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Making myself as inconspicuous as I could, or deluding myself, I stopped and counted to five before I set off again, this time behind a couple of horny honeymooners. To think that I was once like that. Sorry, ‘we.’ Paul and I were once like that, linking arms and offering up our lips at every traffic intersection.
The couple ahead were somewhere within their late thirties, maybe their early forties. They smiled. They talked. In the time it took to walk by four shop frontages, they had kissed twice, the second time with a little tongue.
I wasn’t sexually excited or envious. Curiosity kept my legs active. My brain felt like a banged up CD; the relationship precinct in my brain muddled through long lost lyrics, skipping essential lyrics. Somewhere among the lyric lay my own question. Would I ever be like the bottom heavy woman ahead of me and receive unconditional arse pats and kisses on the way to the fucking bank?
Sobered by the sexual odd couple and the crisp cool air, I watched them fade and step into the internet café. Great, I thought. I traveled all this way from home to log on to a computer in the city. I had a laptop at home. I could sit on the porch, use my wireless hours, and watch YouTube. But I traveled to the city.
It was a strange day, one that was charged with potential.
The café, an automated internet bar, was semi-crowded. I wasn’t a public porno surfer but sought the comfort of a corner seat. After depositing three hours worth of coins in the slot and create a user name and password, I walked through the chatters, surfers and webcam enthusiasts. Five minutes later, I had found the ideal spot.
There wasn’t much to do. I’d checked my email earlier and I paid a few overdue bills. What else? I could read the news sites, but I’d decided on a news diet. No more wars, political buffoons or celebrity drivel. I clicked open three browser tabs and yielded to the curious adult within. It was as the dating site opened up that I realised that my tame, near pathetic, domestic persona is tame.
As my eyes adjusted to the bright screen and the smiling ‘sexy’ members, I remembered my just-for-laughs user name. The password required an email prompt, so I waited a little and refreshed my free email account. Part of me can’t believe that what I’m about to do. The other part dismisses the seriousness. It is just for fun.
Finally, I logged in. The real-time chat screen updates me on my personal winks and messages. Nothing. I’d deleted the hundred or so messages I’d received a year before. The picture with my profile isn’t real, but it isn’t far off. I’d like to think that my nude physical proportions are similar to the seated woman on my profile.
I remembered the hot summer’s day I created the profile. Paul had gone away on a weekend fishing trip and I was holed up at home with a dreaded stomach virus. SexyGenie it was. It felt as lame then as it did now, but the hungry male members didn’t mind. In less than ten minutes, I received five chat requests, ten winks and eight messages.
“Not bad,” I muttered, watchful of the Japanese tourist two seats away. Did she hear me? Maybe she was up to similar things?
Like a duck to water, I succumbed to online routine. I clicked each notification by the profile name. In real life, preferences matter little. I tend to be sexually motivated by interpersonal chemistry. But I do settle on one user name, G Minor. Must be a musician, I think. He politely asks if I’d like to chat over coffee.
It’s on…
SexyGenie: Are you buying?
G Minor: Let’s see if I have the right money…I’m a little poor.
SexyGenie: Is there such a thing? *grins*
G Minor: I like your profile. It’s interesting…especially the bit about chocolate covered marshmallows.
He gets straight to the point. I like it.
SexyGenie: Soft, sweet…they feel like talcum skin.
G Minor: How old are you? Talcum? Who wears that? Wait…I know. My grandmother.
SexyGenie: I can even satisfy that fantasy.
G Minor: LMAO
SexyGenie: You jest? Do you see me joking?
G Minor: What turns you on…I’ll be straight. I’m hard thinking about your picture and straightforward introduction.
SexyGenie: I don’t muck about.
G Minor: Would you squirm if I licked my way down your naked back?
I decide to cross my right leg over my left. If I don’t, it’ll nervously bounce up and down, revealing my nascent horniness.
G Minor: I’d run my hands over your soft skin…over your waist, over your stomach and between your soft inner thighs.
SexyGenie: Don’t stop now. You missed my boobs.
G Minor: I know. It’s too obvious. The first place. I’d like to wait until your nipples are painfully hard from the wait.
SexyGenie: That’s nice. Sexual agony makes me wet.
G Minor: What else makes you wet?
SexyGenie: Large hands massaging my inner thighs. The sensation of a hard cock against my clothed arse. Spending a day at work wearing duo balls wedged deep inside my cunt, knowing that I’m fully greased up and no one else knowing.
G Minor: Fuck, now that makes me harder still. Are you wearing any duo balls now?
SexyGenie: No. I don’t have to. I’m…let’s say…open to suggestion.
G Minor: Open to suggestion?
SexyGenie: If someone decided to finger fuck me now, I’m wet-ready for it. I shouldn’t talk about it, it makes me hornier still.
G Minor: Horny enough for?
SexyGenie: Horny enough to be fucked.
G Minor: How do you like to be fucked?
SexyGenie: Now that’s something to think about.
G Minor: I don’t have all day sweet lips.
SexyGenie: It depends on my mood and the place. The level of my excitement? Right now, I can be taken anywhere. Bent over a desk, cock shoved deep into me. I can deal with that. Other times I like to be fucked slow or slow enough so I can half-sit and watch the cock sliding in and out of me, wet and hard.
G Minor: You give me ideas. Do you think you’re wet.
SexyGenie: Think? I know. If I squeeze my thighs any harder, I’ll orgasm.
The unfamiliar familiarity of cybersex caught me. Cheeks flustered and clit pulsing beneath my skirt, I fought the urge to discreetly rub my pussy with the back of my hand.
G Minor: I’d love to feel your sticky cunt…stick my fingers inside you and whip you into a lather. Then I’d turn you around, slide my cock into your pussy and fuck you.
SexyGenie: That sounds nice.
It sounded ideal. So ideal that I lost myself.
SexyGenie: Are you fucking me now? In your mind…pulling my thighs apart, settling between my legs?
G Minor: I’m rubbing my cockhead up and down your slit, teasing your clit. You’re saturated…gooey and edible. You moan, beg me to fuck you. But I eat your pretty cunt, beginning at your juicy hole…licking around it.
SexyGenie: Go on…don’t stop there. Fuck me with your hot tongue.
G Minor: Are you watching? Watch me sweets, watch my tongue…mmm…
SexyGenie: Fuck…my clit’s throbbing right now.
G Minor: I lick around your clit…you thrust upward, begging for my cock. I ask you, ‘How ready are you?’ and you shake your head, demanding to be fucked hard.
SexyGenie: That’s right. Demanding. I want you to own my cunt, to ram it hard until my juice runs out of my pussy. Fuck me…come one…fuck me hard.
G Minor: How bad do you want it?
SexyGenie: I need it…all the way inside me. Until I can feel your cock head ram my cervix. Until my thighs burn. Are you willing to fuck me that deep?
G Minor: I’m serious. Are you willing to take it out of here, this room?
I had to think about it.
SexyGenie: The way I feel right now…
I hadn’t had sex in months…Paul didn’t like ‘fucking’ and he hadn’t liked it for a long time. Porn didn’t help either, with Paul screwing up his face in disgust.
G Minor: Yeah, right now. Right now I’d take you somewhere and plough into your sweet pussy. You?
SexyGenie: Yes. I want a thick cock inside me. To let go. To be fucked.
G Minor: Turn around…
SexyGenie: What?
G Minor: Turn around…Turn your head.
(2 b cont’d)
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