest emotions into someone who I met via the internet?

When he finally called, I had worked myself up into a tizzy. When I heard it ring, I sat frozen in doubt. By the third ring, my heart was pounding. By the fourth, though, I lunged across the room now scared he would hang up. Talk about torn feelings! "Hello" I blurted out, winded from my sprint. "Hello" he said, "Paige?" His voice was smooth, (too smooth? How often did he make calls like this?) "Paige, this is Mike. How are you, darlin?" (DARLING? What kind of thing is that to say to someone the first time you had ever talked to them?)

I guess I don't have to tell you how the first call went. Karen had me so worked up that the man didn't stand a chance. He was convicted without a trial. Sure, we talked for a while. Discussed inane things, how is the weather, how was your day, my son, his daughter, ex spouses even. If I hadn't been poisoned with doubt, it might have been pleasant. I do have to give it to Mark for hanging in there though. I would have hung up after the first few minutes, if I had been him.

That night as I lay in bed, I felt so lost. Like something wonderful had been wrenched away from me. I had to laugh at myself at one point. Here I was, mourning a relationship with a person I had never met! But in all truth, I felt I was mourning. There had been something there. A connection between Mark and I had been torn. I felt sick to my stomach as I tossed and turned trying to sleep.

The next morning, I busied myself with housework. Laundry, dishes, vacuuming, anything to drown out my own thoughts. I cleaned my fears away, or tried to. As I passed Jeremy's room, on my way to the linen closet with freshly laundered towels, I paused. Peaking in, I felt the pull of his computer. It seemed to even call to me. Jeremy was at his dads, for his every other weekend visit, and I had the house to myself for at least 8 more hours. Setting the towels down on his bed, I pulled out the computer chair from under his desk. Sitting there, my fingers already wrapped around the mouse, I realized, I had made a big mistake. I had blown it. I was even a little frantic as I pressed enter and sent my password across the phone lines, opening the door to where I had felt so at home for the last six weeks.

My breath caught in my throat as I realized I had mail. My fingers trembled as I clicked on the icon to open the mail. Had he written me, or was this just one more piece of junk mail that found its way into my mailbox for no apparent reason? I hurriedly scanned through the mail that had accumulated over the week, looking desperately for mail from Mark. Seeing his name, I opened it, and read what he had to say. I quickly realized that this had been sent prior to our telephone conversation. In it he said how much he had missed our conversations. He said he had come to rely on them to close his days, and without a goodnight kiss from me, he felt lost climbing into his empty bed. He also told me that there were times during the day, going about his normal routine that something would happen and he would store it in his "to tell Paige" file so he could relate it to me later. He mentioned his disappointment seconds later when he remembered that it would be the end of the week before he got to talk with me.

His excitement as he wrote of the upcoming phone call showed through his words. I sat there reading and felt myself a traitor. Here was a person who truly enjoyed me, and a more real me than anyone else had ever met. I felt I knew him so well, and I had allowed another person to cloud my judgment. I didn't know what I would, or could do to make up for my behavior on the phone but I knew I had to do something. Sitting there, I began typing an email to him. One I hoped would explain my lack of feeling on the phone, apologizing for letting my friend work me up and make me doubt him. I had to tell him how I truly felt for him, my only chance at begging forgiveness lay in truth.

As I typed, I realized the truth, that this man, who while he started out as a pretend person, with whom I might flirt and act as I would otherwise not, was now an important entity in my life. I realized I needed him. I realized I wanted his interaction. I wanted his input, I wanted him. I was frantic over the thought that I might have blown it. I was scared he might have moved on, hurt but unwilling to allow me to try and make it up to him.

I sat there, typing that email, my feelings gushing out onto the page. It wasn't until I glanced up that I noticed he had signed online and was messaging me. It started with a tentative hello, and then a question, asking me if I was busy. I answered him, my heart pounding. I told him I was in the middle of writing to him. He asked me if it was a Dear John letter. He acted like it was a joke, but I could tell by the slowness of his responses that he was concerned that it might be. I then told him I was so sorry. I was a beast for the way I had treated him on the phone. I asked him to forgive me.

I launched into my reasons for my behavior, I told him how Karen had played devils advocate, and how I had caved to her reasoning. I then told him that I knew now that I was wrong. I told him I didn't care how we had met, or that I didn't really know who or what he was on a regular basis. I told him what I didn't know didn't matter. What I did know was that I needed him. I wanted him in my life, and that I couldn't bear the thought that I might lose his presence.

I couldn't believe when he finally replied to my onslaught of words. His only reply was one word. {KISS} it said. I melted. He took me in his cyber arms and held me, he rocked me, and told me everything would be ok. He stroked my hair and touched my face. He wiped the tears from my eyes, and kissed my eyelids. I could do nothing but sit there and let the emotions I felt wash over me. He pulled me close and held me, then bent his head down and kissed my lips. I pressed against him, and kissed him back, our tongues sliding next to one anothers. My hips pressed against him, and I could tell that not only had he forgiven me, but he wanted me.

In our other cyber encounters we let the act itself be of importance, the words described what he would do to me, what I would do to him, but this time, the words were buried under an outflowing of emotions. I was breathless as he picked me up and carried me over to the bed. My arms around his neck, kissing him as he layed me down.

Sitting on the bed beside me he ran his hand from my shoulder, slowly down and around my breast, then across the flat of my stomach, over my hip and down my thigh to my knee. With his hand on my knee he bent down and kissed me. As I arched my body up toward his, my lips pressed tightly to his, his hand climbed my thigh. Our kiss became more passionate as his hand slid up and he held it tight against my pussy. I wrapped my arms around his neck and my tongue slid into his mouth. My body came up to mold against his as his fingers pressed against my cunt.

Laying back, I began unbuttoning his shirt, and once it was off, I ran my fingers over his chest. He continued massaging my pussy as I tugged at the waist band of his pants, unbuttoning them. My fingers dipped into them as I unzipped them, and pulled out his rigid cock. My hand gripped at it and then, I suddenly sat back up, this time to pull my own shirt off, unlatching my bra and removing it also. He watched me as my breasts hung free then reached out and took one into his free hand. He leaned down and his lips closed over my nipple. He sucked it deep into his open mouth, his tongue stroking the nipple to the roof of his mouth. I cradled the breast from the side as he sucked it, my free hand caressing his head. I leaned down to kiss his head as he sucked harder. My body responded quickly to his loving, and I was wet and wanting.

I pulled his face up to mine, my lips covering his mouth, as I kissed him passionately. We both removed the last remnants of clothing from one another and he pushed me back down onto the bed, his body covering mine. As he slid between my legs, I could feel his cock pressing against my thigh. I parted my legs around him, my ankles locking around his waist and as I stretched up to kiss him, I felt his cock slip easily into my soaking pussy. He teased me. I was desperate for him and he would sink his cock barely into me, then withdrawal it. Over and over he would do this, stopping when he felt me pressing upward. I finally forced myself to relax and let him control our lovemaking.

My body pressed to his, he finally plunged his cock deep into me. I arched against him and grinded his cock tightly against my cervix, my pussy gripping and clenching his cock. He pressed his chest against mine, pinning me to the bed as he drove his cock deep into me again and again. I began meeting every thrust as we both were driven higher and higher towards orgasm.

As our bodies met, so did our minds. Every word written was a perfect meld of lovemaking, him responding to my every move in exactly the right way. We were connected on more than just a physical plane. Our connection made this internet lovemaking more than just words. I felt his body on mine, I felt his cock deep inside me, and when our bodies came together, both of us peaking and cumming at the same time, I felt my body responding to him, my pussy clenching around his cock, his cock pulsing inside me as his cum sprayed my inner walls. I was breathless as we both held each other tight. I had never had such an intense experience in my life. I was thunderstruck.

I couldn't have asked for a better way of showing forgiveness than he gave me that night. I felt so close to him, I wanted his even more now, than I had before. I dared to say I loved him. To my delight and surprise, instead of pulling back, he too, declared his love for me. I went to bed that night feeling high from our session. My body was thrumming with sexual tension. I felt so strong a need for this man that my body ached for him. My fingers played across my clit as I recalled our lovemaking. As I stroked myself, my fingers dipping deeply into my wet and hot cunt, I thought of Mark, I thought of his cock, stroking the inner walls of my pussy, I thought of his mouth on mine. As I writhed on the bed, my pleasure peaking, my fingers flying across my clit, my other hand pinching and twisting my nipples, It was Mark who was on top of me. As my pussy clenched around my fingers and my clit swelled and my hips arched up off the bed as I orgasmed, it was Mark whose ear I moaned into. I lay there panting afterward, on the brink of sleep, and as I rolled onto my side, a pillow clutched against me, it was he who I said good night to.

The following week, I would steal snatches of online time while Jeremy was over at friends or playing in the neighborhood. The emails that Mark and I traded became love notes. We yearned for each other. While it seemed silly that two people who had never even met could love each other, I didn't doubt our love for a moment. I had come to rely on Mark as a friend, lover and confidante. He was the person I thought of when I woke up, and the person who came with me into my dreams as I lay down to sleep at night.

It was incredible to me that I could have become so attached to a person in so short a time, but I had. There was no doubting my feelings for him. It seemed as though there wasn't another person in the world who understood me the way he did. There were times in our chatting where we would say the same words at the same time. We would laugh about it over and over as it happened. Our connection to one another was so strong. I felt alive when we spent time together online. I couldn't imagine we could have been any closer, even if we had met and dated under conventional circumstances. And besides, meeting online was becoming the usual way of meeting people, instead of at a bar at closing time.

At the end of the week, we decided we were ready to try a phone call again. Jeremy was going over to a friends house for a sleep over, and it seemed the perfect time to talk undistracted. I felt as if I should get dressed up and do my makeup and nails like this was a real date. I was so excited. I carried the cordless from room to room so I wouldn't miss hearing it ring. We had both agreed upon a time but I didn't want to rely on my poor sense of time and run an errand right at the time he called. I had already wasted one call with him due to my friend Karen's stupid meddling and I knew better than to keep Mark waiting any longer.

When the phone rang, I jumped startled and excited. I didn't want to answer the phone on the first ring though, so I forced myself to breath deeply and relax, counting the rings, grabbing it up just before it switched over to the answering machine. "Hello?" I answered, making my voice so sultry and sexy. "Hello there, sexy" said the voice on the other end. My stomach dropped as I heard him. "What do you want?" I replied, not so sweet anymore, realizing it was my ex's voice on the other end. Dammit I thought to myself. I hope Mark doesn't try to get through while I am talking to this jerk. He proceeded to tell me Jeremy had twisted his ankle playing soccer with a couple of the neighborhood kids, and while he had iced and elevated it all night, Jeremy was still complaining it hurt to walk on. He wanted me to come pick him up and take him to the doctors for an xray. I almost told him to do it himself, not wanting to leave the house and miss Mark's call, but I stopped myself. I knew that the request was probably coming from Jeremy and not the ex. Any time Jeremy was hurt or sad, distressed in any way, he always saught me for comfort and aid. I didn't want to let him down this time. Gathering up my carkeys and purse as I told John, my ex, I was on my way. I tossed the phone into the chair by the front door as I left. I almost thought I heard the phone ringing as I pulled out of the driveway, but I shook it off as my overactive imagination.

I didn't return until after 10pm, several hours of which were spent in the Emergency room, a busy place on a Sunday evening. Jeremy merely sprained his ankle, the x-ray was negative for a fracture. He did however get a complimentary ankle wrap and a cool set of crutches, I felt were going to end up in another injury from the way he swung them around and balanced himself on them. I was frazzled to say the least as we pulled up to the house. Walking through the door, Jeremys bags balanced under one arm while I unlocked it, I glanced across the room to see the answering maching blinking. Three messages waiting. Damn, damn damn, I thought to myself. Getting Jeremy settled in for the night took another half hour, and it was late by the time I sat down and listened to the messages. It seemed my imagination wasn't working overtime. From the timestamp on his message it had to have been him calling as I rushed out of the house. There was another message a few hours later, him again. I could hear the hurt and disappointment in his voice. The third message was from John, asking what happened and why weren't we home yet. I cursed at him for not handling things himself, he had cost me a chance to talk to Mark. Who knew when I would get the opportunity again. I glanced at the clock which now showed half past eleven, and knew I couldn't try to reach Mark that late. I was tempted to sneak into Jeremy's room and leave an email for Mark explaining what had happened, but Jeremy was far too light a sleeper for me to get away with that. I went to bed frustrated and distraught about the whole thing.

The following week was hectic to say the least. Carting Jeremy to school and picking him up (he usually walked but due to the crutches that was impossible) then sitting at the kitchen table trying to finish what work I brought home with me, Jeremy comfortable in his room playing an internet game, his foot propped on pillows. I knew I wasn't going to get a chance to touch base with Mark. It seemed to me that life was pushing me away from having a relationship with him. But then again, I didn't have time to have much of a relationship with anyone. Thinking back, it had been years since I was intimate with anyone at all. This thing with Mark was about the first time I had truly let my hair down and allowed someone close. He made me feel so alive. When we chatted I became reanimated. I had hopes and dreams. I let myself indulge in fantasies. I could only hope that Mark would give me the chance to explain my absence and give me another shot.

Several days went by before I got the chance to email Mark. It was Friday night, and I had let Jeremy stay up late to watch one of those action movies, Raiders of the something or other, and I guess it was not so adventuresome as I found Jeremy asleep on the couch halfway through it. I covered him with a blanket and moved his soda far enough away that his thrashing in his sleep wouldn't knock it over. Then I went into his room and after unburying his keyboard, signed on. Mark had of course left a few emails by now. He didn't seem angry in them , but there was a tone of hurt in the later ones. I replied to the last one, sent several days prior and tried to explain where I was and what I was doing that made me miss his call. I also let him know how badly I had wanted to talk with him, how much I missed him and let him know that I wanted to continue trying to make something out of our "relationship". I cut myself short, knowing my inclination to run on about things, and signed the email, sending it on its way. Now all I could do was wait and see if he responded.

I went to bed that night, a measure of hope restored and examined my feelings for Mark. He was the first person in a long time that could make me laugh, who really listened to me, who shared his life with me. As I lay there, sinking into slumber, I realized that I really wanted him in my life, and not just as an online personality, but as a real person. A person whom I could be intimate with, someone who I could love.

That night I had a dream. In my dream he and I were meeting for the very first time. We made arrangements to meet at a nearby upscale restaurant, it had intimate dining, a bar and a dancefloor. I was beside myself getting ready for the date. Karen was over and she was helping me chose what to wear. Half my closet lay scattered around my room, as I tried on dress after dress, skirt after skirt, pants, shirts, anything that would make me look wonderful. I ended up choosing the blue silk dress that felt smooth against my skin. I guess I figured if I couldn't win him over with my personality, at least if he danced with me, he would fall in love with the feel of my dress pressed against him.

I arrived at the restaurant a few minutes early and stood in the front. They had a wonderful koi pond there and I was leaning against the rail, scattering koi food and watching the fish clammer for a bite. They were beautiful, all the striking colors and sizes. I was so intent on watching the fish that I didn't notice the approach of another person. I felt his presence as he brushed his hand across my back and as I turned startled, he spoke. His voice was the way I recognized him.

I was stunned by his strong face and body. He smiled at me and introduced himself, like we had never met before. I laughed to cover my nervousness as I reached out my hand to shake his. As he took my hand he pulled me closer to him, and wrapped his arm about my waist. As I found myself pressed against his body I was overcome with desire for this man. I gazed up into his steely grey-green eyes and melted at the look of love reflected from them. His hands were around me, running up and down my back as I put mine up around his neck. My fingers ran through his soft brown hair and I leaned in toward him. As our lips were about to meet, I woke.

I lay there staring at the ceiling, my body aching for a man who I had never met. I reached down under the covers and stroked my fingers over the lips of my pussy, teasing them through the curls of hair there. My hand barely touching. My pussy pulsed with need as I parted the lips and pressed one finger into the slick folds. I spread the moistness up against my clit and stroked it until my hips began pressing upward from the bed. My clit had swollen and was peaking out through the folds, and I pressed against it. My finger slid around it over and over.

With my other hand, I pressed two fingers deep inside me, stoking the inner walls of my cunt. Increasing the pressure on my clit, I stroke over it again and again, as I plunged my fingers inside me. My hips rose and met the thrusts of my fingers, my body now shaking with the pleasuring I was giving myself. When I finally climaxed, I was shuddering and my pussy was clenching at my fingers. I fingerfucked myself over and over as my body shook, my pussy now slick and wet, my fingers now sloshing as I slid them in me again and again. Afterward I lay there, shaking from the intensity of my climax. I fell asleep thinking of Mark, sure that things would work out.

Sunday, I got up early, and made Jeremy and myself a huge breakfast. As I cooked, I thought of how it might feel to spend a lazy day in bed with Mark. He and I cuddling as we read the paper. Croissants and coffee on the bedside table. I imagined we would snuggle up against each other, one of us constantly reaching out for the other, stroking a thigh, rubbing a back, kissing a cheek. I could see us feeding one another croissants, heavily buttered, and licking the butter from each others lips. I knew that eventually our caresses and kisses would turn toward more serious loving. Lying on our sides facing one another, both of our heads on the same pillow, would stare into the others eyes, his hand caressing my side as I pressed forward and kissed him.

Kissing one another slowly, our lips pressing forward time and time again, loving kisses, until we became so aroused that the kissing would escalate. I would come up on one arm and lean over him, my mouth on his, my tongue running along his lips, parting them and darting into his mouth. My tongue running along the gumline of his teeth, then slipping further in and sliding along the side of his tongue. As we kissed, our passion escalating, his hands would be caressing my breasts. His fingers rolling my taut nipples between his fingers. Pressing them flat under his palm and rubbing them, making my body thrill with the pleasure.

After a short while, he would push me back down against the bed, his body sliding over mine and press himself onto me. I would love the weight of his body resting against mine, his lips kissing me, his tongue slipping into my mouth, his hard cock pressing against my inner thigh. My legs would come up and encircle his waist, his cock now pressing against the slick moist folds of my cunt. My arms up would slip up around his neck as he pressed his cock into those folds, the head penetrating me. I would quiver as his cock sunk further into me. Our bodies would move together as one, every inch of his hardened cock plunging deep into me over and over again. It was here that I realized the bacon was on fire. But so was my pussy, I was so hot by now, my daydream fueling my fire, I didn't know how I was going to wait much longer to meet this man.

It wasn't so hard, Monday through Friday, with work and taking care of Jeremy, I hardly had time to wonder what Mark was up to, and if he was thinking of me. Not saying I didn't. There was many a time when I would be startled out of another hot daydream by a car horn behind me. The light had turned green how long ago? Another time, the dear old lady at the grocery store rammed her cart into mine to get me to move up my place in line. Even Jeremy noticed my distraction. He didn't complain as much as I might have over the sandwich I sent him to school with that had no meat in it. He did however raise an awful stink about me turning his favorite t-shirt red, by putting it in with the new towels for the guest bath. OK, I admit it, I was a walking hormone! Just a glance at the cucumber in the vegetable tray made me wet.

Thank god it was the weekend that Jeremy went to his dad's house. On Friday night after dropping him off at this dads house, I rushed home. I didn't get any speeding tickets, but that was only because I learned early on that crying when the cop stops you gets you a warning instead of a citation. Poor Scruff got the shortest walk of her life, and showed her appreciation by eating my slippers. Something I didn't even notice until the following morning. I threw together a plate of leftover spaghetti, a glass of wine, and breaking my own rule about eating in the bedroom went in Jeremy's room and camped out on his computer. I didn't waste all my time waiting though, I'll have you know, I got some good bargains shopping early for Christmas!

Around an hour later, and another glass of wine down, Mark signed on. I had to stop myself from messaging him the second I saw his name, but much to his credit, I seemed to be more important than any email he might have had, as he immediately said hello. God, we were both like giddy teens. Over and over we said how great it was to be chatting again finally, and how much we had missed one another. It wasn't long until we began cuddling (I prefer that word better than cybering). It almost seemed a frantic kind of lovemaking we wrote of, and I was so turned on after a half hour of it, I had shed my pants and shoes, unbuttoned my shirt and was sitting at the computer, typing away in my bra and panties. Yes, I would clean the keyboard later!

It was almost impossible to sit there reading Marks words, without stroking my fingers over my clit. At times, I would have to lick the wetness off my fingers before I could type a response. I know for a fact that he had to be typing one handed now and then. I couldn't see him, but his one word responses where a dead giveaway. It was such a turn on to know that my mere words were enough to make him hard! I played it up too though. I would tell him how bad I wanted to suck his cock. Tell him that I wanted to lick it through the fabric of his shorts, and nibble at it when I could feel it get hard. I told him that I wanted to rip his pants off, and cradle his cock and balls in both hands, and slip the tip of it into my lips. Let my tongue twirl around the head of his cock, then suck it in deeper. I told him I wanted to slide his cock over my tongue and press it against the roof of my mouth, pulling back from him and letting my lips drag over his shaft, then suck hard, and drag it back in my mouth, all the while rolling his balls around in my hands.

God, I did want too! I could feel his cock, firm and long in my mouth as I typed. I could feel it jump and jerk as I sucked at it. I could feel the ridge around the head of his cock pass over my lips as I sucked it deep into my mouth, all the while my tongue stroking the underside of it. I wanted to press his cock deep into my mouth and feel the tip enter my throat, I wanted to feel it as I swallowed around it, my tongue pressing upward. I wanted to slurp at his cock, sucking it in and out over and over until I could feel it start to thicken in my mouth as he was about to cum. I wanted to feel it jerk as the cum pulsed out into my mouth, me pressing it deep into my throat and swallowing every drop. I wanted to feel it spur cum against the back of my throat, wave after wave of it. I wanted to hold his cock in my mouth as it softened, and suck it back to hardness again. I wanted to start over again and again and again.

We chatted until well after midnight, neither of us even considering trying to call the other. For some reason, that night, the written words were stronger than anything we could ever say to one another. It felt so freeing to read and respond, sharing wants, feeling, and emotions. I can't speak for him, but somehow I felt that if I were to have to bring all those feelings to the tip of my tongue and spit them out as words, they would lose some of thier intensity. That night, words were our reality. We both signed off with hesitation, as if we were both aware of the fact that saying goodnight and turning toward the real world would lessen our experience.

During the following day, I worked around the house doing all the chores that a full time single mom does. I, of course, wandered by Jeremy's room often, even paused to sign on and see if Mark was online, left a suggestive email even, but I never ran into him. I recalled him mentioning a friends wedding or some stupid affair he had to attend, but in my lust filled haze I couldn't recall what time it started or ended, or even if he had told me those details. I figured if nothing else, he would be around that night sometime, and I left him an email saying when I would plan on being online and to check for me if he wandered on. I bounced through the house, on a post sex high, even though I had not encounted a male of my species in months. I had to admit that the online scene was a pretty fulfilling experience. All the emotions, all the feelings, but noone you had to share your bathroom with. Who could ask for more??

Who indeed? Well, me for one. I wanted more, I wanted a real person with a real name and a real voice. A person with real arms that could hold the REAL me. I was finally ready for a real meeting. Now how to bring it up? How could I say I wanted more without scaring him away. We had never really talked about meeting one another. The most we had committed to thus far was a phonecall, that still hadn't happened (I don't count the call that Karen had bungled for us). The thought of meeting with him thrilled and scared me to death. It is so easy to get along with someone online. So easy for them to portray the nice side of thier personality and never ever give any indications of the dark skeletons in thier closets. Was I ready for someone else I cared for, and yes, I admit I cared for Mark, was I ready for them to see my dirty laundry?

Was he ready to see me? That night, I don't know who even suggested it. I recall it being me, but then my heart was beating so fast I might have been hallucinating, and he might have been the one to broach the subject. All I really remember was that both of us were thrilled with the prospect of meeting finally. We made the plans and decided it would be best to wait until a weekend when Jeremy was away at his dads to go through with it. We picked a restaurant near my place, he said it was the mans job to do the traveling. I was floating on air by the end of our chat. The only downside was that Mark wasn't going to be in town all next week and the weekend so I wouldn't get much more of a chance to chat with him before the big day. I couldn't believe as we signed off, that we were going to meet. I kept telling myself over and over again it was true. It was true. It was true.

Karen went shopping with me the next weekend to find the perfect outfit to wear. I wanted to look chic but she pushed for feminine. She said I was too pretty to pull chic off. I let her win that battle, since I had already had the fight with her about even going through with the date in the first place. We ended up picking out a powder blue dress that was satiny smooth with soft lacey accents. It did look great on me. I had to thank Karen for being the fashion expert. I got it home and hung it up on my closet door where I could see it every time I walked into the room. It was a tangible reminder that I was going to be with Mark soon. I couldn't hardly wait.

OK, so now you are all caught up with me. Tomorrow is the big night. I have rehearsed the meeting in my head a million and one times but I still have butterflies in my stomach. I mean how can a person be scared and excited at the same time? So many what ifs! There was the all powerful, what if we just didn't have the same chemistry in person that we did online? Or if that one wasn't enough, what if I get there and he isn't there? I was so busy freaking myself out I couldn't sleep well that night. So waking up, another what if cropped up. What if these black circles under my eyes don't go away by tonight?

So there I was, driving to the restaurant. Mark said to meet him in the bar at 7. I left the house by 6:30, thinking that if there was traffic I would still get there in time, and if not, I could always sit in my car and bite all my fingernails off. Karen had come over and helped me get ready. I have to hand it to that girl. I know she doesn't like the idea of me doing this, but once she got it through her thick head I was going to do it, she has been nothing but helpful. I would have been a mess without her there helping and cracking jokes to keep my mind off of everything. I need to remember to thank her.

At 6:50, I pulled into the parking lot. I wasn't sure I could get out of the car with my knees knocking so fiercely. Good thing Karen said to wear my flats, because if I had worn those pumps, I probably would have gotten my first look at Mark through the back window of the ambulance that was taking me to the hospital with a compound fracture to my ankle. Pulling down the sunvisor, I checked to make sure my makeup was still fresh enough, then decided what the hell, either he likes me like this or he doesn't. Who cares about looks anyway, when we have already shared our souls with one another!

So I managed to get into the restaurant without any embarrassing mishaps, and wondered if I could get a peak in the bar without him knowing I have arrived yet. I guess he had some sort of radar, because as I entered the bar he was already walking toward me. I had to force myself to stay calm. Looking at Mark walking toward me was like being in a dream. Everything and everyone else in the restarunt sort of vanished and we were the only two people there. It was so incredible to be in the same room with him. He was as handsome as his picture had seemed to indicate and I was instantly familiar with him. He walked up to me and shook my hand like a gentleman, and said that they had a table waiting for us if we wanted to go there directly. I don't remember answering him but I suppose I did.

As we were walking toward the dining area I was hyper aware of his hand on my back. The heat of his body seemed to penetrate through the dress and spread through me. I wanted to turn toward him and walk into his arms. I wanted to press myself against him and feel his realness against my skin. I kept forcing myself to remember that this time, this wasn't merely my imagination, this was real! As we were seated at the table, I had to stop myself from scooting my chair over closer to him. My hand seemed drawn to his. I kept reaching for him, touching his hand, running my fingertips over his sleeve. I couldn't keep my hands off him.

Just touching this mans skin was arousing me. To feel my hand slide up his forearm, to slide my foot up his pant leg under the table, made me quiver with longing. My pussy ached with the need to feel his cock filling it. Staring across the table, and seeing him sitting there, a real man, a physical being, was something I had longed for, for all these weeks.

Halfway through the dinner, I realized what a mistake we had made by deciding to meet in a public place. I wanted to get up and come around the table, pull his cock out of his pants and sit astride him. I wanted to slip my pussy down over his cock and grind it deep into me. I wanted to wrap my legs around the chair he sat on, and pull myself against him over and over. It was all I could do not to squirm in my chair as I pretended to eat. I wanted nothing more to do with food. My body hungered with a more basic need. As I looked up from my plate, I saw him looking at me with the same need, written upon his face.

Finally, when dinner was done, and we were walking out of the restaurant, he pulled me against his side, his arm around me, guiding me through the maze of tables and chairs. With my body pressed against his, my arm around his waist, I felt like this was the most natural and right place for me. Once we made it out into the parking lot, he swung me around in front of him, his hands on my shoulders. Now facing each other, no table between us, I felt shy.

Then he leaned his head down and stepped forward, kissing me. As he placed his lips upon mine, all my shyness evaporated. It was a small kiss at first, as if we were testing the fit of his lips on mine. But then he pulled me close, circling my body with his strong arms and pressing me close. My body molded itself to him, my lips pressed hard to his, my arms sliding up and cradling his head in my hands. My fingers ran through his hair, and I pulled his head down closer. My lips opened to his tongue, and as it slipped in over my teeth, my tongue met it, the two sliding against one another. I never wanted the kiss to stop. I wished I could climb into his body through his mouth. I felt all the passions that we had created and acted out online surge through my body and pour from me onto his lips. I could never have invisioned the feeling of belonging and need that swept through me. We sank into the seas of passion, each clinging to the other as we drowned in the intensity of this first kiss. As we pulled from one another, suddenly aware of our surroundings, I wanted to throw myself back against him, and once more feel his arms around me. I felt as if I had been yanked from a dream, taken away from a place where I was 'right'. We both looked at one another, stunned by the force of what seemed to be just the beginnings of so much more to come. I had to shake my head with both wonderment and disbelief. If that was "just" the first kiss, then I was not sure I could withstand what was surely to come. But there wasn't a person on earth that could stop me from finding out!

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