A Sparrow Alights

There was a pause on her end this time.

Her: I think that's sweet. I've only had sex with four, and just the husband for the last twenty years.

Me: We're practically virgins.

Her: And no STDs here.

Me: Pure as the driven snow here.

Her: But kinky as hell. And needing a man to conquer me.

A terrible idea was forming in my mind. Was she thinking what I was thinking?

****

I pulled her down partly over the foot of the bed so she was standing on the floor, but bent over the bed. Kicking her legs apart, I reached under the bed to some loops that I had pre-placed on the feet of the bed. I bound her ankles apart, very widely. Moving up, I found similar loops at the head of the bed and stretched them down. Putting them around her wrists, I now had her tightly bound body bent at a 90 degree angle over the foot of the bed. I admired my handiwork as she looked up at her wrists.

"You came prepared," she said.

"I'm using what I was taught in boy scouts," I said, checking the knots I had tied. "Perhaps not how they intended, though."

She had a little bit of slack, and that was unacceptable. I adjusted the loops, pulling hard and stretching her out until she was completely taut and immobilized. I knew she loved that feeling, and I loved having her trapped. She groaned as her limbs were pulled as tightly as possible, her thighs pressed into the top of the mattress, her legs spread wide.

"Now what do you think I'm going to do next?" I casually set the lube on the bed directly in front of her.

She looked up at me with those gorgeous Italian eyes. "And you're not even going to let a girl have a free hand to finger herself? You're a cruel master."

"Be a good, tight girl and we'll see."

Moving behind her, I grabbed the lube and positioned myself, curling behind her in a standing spoon. She was so petite that I felt like a giant as I enveloped her in my body. I leaned in close to her ear, and whispered, "I'm going to sodomize you for my pleasure now."

As I said those words, my finger touched the ring of her anus. She shuddered, either with delight or dread.

I dribbled the lube down from the small of her back, capturing it and rubbing it in the proper places, both on me and in her. Then I pressed close, wrapping my arms around her and holding her tight.

My tip found its target quickly. With a little maneuvering, I was ready to enter. "Here we go, my little sub," I said. I began a slow steady push.

She gasped and bucked forward, but trapped by the bed beneath her and me above her, she had no choice but to accept her impaling. With a burst of pleasure, my head went in, and we both groaned. Another push, another inch. "You're so tight back there," I murmured, running my tongue up the back of her ear.

"Keep going," she gasped. "All the way."

Inch after inch, I took this petite woman, this nameless confessor of my sexual sins. And what a sinner I was.

I was a good man. I would never hurt someone, never force myself on someone. But there's something in the DNA of a man that wants to take a woman, that wants to chase her down and lie on top of her and enter her body to make it his. I had never thought it would happen, but here she was, someone whose DNA wanted her to be chased, be taken, be violated in unnatural ways for the pleasure of her conqueror. Our fantasies had become one with each other, not just physically but in spirit. I pressed into her neck, locking her vulnerability in my teeth. My hands shifted and I gripped her breasts, squeezing hard, clamping into my prey so she could not escape until I had completely consumed her.

I planted myself balls deep into her, my entire shaft buried in her most private of areas. I withdrew, all but the head of my penis pulling out, then slowly pushed back in to repeat my pleasure. I reveled in her tightness, the high-pitched noises she made as she was taken, and most of all the sheer fact that I was engaging in this act, with this woman, in this place. I began building a slow rhythm, designed to maximize my pleasure.

For several minutes we continued our slow dance of sexual deviance, me pushing into her ever so slowly, violating her deeply and intentionally, her gasping and moaning and flexing her hands and fingers in need.

"You're taking your ass fucking like a good little sub," I whispered in her ear, biting down on the lobe. Her skin was warm and soft as I melded myself into her, touching her in as many ways as possible.

"I need to cum again," she pleaded. "I love the feel of you inside me, around me."

"You're earning it," I said. Reaching up, I released the loop from her right hand. It immediately moved down, and she shifted under me as she began fingering her clit.

I took a long time to cum, and that was intentional. I slowed down when I was close, so I could enjoy her longer. At times I even stopped moving altogether, just planting myself as deeply as possible within her, feeling her micromovements as she masturbated beneath me. She took my attentions like a heroine, working herself the entire time, silently allowing me to maul her breasts with my hands, her neck with my tongue and teeth, her back with my chest. Eventually I felt myself beginning to well up into an eruption.

"I'm getting close," I murmured into her ear.

"Give it to me."

I slowly accelerated my pattern until the smooth push and pull became thrusts. Faster and faster I moved, bouncing her beneath me. With three of her four limbs bound and stretched, she could only absorb my aggression, yet I could vaguely feel through her body movements that she was accelerating her own frigging.

"How close are you?" I asked.

"Getting close."

"I can't hold out."

"Do it."

With one, two, three final thrusts, I came inside this woman, this woman who I had only laid eyes upon hours earlier. My mind exploded into ecstasy, then orgasm, then stars and the cosmos. My brain short-circuited from the nerve sensations and I briefly went to another world.

When it was over, I was still curled around her, and she was still frigging herself. Pulling her tight, gripping her waist and her chest, I squeezed her in a bear hug, my pulsating penis still inside her. I buried my face into her hair, kissing her neck, stroking her breasts, protecting and shielding her from the world as she finished her pleasures. When her back arched again for the third time that night, I was still riding her, and I reveled in the sensation of her body movements and spasms as if I were having the orgasm myself.

****

It had been a month since we first crossed the line. We came back for our weekly meeting, and I was scared. I was wary of what I wanted, why I kept coming back.

Her: Hello, Mr. sparrow hunter!

Me: Hello, my little sparrow. Always nice to make your acquaintance.

We exchanged some pleasantries for a while, the normal everyday stuff about our week. As we warmed up for our now-normal sexual discussion, I asked the key question.

Me: Would you ever want to make your fantasies real?

Her: I thought you'd never ask. Take me!

Me: Haha.

Her: Haha.

Her: But I'm serious. I'd let you do it. No one else.

Me: Me? Why me? I'm just words on a keyboard.

Her: I trust you. You wouldn't hurt me. And you know what I want and how to give it to me.

Me: It's not just about trust, though. There are all sorts of other factors.

Her: Like what?

Me: Well, first off there's health and diseases. But I guess we've already covered that.

Her: We've checked it off the box. We're both practically monks.

Me: Next thing: I'm married. I want to stay married. I want to keep my life intact.

Her: I wouldn't fall in love with you.

Me: I need that promise. Because I'm incredibly desirable. Haha.

Her: I think I could resist you. No falling in love, no fatal attraction stuff. Just one night. And you couldn't fall in love with me, either. But you could have a crush on me if you want.

Me: That ship has already sailed. But it's a harmless crush and I would never tell you about it.

Her: I'm clueless.

Me: On that topic, there's chemistry. We're kindred spirits online, we know that. Our kinks are perfect matches. But real life is different. I'm not nearly as handsome as the font I type in. What if we met and there was no chemistry? It's possible, you know.

Her: I think there would be chemistry. We have the same interests.

Me: But what if there's not? Maybe you'd think my voice is repugnant, or my walk is weird.

Her: Your walk is weird?

Me: I don't think so. But maybe you would think so.

Her: We'd meet at a safe place first. Meet for coffee.

Me: Meet for coffee first. I like that.

I pondered such a meeting. It would really be awkward if we met and just didn't click with each other. I could tell that she was a nice person, and from the one picture I had, she seemed attractive. But I've sat at many a business luncheon across from nice and attractive women who I could not imagine tying to a bedpost.

And what of Sparrow? I knew my limitations, and I worried about her being disappointed if we ever met. For some reason I'm more charming in writing than in person, and I've always known this to be true. I'm a writer by nature, and that's probably related to the fact that I'm not a smooth talking charismatic guy. If we met, Sparrow would also see the unvarnished truth that I'm ten years older and her and that I have never been asked to pose for a firefighter calendar. Truthfully, I worried more about her reaction to a meeting than about mine. My whole fantasy involved being with a woman who was interested in me, and if she only followed through because she felt obligated, that was worse than not meeting at all.

My mind raced.

Me: We should assign a less encompassing goal to the first meeting.

Her: What do you mean?

Me: You mentioned that you fantasize about people unexpectedly seeing you naked. I remember that.

Her: Yes. Mmm, nice.

Me: So we meet, and the goal is to have you expose yourself to me. In a way that no one else can see. You do that, I get to leer at you, you leave, and we've accomplished one of our fantasies in a harmless way.

Her: Okay. But what if we meet and want more? I can see that happening.

Me: We can make the call then. If you decide not to go further than that, for any reason at all, then you just nod and leave. That'll let me decide the reason in my own mind, so I won't feel rejected. Maybe you just decided you weren't ready. Maybe I have really bad body odor. If I don't know the reason, then I can tell myself a story to make myself feel better. And I also walk away getting to see an attractive woman flash herself to me, which would make me a happy guy.

Her: So I flash you, and then what?

Me: I'd have a hotel room. If I want to go further, I would put the key down where you can pick it up. If you pick it up, then we're both all in. If I don't put the key down, then it means that I'm backing out for some reason, and you'll never know the reason.

Her: So if either of us backs out, for any reason, we still did the public flashing fantasy and it's a win-win.

Me: Precisely.

Her: I like it. Question for you.

Me: Yes?

Her: Do we get to learn each other's names at that point?

Me: Nope. We're just two strangers in the night, meeting to help each other live out one night of fantasy.

Her: Except we're not really strangers at this point. We know each other's deepest secrets.

Me: That's why we won't know each other's names.

Her: So would we actually do this?

This whole process of imagining a meeting was a fun fantasy in and of itself, and one that I was living in real life. That was actually a real woman on the other side of the keyboard! I also liked the thought that we were playing out a fantasy about playing out a fantasy. It was harmless. I knew the odds of us actually meeting were exceedingly low, so I kept the game going.

Me: We live 500 miles apart. We'll meet the next time we're in the same city.

Her: I like that plan.

Me: There's precedent for this, you know.

Her: How so?

Me: Strangers on a train.

Her: What about strangers on a train?

Me: It's a movie. Two people who don't know each other are talking on a train. They both need something done that they can't do themselves. So they make a deal with each other that they'll each do the thing for the other one, not knowing each other's names.

Her: What did they do?

Me: I don't remember exactly, but I think it was committing murders.

Her: Eww.

Me: Our situation is obviously different in that regard.

Her: I have a different explanation.

Me: Tell me.

Her: I feel like this is one of those random acts of kindness that you hear about.

Me: How so?

Her: We both have things that we've always wanted, and could never have. We're in a position where we can give them to each other. We're giving each other a gift.

Me: I like that. I really like that.

Her: I have one favor to ask.

Me: What's that?

Her: Can we still be friends afterward?

****

Sparrow had a surprise for me.

"Put on your robe," she said, and donned her own.

I did as she said, following her orders in a reversal to her submissive role.

"I'm the hotel masseuse," she said. "Would you like a massage?"

My eyebrows rose. "I believe I would."

"Okay!" She went to the door of our room, stepped outside, and let it close.

Knock, knock.

I went to the peephole and peeked outside at her. "Who is it?"

She laughed at my willingness to play along. "It's the room service massage you ordered, Mr. ... Um, Hunter."

I opened the door and let her in. She professionally shook my hand. "My name is Ms. Sparrow and I'll be taking care of you today. You ordered the special massage?"

I knew my improv rules, so I followed her lead. "Perfect. I can really use a little relaxation. I've had a long and exhausting night." I went back into the room as she followed me. "Do you need to set up a massage table?"

"No. For the type of massage I offer, we can use the bed if you don't mind."

I looked her up and down. "I don't mind at all. How do we start?"

"Well, I'll need you to remove all of your clothes first." She gave me a very professional look and intonation.

"I can do that."

In a flash, I was naked. I didn't hide myself from her, walking brazenly nude in front of her as I made my way to the bed, my cock swinging with my gait.

"If you don't mind, I'll remove all of my clothing as well," she said. "It keeps the massage oil from staining them."

"We can't have that," I agreed.

In a flash she was naked too, her breasts bouncing ever so slightly as she walked toward me, those big brown nipples catching my eye.

"Face down, please," she said in a businesslike manner. Smiling, I complied, though my hardening cock made it a little uncomfortable. I suspected this was going to be good.

I lay down in the middle of the bed and she climbed up between my legs. "Massage is good for the circulation, sir. It improves blood flow." I could hear the sounds as she rubbed some massage oil onto her hands, and then I suddenly had nice warm hands and fingers massaging my feet, then my calves.

"Mmm, very nice," I mumbled, my voice buried in the sheets.

She moved up to my knees, my hamstrings, pushing herself further between my legs. She gave a surprisingly good massage for an amateur, and I felt myself relaxing.

Then her small hands were on my butt, and the massage became a bit more sensual, softer with more caresses. I gasped as a finger touched my perineum, softly stroking. "Some areas require less pressure than others," she said. She spent quite a bit of time on those two areas, and I found myself involuntarily beginning to hump the sheets.

But she moved on. Sitting on my rear end now, she got back to business, massaging my back, then bending my arms up and back to give them a good rub. I could feel the slight rasp of her pubic hair against my skin as she leaned forward.

"It's best to massage with soft skin," she said softly. "Sometimes it's your hands and sometimes it's ... other parts." With that, she spread some massage oil on my back and shifted her body weight.

Mmmm, I could feel her breasts, oily, slick, and soft, stroking up and down my back as she lay prone upon me. Up my body and down, it felt divine, and her breath tickled my neck on each upstroke, with occasionally a nibbled kiss. She gave me perhaps a dozen of these strokes before moving on.

Now she was onto my scalp, my ears. I love having my ears stroked - perhaps it's a minor fetish - and she knew just how to do it. She lightly stroked my scalp, then said in a soft voice, "Now imagine that it's raining pleasure on you." Her fingers dropped a featherlight touch on me from head to toe as I shivered in delight.

"Time to turn over, Mr. Hunter."

With relish, I turned over for the second half of my massage. She looked down at my full-mast penis. "We're not completely relaxed yet, are we?"

"No, ma'am."

"Don't worry. I guarantee complete relaxation."

She moved back down to my feet and began the same process again, starting with my toes and moving all the way up to my quadriceps, providing a professional quality light massage. My cock was ready for it's turn, but she teased it. Dropping just a touch of massage oil on it, she lightly ran a hand up and down its length. "Hmm," she said. "This is a problem area. I'll come back to it."

I groaned my disapproval, but she only laughed.

Now she moved up to my head and beyond, facing down toward me from above. She repeated the same feather light strokes on my face that she had used earlier - my forehead, eyebrows, jawline - and I was in heaven.

Running her hands along my arms, she leaned in low. Starting at my shoulders, she would stretch for a downstroke, bringing her breasts directly onto my face at the far end of the stretch. On each stroke, I would grin as I saw them lowering toward me, and I would close my eyes to experience their softness on my face.

"Oh, my apologies," Sparrow said in a sultry voice. "My curves sometimes get in the way of a good massage."

I opened my eyes again as she raised up. "I'm a happy customer," I said, "despite this minor incident."

She lowered them onto my face again as we both giggled.

She scooted forward and began rubbing my chest, the massage oil warm and viscous in her hands. She moved across my collarbones, my sternum, and my pecs, then came to rest with her palms on my nipples. She moved them in tiny circles as I enjoyed the sensations. She did this for some period of time that seemed like forever, but was still not long enough.

Now she moved further down, to my stomach. My stomach is for some reason rather sensitive erotically, and she seemed to sense this, giving it lots of attention. But just as important, she had to reposition herself again. Moving forward, she straddled my chest with her knees, positioning her junction just above my face.

As she caressed my stomach, occasionally meandering down to the side of my hips, I got a splendid view of her pussy. I was again fascinated by the darkness of it, the tone-rich skin of her outer lips, the coal dark inner lips, and I wanted to taste it. I watched it for a couple of moments, moving slightly as she massaged, and then I had to go for it.

Reaching up, I grabbed her hips and pulled her down onto my face. She didn't resist as I sought her clitoris with my tongue, licking, sucking, wrapping my tongue and lips around her pleasure nub. For a few moments, I played unabated, until she pulled herself off.

"Sir, we do not allow such indiscretions in this establishment. I'm going to have to restrain you." Giggling, she skittered off of me and reached for the leather cuffs, the ones that I had used on her earlier.

My eyes wide, I allowed her to put my wrists in the cuffs, restraining one to each corner of the headboard. Then she moved down to my ankles and did the same.