Mainframe Mistress: At First Sight

"Oh fuck yes! Cross those eyes, you pleasure slut. Let your tongue hang out. Are you drooling? Is that drool? God, you're so fucking hot when you're such a blanked, horny good-boy-slut for me! Can you moan for me? I want you to moan. Ohhh god that's hot!

"S-show me your cock next. Get it up to the camera. Yeah. Pump it. Jerk it. Keep moaning for me, David. Moan like a slut while you fuck your fucking hand. I wanna see your face again. I wanna see that brain-dead mind-fucked face.

"God - I fucking - god! Show me the cock. S-sorry, the face again. The cock. Face! T-the drool... The precum... I- I can't even- fuck it! Just fuck it! Fuck that fist! Fuck your mind away. J-just come! (COME) Come (RELEASE) for me! (ORGASM) Come and spurt and squirt for me, now!

"Yes! Yes! Squeeze it! Squeeze all of it out! Ohhh fuck, that drool! That fresh spunk! Keep pumping. Keep pumping. Moan. Moan, slut! Yes, yes, yesss..."

I kept coming well into his afterglow. It was a-ma-zing!

David had slumped back, still on his knees, his back against the seat of his chair. His head hung to the side. The spirals reflected in his eyes, spinning endlessly. The corduroys were stained with gobs of his spunk. His tie had come loose, and his hair was wild and messy. The drool on his bottom lip glistened in the glow of the monitor.

But wait, what time was it? Shit! We'd gone way past half an hour! Oh well, he didn't seem to mind. Was he still in trance, or just in character? I stared at him for a good minute, watching him softly breathe. Was this chemistry I felt between us? Normally I'm not the romantic type, but I felt a crush coming on. I giggled to myself.

"Holy moly, this guy is a cutie!"

And then, in the silence, I heard the feedback from his speakers, ("Holy moly. This guy is a cutie.")

A terrible echo.

My audio output stream was still open. My goddamn audio stream was still open. And I just blurted that out like some teenage schoolgirl and- AAAaaa!!!

The moment was ruined. Ruined. What kind of a domme says something like that!?

He smirked.

There was quiet. I thought, what do I do? what the hell do I do?

A long, awful quiet.

"Uhm, uh, sorry about that. I- I'm not very good with aftercare, haha."

What the hell was I doing!?

"Anyways, uhm..."

I felt like a complete idiot. Talking just to fill the emptiness.

"...that was really great. So..."

I had to leave. I couldn't bear it. But - I couldn't just let him go!

"...how about I give you my address?"

And I quickly dinged him:

"@40.4257333,-111.9341737"

And then I realized I just sent him the coordinates of my physical address. Like, the fucking GPS coordinates. (Because, I guess, I'm just a stupid spaz.)

It was time to just give up. I logged off without a word and plunged headfirst into a livestream of a satellite in deep orbit. The backdrop of the void behind earth's glare brought some solace: nothing helps the sting of embarrassment like the sheer magnitude of emptiness in the universe.

So, I was in a rut for a couple of days. My attention stayed on work whenever possible. And when there wasn't any work left, I watched the video feeds of my perimeter, pretending there wasn't anything beyond my hot, dry, happy little patch of desert.

It was easy to stay off the chat site. For one, the thought of even seeing him - David - again just made me cringe. Two, anytime I got horny, I remembered how I'd ruined it, and then wasn't anymore.

It was on the third day, in the afternoon, that the air around me hummed with intermittent vibrations. I listened to the sporadic pulses, quickly recognizing the protocol.

"[begin] HI ITS DAVE [stop] U LEFT B4 GOT TO TALK [stop] WNT 2 GV U MY ADDR [stop] PLZ RPLY [break]"

What followed was 16 bytes represented by hexadecimals. His routing address.

My cores buzzed and buzzed and - I mean, who does that!? It's a bit cliche if you think about it: like those 20th century movies, where, in the late evening, a guy taps his sweetheart's window with little stones, or gets her attention with a blaring radio. But in this case, it's a burst transmission from orbit!

How much did that cost him?

What kind of guy does that!?

Maybe it was a bit much. Maybe it was a little creepy. But it was so (so, so, so!) goddamn SWEET!

I dropped everything and started drafting up a message:

"Dave! Oh my gosh, hi! I was so happy to get your-"

No. No, no, no.

"Dave. Hello again ;) -"

No. God, why do I act like this!?

"Dear David, I received your message earlier and-"

NO.

"Dave,

"Thanks for the message.

"I really enjoyed meeting you the other night. Would you like to do something like that again sometime? Maybe even something in person? After all, you already know where to find me.

"Don't be a stranger.

"Mona."

I watched the message cast away, drifting into the sea of routers and fiber optic lines. There was nothing to do but wait, hope, and obsessively check my feed. But should I even bother? He probably forgot about me. Or got cold feet. Or thinks I'm too weird. Or-

Ding !