The Pleasure Ledger Pt. 01

This story starts out rather slow, so take your time if and when you start reading. There's definitely more to come. The events are based on actual memories and experiences, but all names and places are fictitious.

This isn't my first erotic story, but my first one written in English, for a broader audience. That's not my native language, so please be gentle when it comes to linguistic mishaps.

That being said, enjoy! - Peeter Silver

Trust and Respect

What is the right correlation between sex and relationships? I admit this is a philosophical question to which everyone will have a different answer. The conclusions that I eventually reached for myself were the following: both are built on the same foundation of trust and respect. As long as you trust and respect each other, you can be best friends, without ever having sex. You can also have great sex without being in a steady relationship. You cannot, however, have either of these without mutual trust and respect.

When I am intimate with a woman, I want to able to let my guard down, to completely let go. To trust her, and to know she will respect me, my desires, and my boundaries. And I want her to be able to do the same, for the same reasons. True intimacy is a state of mind.

Then again, as the saying goes, the biggest disappointments never come from the people we are wary of, but always from the ones we trust the most. Which is where this story starts. I have had relationships or affairs end because of sexual disagreements before. It usually happened rather early on, and most of the times in a respectful "thanks, but no, thanks" kind of way. The last one was different, though.

Rebecca and I had been a solid item for more than two years. I was seriously considering taking this to the next level and asking the big question. There was just... Well, I was 35 at the time that happened. In my younger years, I had some rather wild relationships -- well, one very long one in particular -- that included a fair share of mutual open-mindedness, curiosity and experimentation when it came to sex. Some of that stuck, and left me with some phantasies and desires that turned me on big time but were somewhat off the beaten track.

I had never really pursued these with Rebecca. I had dropped some hints here and there to pique her interest, but she had mostly ignored it, or jokingly asked whether I was serious. Or at least that's what I thought it was. In hindsight, maybe 'dismissive' was a better term. Anyway, these desires were important to me, as they instilled a lot of lust and satisfaction. They also required unquestioned trust and respect. True intimacy. The last thing you want to happen in a such an intense moment is to be laughed at or scolded at.

So before committing to spend my life with her, I wanted to be sure we can share these phantasies. Maybe I should have done this earlier, but everything else with her and about her was so great that this never quite made the top of the list. That's where it all went wrong, though.

One evening, we were in bed together. We had just had sex, and what great sex it was! We were both spent. We marveled in the afterglow and talked about it, reliving those passionate moments in soft-spoken words. So, I asked her whether next time, she'd be willing to try something new. Initially, she was interested. After I told her what I wanted, though, she completely unraveled. In an instant.

Rebecca berated and belittled me, basically screaming at me how she could ever trust such a pervert. She insisted that if I wanted her to ever talk to me again, I would have to apologize and promise her to not even think about anything like this again, let alone talk about it. She even went so far as to announce that she would test me, show me related porn clips, and if they would turn me on ever so slightly, she would "cut my dick off".

Her mood didn't improve the next day, or the day after. Gone were the sweet nicknames, replaced by a barrage of insults. She openly talked on the phone to some of her friends about "how disgusting" I was, asking for advice on how to "set me straight". Needless to say, the whole situation was humiliating and abusive. So much for trust, respect, and disappointments.

I moved out a few days later. The house was in my name, and I had lived there even before we met, but I couldn't take it anymore and stayed with friends who supported me through the breakup. Red lines had been crossed. Fortunately, it didn't get as messy as one might fear. Rebecca seemed to realize her reaction was somewhat over the top and showed some remorse. She found a new place to live, and I moved back into my house a month later. We never talked again.

Not surprisingly, I wasn't considering any kind of relationships for a long time after that. Over the three years that followed, there were two short affairs, but I ended both of them when I felt I that couldn't let my guard down. Which wasn't necessarily the women's fault. I was still hurt.

Eventually, though, being by myself really started getting to me and I was looking for ways how to best approach this. I didn't want to run the risk again of getting to know someone, fall in love, and then find out I would have to hide a part of myself once again. Instead, I was set on putting my desires first. That may sound selfish, it probably is, but my idea was that even though this would obviously drastically cut down on the number of women who'd even talk to me, if I could find someone who'd be willing to share my phantasies, whom I could trust and who would respect me even with that, then trust and respect for everything else would be much more likely than the other way around.

I started looking at dating platforms on the Internet, of which there are way more than you might think. Obviously, I wasn't interested in the ones where the primary questions were along the lines of how many Billy Joël albums you own or whether you prefer your Double Ristretto Venti Organic Iced Vanilla Double-Shot Upside Down Double Blended Frappuccino with soy, skim, or whole milk.

I started profiles on a handful of web sites where I wanted to take a closer look around, to get a feeling for what was going on. I quickly deleted some of them, when it became apparent that many of the female profiles were fakes, or that the site had an impertinent payment model. After several months, profiles on three different sites were left and I regularly checked in on them. I had a couple of messaging exchanges, and one actual date that was a nice dinner, but not more. The good thing was that at this stage, there weren't any obligations, so if a conversation went nasty, I could simply block it and move on.

After a year or so, I came across a dating site that had emerged from a former erotic magazine. I kind of remembered seeing its title page in the darker corners of gas station newspaper shelves many years ago. It turned out that they kept an archive with selected issues of the old magazine on their domain for registered members. They mostly contained erotic short stories, sex toy reviews and 'red light district reports' which were written in a way that made me think very few if any of these encounters were true. It also seemed to have been a somewhat regional publication; as far as I could determine, none of the 'reports' or store ads were for places more than a three-hour drive away.

What the magazine did have, though, was a dating section -- even back in the day when you still had to write actual letters addressed to a PO box. It was subdivided by sexual preferences and aptly named the 'Pleasure Ledger'.

As the internet became popular, that magazine obviously didn't stand a chance, but the publishers saw the writing on the wall in good time and moved the whole thing online, where it still existed. I was skeptical at first, but the site seemed well maintained, and setting up my profile involved email exchanges with what felt like a real person. I actually felt welcome. Also, the dating section still seemed to be mostly limited to this part of the country, so the total number of profiles was more in the thousands than in the tens or hundreds of thousands. But the admins did a good job, the page was clearly alive and looked promising.

Within weeks, it became my favorite site to browse. I constantly adjusted my profile by updating bits of information here and there or replacing pictures. On the one hand side, this kept my 'activity score' up, which allegedly made it more likely to get contacted; on the other hand, it gave me the opportunity to see what would trigger replies and what wouldn't.

Don't get me wrong here. It's not like I spent hours on hours every day on dating sites. Sure, I was looking for someone, but I also wasn't that unhappy with my life. I enjoyed my job, had great friends, and kept enough things going on to keep me busy in my spare time. So, yes, I was looking for someone, but it was not my sole priority.

I went online mostly on weekends, and sometimes on an evening during the week. I also very rarely actively contacted any of the women who came up in my search, though I bookmarked some of them. Mostly I waited to be contacted, which in my experience significantly lowered the chances of getting hooked up with a fake profile. After some bad experiences I had become rather wary of those. In any case, I had all notifications turned on in case someone messaged me, so that I could reply quickly.

First Contact

One of the profiles on the 'Pleasure Ledger' that caught my attention about three months ago belonged to '@Letty_43'. I checked it out again and again, and eventually bookmarked it. Her listing was in the same categories as mine, and unlike many other profiles, she never changed that, even though she did regularly update her information very much like I did. All her pictures were taken in a way that her face was never visible, but they all seemed authentic. She had some tattoos on her wrist, shoulders, and legs, which proved the person was the same on all pictures, albeit in different locations and at different ages. From the latest images I judged her to be about my age or slightly older. I had just turned 40, so that matched with her username.

I very much liked what I saw. Her profile said she was 5'8", in line with what I saw on the pictures. She wasn't just skin and bones, but very obviously a woman with inspiring curves in all the right places who, judging by her photos, looked equally striking in a business suit, in jeans and tank top, or in a one-piece bathing suit. Her hair was long and dark brown, almost black. It was also quite wild and all over the place; somewhere between Princess Merida and Andie MacDowell. She seemed to have a nice tan and freckles on her upper arms. Everything on her profile emanated confidence and high spirit.

I often thought of her, but somehow never got myself to writing her. I guess part of me was scared that all of that was too good to be true, and in the end, it was just another fake profile. I didn't want my phantasies shattered this way. But if it was legit, I was at least equally scared of spoiling it by contacting her with a totally underwhelming message. I often tried to come up with something, drafted all kinds of messages, but never mustered the courage to hit 'Send'.

Then one rainy summer evening came. It was after nine, I had settled on my couch and was watching a TV series which had just started a new season when my cell phone dinged at me. I ignored it at first, as the intricate story unfolding on screen was demanding my full attention. However, curiosity eventually won out, I hit pause on the TV and picked up the phone. There was a notification on the 'Please Ledger' app.

I logged in and almost fell off the couch when I read: "New message from @Letty_43". I don't know how long I stared at the little screen before eventually going to my inbox. The note read: "Hey there! You seem pretty shy for a stalker, considering how often you visit my profile. Will you ever write?"

I was somewhat taken aback. How did she know? Only later did I learn that the site had a stalking protection feature that informed women if the same person visited their profile over and over again, including the option to block them. So, it was now or never. My heart pounded like wild, and my hands were shaking from excitement, so there was no way I could type an answer on my phone. While I waited for the computer to be ready, I thought about what to write.

In the end, I gave up trying to be smart and just said it the way it was: "Oh my, I'm so sorry. You have no idea how many drafts I wrote, but never sent." Wow, that was desperate, I chided myself.

"Why not?" was her simple and almost immediate reply. She was still online.

"I was afraid to burst the bubble."

"What bubble?"

"You. I admire your pictures and your notes about yourself. They are perfect. I figured if I got in touch, either it turns out you're not real, or I ruin it by writing something stupid."

"Well, so far, I'm not perfect, and you're not stupid."

"Are you sure about that?"

"About me, yes. About you, no. But the fact that you are capable of writing complete English sentences already differentiates you from 95% of the guys who usually contact me. It's quite refreshing to read something else than 'wanna fuck?'"

I was really tempted, but obviously she could read my mind. Before I could answer anything, her next message read, "Don't you dare write that now ;-)"

"Darn. You got me."

"Haha."

And then I was stuck. Once again, I had no idea what to write now that the opening dialogue had come to an end. Despite of what she had said, now I did feel stupid. After a long pause, she took the initiative once again: "Hello? Now what? Will you just keep silently staring at my photos, or is there something you'd like to know while I'm still here?"

Her question did to my brain what dropping Mentos into a bottle of Coke does. In an instant, thousands of questions shot through my mind, and I wanted to ask them all at once. There was one that stood out, though. "The one thing I am most curious about is your face."

"I do have one, yes."

That made me laugh. "Guess I earned that one. To be more precise: I would like to see your face."

" :-) Not yet. And if you ever will, it will not be on a photo."

"Now I'm even more curious."

"Good. Maybe then you'll write again. I need to sign off now, long day."

I wished her a good night, but there was no reply, and the messenger showed her as offline. I sat in front of my computer for a long time after that, just thinking about what had happened. So, she was real. I had survived first contact. Two wins, but that didn't lower the stakes one bit. It was clear that it was on me to follow up, and I wanted it to be more than just trivial small talk.

It's no surprise that I hardly slept that night, constantly writing and dismissing notes in my mind. What did I know about her? Well, obviously what was written in her profile, but nothing more. What else could I guess from that? That got me thinking. And eventually I decided to go with that. I finally gave up on sleeping at five in the morning, made some coffee and started typing on the computer:

"Hey there! Obviously, there's more I like to know. I'll just go ahead and guess, and you tell me how close I am. Or how far off. I saw your business attire. Not formal enough for bank or attorney, but making a point, so I'd say project manager. Probably team leader level. You have a technical background, maintaining that classic BMW yourself. So I'd say you have an engineering degree and work at a mid-sized machine building company. You have a good group of friends who support you. I can't see your face on any pictures, but every face that I can see is laughing. You're active, but not sports-crazy. Having a good time comes first. You like wine more than beer, preferably red. Cocktails only on special occasions. For music, I'll go with Jazz and Rock. You live alone and like to tend to the garden. There is a hammock in the back where you read your books. You like to cook, but not if it's just for you. How's that?"

I didn't proof-read what I wrote, because I figured if I start tinkering with the text, I'll never finish. I knew it contained some clichés and some bold assumptions, but I just hit 'send' anyway. Then I took a shower and went to work early. It was Friday, and I was glad I had something to take my mind off that conversation; otherwise, my head would probably have exploded. Fortunately, time passed quickly and before long it was evening, I was home again, enjoying the dinner I grabbed on the way.

When I checked earlier during lunch break, the app had shown my message as "read". It was almost seven now, but no reaction so far. I was starting to wonder if there would ever be an answer. I tried to read, but couldn't concentrate, so I fired up the TV again. When my phone finally dinged about an hour later, I almost leapt from the couch.

Her answer read: "Sweetie, we need to talk."

Oh my. That meant I had either scored big, or totally messed up. I couldn't wait, so I replied "Uh-oh, I'm in trouble."

"Haha xD Scared you, didn't I?"

I started on a reply, but saw that she was typing again, so I waited. "Nice résumé. Some hits, a few misses. More on that later. It's been a tedious day, and I need to get off the screen."

On the spur of the moment, I sent a single short reply: my number.

Less than ten seconds later, my phone came to live. I recognized the area code; the call came from somewhere about a 60 to 90-minute drive away. Not too bad. I hit the green button and, because I couldn't think of anything else, said "Hey there!"

There was a short giggle and the other end, followed by "That's my text, you know." Her voice immediately sent chills down my spine. The good kind of chills. I was a full, warm voice with a humorous undertone. You could practically hear her winking as she said it.

"So, are you asking for a license fee?"

"Hm, I never thought about that... maybe I should. What do you normally say when you answer the phone?"

"Hello. You've reached...," I gave my best computer-voice imitation, spelled out the digits of my phone number and went on, "...please leave your number and message after the beep." I ended with a whistle. I actually did answer my phone like that sometimes. I was totally aware that was like lowest dad-joke level. It worked surprisingly often, though, at least with telemarketers or people who didn't know me.

Perfectly playing along, she formally replied "Yeah, uhm, this is Letitia Saunders." After repeating her phone number, she continued "Someone at your residence sent me a résumé I'd like to discuss, so I'd appreciate if they could get back to me on this. Thank you, bye!"

What I didn't expect was that she hung up on me immediately after. That worked a little too well. It took me a moment, then I called her back. She immediately picked up and said, of course, "hey there!"

"I have to admit, it sounds so much better when you say it."

"I know, right?"

"Well, first things first, since I know your full name now, this is Travis Holden."

"Well thank you, Travis, that helps. Your screen name kinda looks like you mixed up the user and password fields when signing up."

That made me laugh, though I had to admit she was right and my screen name was kind of cryptic. "Yes, well, I don't know why, but 'Travis39' didn't work for me. So, how did I do?" By now, all the anxiety was gone. Talking to her immediately felt natural, I was in a great mood and settled in on my couch while she was pondering her reply.

"You're that, curious, huh?" Despite the inflection it was clear this was a statement, not a question. "Well, you were close on most things. I guess my profile gives away quite a lot. So, yes, I do have a master's degree in mechanical engineering, as do both of my parents and my two brothers. It runs in the family, I guess. I've been with the same company, mid-sized as you said, for twenty years now. I actually started out designing and building pumps, but then people kept telling me I'm way too organized to be an engineer, and so I moved on to project management. I do lead a team. What next..."