It was one of those visual images that had stuck with me for twenty years: flying across Lake Michigan at night, window seat, watching the thin line of lights on the western horizon slowly unfold, brighten and expand. Chicago: a giant wheel of lights, moving and stationary, radiating from the hub; defined and edged by the inky black void of the lake.
So it was with great excitement that I looked out the window again last night, the sky a bit hazier than my memory, but the lights that I remembered from several decades ago were again looming in the distance. As the jet pulled over the shoreline and began its descent into O'Hare, I looked out at the massive pancake of a city, pulsing with light, throbbing with life, and thought about how you were down there somewhere, among the millions, waiting for my arrival. How these random human connections are made will always remain somewhat of a mystery to me.
The next 18 hours would fly by: long taxi ride to the hotel downtown, good night's sleep, and meetings the next day. I went through the paces, but the thought of our impending date was never far from my thoughts. I had looked at my watch far too many times during the day, hoping I wasn't conveying a sense of impatience to my clients. But the truth was, I was jumping out my skin with the anticipation of meeting you in person.
Our e-mails, instant messaging sessions and phone calls had escalated in temperature over the past few weeks, culminating in an IM session several nights ago that had left us both breathless and unable to type. You had pussy juice dripping off your fingers onto the keyboard; I had been careful not to spray cum all over mine. But as exciting and hot as our cyber and phone conversations had been, they paled in comparison to the potential heat awaiting us both this evening.
It had all started innocently enough. You had e-mailed me about an online erotic story I'd written – telling me how you loved the way I wrote about sucking nipples. Well, it's hard to ignore or not respond to an e-mail like that. One e-mail had led to another, the sexual innuendoes and tension slowly building, to a point that we ended up on an instant messaging site and cyber-fucked one another's brains out. It had been very intense.
You had some experience in this mode of sexual expression; I had none. But I caught on quickly and we had some mind-blowing sessions. I was in awe of your sexual energy and your ability to express yourself in terms both sensual and downright dirty. We pushed one another's limits and had begun to build a relationship that seemed to transcend the electronic connection of the internet.
We had moved onto phone sex and that had opened up a whole new world to me. You, again, had some experience in this area and I was a neophyte, but a willing student. Our phone sessions had become so intense that we both had a hard time breathing. I had never imagined that sex, without actually touching or entering someone, could be so intense or so pleasurable.
As our sessions had intensified and our interest in one another grew, an actual face to face meeting suddenly seemed quite logical. We had bandied about the idea, but were afraid that the reality might not meet our lofty expectations or that we might not feel the same physical attraction in the flesh that we felt online. But something told us both that this was the logical thing to do and we had embraced this meeting and anticipated its impending arrival.
And that evening is now here and my pulse is racing. We had spoken on the phone briefly last night and I had sensed the nervousness in your voice, perhaps amplified by the hesitation in my own. I patter about the hotel room after showering, getting dressed, neatening up the hotel room with the thought that you will be here before the evening is over. I can't believe I'm so nervous. But I take a deep breath and remind myself that over the months we have shared our deepest desires and there is little we haven't written or spoken about.
Still, there is the tension of finally presenting our physical selves to one another, devoid of the distance and anonymity that cyberspace allows. Tonight we will come face to face, and while we've shared photos, had endless phone conversations and written volumes, the senses of sight, smell and touch have been mute. Tonight we will finally look into one another's eyes and touch one another's skin, and the thought is both daunting and intoxicating.
I look at my watch for the hundredth time today and realize, finally, it's time to go. I throw on my sport coat, look around the room one final time, check for my wallet and head out the door, a lump in my throat. It seems like a long ride down from the 28th floor, but the doors soon part and I head across the lobby to the bar. It seems like a good idea to meet in the hotel's bar and then have dinner in the restaurant as well. I'm a few minutes early, but I like the idea of staking out a couple of seats at the bar and getting the lay of the land. I find two bar stools at the end of the long curved wooden bar, order myself a Grey Goose gimlet on the rocks and fortify myself with a sip. I survey the scene and feel comfortable that this will be a nice, quiet and very private venue for our first meeting.
I'm peering over the rim of my glass, feeling the rush of vodka and lime juice, when I see you enter. I put my glass down on the bar and smile. You see me immediately and smile back. I am awestruck. Your petite body moves toward me. You are dressed in a slinky short black dress that hugs your body. The black silk contrasts beautifully with your dark skin and complements your black hair. The thin spaghetti straps look alluring and your high heels give a sexy sway to your walk. We grin at one another like Cheshire cats.
You reach the bar and we lean together to kiss cheeks. I detect a subtle aroma of violet and my head spins. I help you scoot onto the bar stool and admire all the thigh showing from your short dress. I sneak a peek at your lovely breasts and think of all the fun we've had fantasizing about them; about me licking them and sucking on your sensitive nipples.
"Hello, Molly," I say, attempting to sound cool, calm and collected.
"Hi, Joe," you say with a sweet smile.
"What can I get you?"
"White wine. It's so nice to finally meet you."
"A glass of the Verdicchio, please," I say to the bartender. "Nice to meet you too, Molly. I can't tell you how nervous I've been."
I breathe a deep sigh. The bartender puts a tall thin goblet of chilled white wine on the bar, we grab our glasses and toast.
"To new friendships," I say.
"And to tonight," you add.
We settle into a comfortable patter, the alcohol soothes the transition and before long we're rattling on like we're old friends, which we are in a way. I sneak admiring glances at your body, your dark skin, slinky dress, round breasts. I can feel you checking out my slender wiry frame as well. My mind races with graphic thoughts of what's to come. You look fantastic in black and the silver cuff bracelet you've worn is a beautiful accent. You're eyes sparkle with wit and intelligence. This is no surprise to me; I knew how smart you were from the first time you had contacted me. But it's so tantalizing to see it, hear it, know it, in the flesh.
The maitre'd lets us know our table is ready. We grab our glasses and I follow you to our table, watching your sweet round ass sway as you walk; wondering what you will look like naked. We are led to a table for four in the corner; I sit to the side so we aren't conversing over a large table. I'm closer to you this way as well.
Dinner is fabulous and our wide-ranging conversation circles around myriad topics: work, travel, books, movies, politics, music. The alcohol warms our spirits, the food sustains us, and the night is alive with expectation. As you curl your delicate fingers around the stem of your wine glass, I reach out my fingers and lightly touch your hand.
"I'm not really in the mood for dessert, Molly. Are you?" I inquire.
"Not really." You pause. "What are you in the mood for, Joe?" you ask with a sly grin.
"Well, let's see?"
My hand goes below the tablecloth and finds your knee. Your skin is warm and smooth. I stroke your inner thigh just above your knee.
"I thought I'd take you up to my room and open a nice bottle of Barolo I've got stashed upstairs."
You smile and put your hand on mine and push it up your thigh a little higher. I look around the restaurant, but we have quite a bit of privacy in the corner and our under-table shenanigans will not be noticed.
"I'm going to stroke you and caress you, take your clothes off very slowly. And I mean very slowly. I want to savor unveiling your body, piece by piece, until you're naked and completely exposed to me. Then I'm going to lick and kiss every square inch of your body. I want to gently suck your nipples, feel them stiffen on my tongue. I want to nibble my way along your thighs, kissing and licking, making you wet."
I pause to see if this talk is having any effect on you; it's certainly having an effect on me as I squirm to adjust my raging erection. You have a seductive smile on your face and your lips are slightly parted. My hand goes further up your inner thigh, savoring the texture of your smooth skin.
"I'm going to adore your pussy with my mouth and fingers and gently suck on your throbbing clit. I'm going to turn you on and arouse you to a point that you are begging me to fuck you. And then..."
I pause and look at you.
"Then, what? What are you going to do to me?" you ask in a whisper.
I lean toward your ear.
"I'm going to fuck you harder and longer and deeper than anyone has ever, EVER, fucked you, Molly. So good and long and deep. You're going to come so hard – and so am I – deep inside you. And I'm going to do it all night long, and again tomorrow – several times. Maybe we won't even leave the bed tomorrow. Maybe we'll just suck and fuck all day long – tell stories, talk, take showers, order room service, stroke one another, learn about one another's bodies – and then fuck some more – sometimes nice and slow and tender – sometimes in a pounding frenzy. I can't wait to fuck you, Molly. I've wanted this for so long."
"Let's go, Joe," you say as you throw down your napkin.
"I would, but, I have a little, no, a big problem." I point south. "I need to get rid of this first."
"Ha!" you giggle.
"If you had a bucket of cold water to throw on me right now, that might help. Or we could talk about accounting practices or baseball statistics. How about those Cubbies?"
You laugh and squeeze my hand.
"You've made me wet with all your talk, Joe. Really wet. We need to go. Now."
"Tell you what. This sucker is not going down any time soon. I have a sport coat. I'll place it in front of me and we'll ease out the door. Okay?"
"Sure. Let's go," you say with a wicked smile.
You stand up and lead the way. I make an attempt to cover my hard-on, but the loose linen trousers I have on do nothing to help hide my excitement. I fold the jacket over my wrist and walk awkwardly out of the restaurant. You turn and laugh at my predicament, but in a minute we're in the lobby and headed for the elevator. We share it with another couple who looks bored and numb. I smile knowing what's coming for us. You snuggle next to me and put your hand on my ass. The other couple gets off on the 19th floor and the door closes. We share a deep wet kiss.
The doors open and we scamper off the elevator and down the hall, holding hands like two kids in a candy store. You look so delectable; I just want to eat you up. I slide the key card in and we enter. You whistle.
"Nice place. This is really, really nice. Oh, and what a view?"
You saunter over to the window. The room looks south over Grant Park and the lights of the Loop stretch before us. They roll into the distance and bend eastward with the curve of the lake, looking like a shimmering necklace stretching toward Gary and beyond. I pour two glasses of the rich red wine, adjust the lights and bring you a glass as you stand by the window. We toast silently, take a sip and put our glasses down.
I move behind you and gently place my hands on your bare shoulders. Even in your sexy heels the top of your head only comes up to my chin. I'm so turned on by your petite body. I lean in, pull your thick black hair together in my left hand and place my lips ever so gently on the nape of your neck. I give you a kiss, then trace my lips up your neck, nuzzling in under your ear lobe.
"I need you so bad, Molly. I need all of you. Every single square inch," I whisper into your ear.
You moan almost imperceptibly as I kiss up and down the right side of your neck; wet kisses that leave a faint trail of saliva on your skin. I nibble your earlobe and breathe lightly into your ear. I run my hands, barely touching your skin, along your shoulders, down your arms, and place them on your belly, your sweet belly. I pull you into my hardness, cantilevered out at a ridiculous angle against your back – so hard and stiff and ready to be deep inside your pussy. You turn and our lips meet. Yours are so soft, wet and open. We kiss, gently at first, tongues swirling and licking. Time seems like it's standing still. You reach down and stroke by cock through my pants – it's poking very unceremoniously into your upper stomach – and I moan deeply into your ear.
I put my hands on either side of your face as we kiss. I reach down and cup your sweet buns and pull you to me, feeling you gasp as we press together; my cock a stiff protrusion tucked between our compressed bodies. I kiss your face, your ears, your neck, and my hands wander down from your shoulders and gently caress your silk clad breasts. I lower the thin straps of your dress off your shoulders, then I reach behind to find the zipper, and I lower it, slowly. I pull the dress downward, and you step out of it, looking me in the eye. You are wearing a black strapless bra and your round breasts look like they want to explode out of the delicate fabric. Your black lace panties look exquisite in the soft light, descending tightly into a delicate puffy silk mound at your center.
"Take me, Joe. I need your fuck," you groan as I caress your exquisite body.
I pull you back toward the bed. I sit down and your bra-clad breasts are there, level with my eyes as you stand before me in your heels, bra and panties. I reach behind and unhook your bra. I hold it in place, however, and gently lick the exposed part of your upper breasts, nuzzling my way closer and closer to your nipples. I lean back and gently let the bra fall away. For the first time your beautiful breasts are exposed. They are exquisite and just the way you had described them. The brown aureolae are crowned by dark distended nipples, hard with excitement and anticipation. I smile with the realization that they are what connected us in the first place.
"Oh my God, Molly. You're so beautiful," I stammer.
"These are for you, Joe. Suck me."
I lightly trace their outline, using the softest touch imaginable, barely skirting the delicate skin of your breasts. My palm lightly presses against your nipples and I feel you squirm with excitement.
"Feed them to me, Molly."
You place your hand under your left breast and lift it to my waiting mouth. My tongue projects forth and lightly licks the tip – so softly and gently. I hear you catch your breath. I purse my lips around the entire areola and suck in, sliding my tongue along the nipple tip in my mouth. I hear you gasp. I kiss and suckle your breasts, wet noises emanating from our union.
You lift the other breast and I pay attention to your right breast, again licking and caressing with soft wet strokes of my tongue and lips. The tips are hard and firm and so sensitive. I can feel my slightest lick send a tremble through your body. I lick on your nipple, then blow air onto it. I suck it in just a little, then blow softly to create a little pressure. I can feel your body reacting and I can already smell the sweet aroma of your excitement – letting me know you are ready for me, ready for more.
While I'm sucking your breasts my hands wander down to your lower regions. I feel your lacy panties encasing your treasure and want them gone. I squeeze your cheeks and feel the soft fullness of your round bottom. I continue to lick and suck your nipples, using lots of saliva, as I hook my fingertips into the top of your panties and begin to pull down, slowly sliding them along your smooth brown thighs. You step out of them and now stand before me in only your sexy black heels.
I pull you back to me, your breasts protruding proudly, right at mouth level. As I return to sucking and licking your breasts my hands move to your tummy and begin a slow descent. My right thumb slides down over your tuft of pubic hair to find the top of your slit where I gently begin to rub your clit. My left hand slides up your inner thigh, so soft, and nestles its way into your crotch, feeling the slickness of your juices lubricating my advance. I gently insert my left middle finger and wiggle it as I massage your clit with my right thumb and suck your sweet hard nipples. You moan in approval and pull my head into your bosom.
"Oh, yes! Suck my nipples, Joe. They're all for you, baby. Suck them!"
And I do, with relish. I can feel your hips gyrating to my manual rhythm and can hear the squishy sounds my hands are making. Your breasts are covered in my saliva as my tongue whirls around and, every once in awhile, my lips purse and pull your nipple gently into my mouth where I flick it with my tongue. I'm making wet slurpy sounds as I continue to adore your glorious nipples. You are very turned on now and I'm right there with you. I feel it's time to move on.
"Turn around, Molly. Let me see your sweet ass, baby," I implore.
You turn and I gaze at your lovely bottom.
"Spread your legs a little and put your hands on your knees."
You part your legs and lean forward. The view of your ass is awe-inspiring and I note the subtle aroma of your sex as it boggles my brain. Words escape me as I am totally lost in the moment. I massage your ass cheeks and can hear the stickiness of your lips as they part wetly with my kneading. I can see the tight pucker of your anus. I reach between your legs and cup your mons with the palm of my hand. I feel how wet you are already and hear you moan as the pressure of my palm compresses your fleshy labia, so warm, so full of promise for the evening unfolding.
I jump up off the bed, spin you around so you're facing the bed and tell you to lean forward onto the mattress. You lean on your elbows, your ass in the air. I kneel on the floor, my face even with your hips. I can see the gaping lips of your sex, open from behind, begging me to suck them into my hungry mouth. Your lips are a beautiful brown color, rich ridges of light chocolate. But inside, I see the moist bright pink of your deepest recesses, waiting for my tongue.
I begin to lick. I lick your thighs; I lick your ass, my tongue circles around and into your anus. All the while my hands are sliding over your ass and thighs, admiring the smooth silky texture of your skin. You push your ass into the air more and my tongue slithers and finds the warm moist slit of your pussy. I slide my tongue up and down your lips, licking your juices, soaking them up into my mouth. I push my tongue as far into your vagina as I can, tasting your goodness, feeling you gush with excitement. I'm suffocating in the warm folds of your fleshy lips, my nose sunken deep in your luscious labia. You're moaning and telling me to push my tongue deeper. I slurp and lick and the sounds of my oral ministrations and the pungent aroma of your secretions fill the air with lust and pleasure.