Summer Warmth

David was new to the social networks that had sprung up on the internet in the past couple of years. Just for kids, he'd thought, until one came along that seemed a little more sophisticated, a little more adult.

So he signed up, not knowing what to expect. It became compulsive - loading photographs that might appeal to others aesthetically, feeding in his address book to see if any of his friends from around the world had also given in.

At first it was slow - the odd contact from a long-lost work colleague, even an old girlfriend, now settled down, and - like him - married with a child.

Over the next few weeks his network grew. He began to use it to rebuild old friendships severed by time and distance, adding horoscopes, biorhythms and other bolt-ons to make it more fun.

Then, he received a request for friendship from someone he didn't know. He checked it out - a strikingly beautiful woman with an interesting profile, not simple, not predictable.

That was how it began. They instant messaged each other, talking freely about their personal problems as if they had been friends for years. The words flowed easily - no no-go areas looming between them. An easy social relationship grew.

He learned she lived with a lover, but there was someone else, on another continent, unreachable. The separation and the strains of living with someone who knew she wanted to be with someone else were taking its toll.

He shared with her his own story - of a beautiful woman met under dangerous circumstances. Two journalists with their lives at risk in a distant and strange land, it was not long before love - and then sex - became inevitable.

David and Sophie had two wonderful years of adventures - travel to exciting places, European cities, staking their claim to be the first man and woman to make love on Eurostar as it sped through the Channel Tunnel. They holidayed on the Costa de la Luz near the Straits of Gibraltar, staying in a villa right on the Atlantic Ocean. They enjoyed fantastic sex, they delighted in each other's company, they smoked a lot of grass.

She was half Nigerian and spoke often of wanting his child - she wanted it to be her warm brown colour with his blue eyes. They used no contraception and there were several false alarms.

She travelled independently with her job - to Morocco, to Switzerland. Sometimes the relationship got a little screwed up - once he abandoned everything to fly to Geneva to try to sort out a misunderstanding that threatened to wreck things between them. She had a history of many lovers, simultaneously and sequentially.

For him she gave up that aspect of her wild side - but not others. His love for her was a real addiction.

Once or twice they broke up - he to try to rebuild his relationship with his wife and to be there for his teenaged son. But, like a drug, the attraction was too strong and it was usually not long before they were back together. Until the last time. He had to decide and in the end it seemed to him that he had no choice.

He and Sophie met in a café near Charing Cross where they had a cold, matter-of-fact discussion and they both walked away, neither turning. He knew that Sophie cut off ex-lovers - no "lets be friends" platitude would work for her.

So he threw himself into rebuilding his marriage. Into moulding his son into an adult. Into his work.

For five years that was his world - work - family - work in a continuous cycle. But not a single day passed when he did not think about Sophie and how it might have been if the decision had been the other way. It tore his soul apart.

Then a personal crisis at work broke his confidence. Weeks of confusion in his mind, weeks of anxiety followed.

Personal betrayal is difficult to come to terms with, but he did. He had to leave - he felt he had no option, so deep were the disagreements. Another job came along, one that used his contacts, knowledge and talent, and involved a completely different working environment where his efforts were truly appreciated.

Then along came Esmee's request for friendship. Her gentle respect for animals and for her environment, her detachment from the usual preoccupations, was a breath of fresh air for him, a welcome nudge from his past.

One night he was working late on a critical project for his new company. His attention wandered and he opened up the network. Amazingly Esmee was there. "I'm 5' 11'', blue eyes, brown hair with not too much grey yet," she told him.

He wore dark glasses in his on-line photograph. "I've blue eyes," he replied to her question. "Love blue eyes - mine are green and orange," she replied.

"Now I love green eyes. I'd like to know how I can give you pleasure at this distance," he ventured, knowing this was the turning point in the conversation. Too casual and it would peter out almost immediately - but too forward and the link would probably be broken.

Even in the sterility of on-line communication he could hear the laughter in her reply: "You'll have to try really hard."

He complimented her on her beauty, her hair, eyes, lips and mouth. Then: "I would love to kiss you gently on the lips, trace the nape of your neck with my fingers, draw you breath into my lungs."

Esmee: "That sounds delightful - I can feel your touch."

He typed urgently once more: "The tip of my tongue gently probes first one of your ears and then the other." "Yes it makes me tingle..."

"The tip of my tongue runs lightly over your lips, gently prising them apart before kissing you deeply, our tongues just touching." "And I would breathe deeply, my fingers in your hair," Esmee replied.

"I kiss your eyes, and nuzzle your neck, just below your jaw" and "I begin kissing you back hungrily."

Magically they were linked by the technology in a fantasy world that became very real. David painted a verbal picture of the two of them alone on a heath in warm sunshine, insects buzzing. They could see for miles - and there was no-one around. They stumbled across a secluded dell, lined with soft grass.

Esmee took the initiative: "We lie down, our toes playing, fingers running over warm skin." David continued: "We take off our clothes so that the sun can warm our skin - I trace the line of your backbone with my fingers."

"It sends me writhing and I part my legs."

In their minds their naked bodies intertwine, her hand on his shoulder, his lightly around her waist. David: "I cradle your breasts in my hands, gently teasing the nipples until they stand out firmly. I kiss your nipples and take one into my mouth."

"My breasts graze your chest, my back arched, my fingers sliding down your chest, down your tummy."

"I move slowly down your body until my lips are close to your vulva. Gently my tongue slips into your moist and welcoming sex. I suck deeply to draw your clitoris from the moist safe haven of your cunt."

"It is wet and throbbing, drawing your tongue inside. I push up towards you, gasping, my pussy swelling."

With the juices running down his chin, David continued: "You draw my lips to yours. You drink deeply of your juices. Turning me on to my back, you seize my penis and plunge it deeply into your cunt."

Esmee, bucking: "It feels so big and hard, pushing hard, in and out."

She forced David's arms back on to the grass, and traces the outlines of her erect nipples with her fingers your hands, massaging her breasts and gulping for air. She gripped his prick with her finely-honed pelvic muscles felling its contours. His weight was on her, his cock pushing deeper, her legs around his waist as he pounded her.

He was aware of his prick pressing hard against the neck of Esmee's womb and moved slightly so that its bulging purple head pressed firmly against her g-spot, conscious of her drifting away to another plane as her orgasm built.

Pushing up to him, Esmee forced her fingers round his cock, her nails scratching, pushing alongside into her cunt.

David began to feel his own orgasm straining inside his balls like a dam ready to burst. Their bodies crash into each other as they approached the moment of fulfilment.

Esmee; "I am on fire groaning, spinning in ecstasy as you fill me." David felt his semen pumping from my cock, one, two three, four, five six huge pulses filling her cunt. "You writhe screaming with ecstasy as your cunt grips my prick in orgasm, your juices mixing with mine."

Their naked bodies slippery with sweat, they lay on the soft grass, breathing hard, kissing, laughing, listening to the hum of bees and the song of birds, wondering if it could be like this for ever, nestling contentedly before drifting off to sleep.