Here's a story I wrote recently, inspired by one of our forum members to combine romance and sex:
Did It Really Happen?
It is one of those days of drudgery, tied to the computer, working for hours, trying to write. It is not going well. I am too distracted. Perhaps things will go better if I work somewhere else? Sometimes, moving from my office and the desktop computer to the living room and the laptop helps. I decide to give it a try.
Nothing doing. I am just as distracted. Only now, away from my office upstairs, with all the reminders of work, I find it even easier to drift away from my work tasks, and I look for anything to do but work. After drifting around on the web from news site to social networking to whatever, I check my email. There is a message from an address I have never seen before:
her@want-me.net. The subject line reads: "I am not spam."
That catches my attention. Of course it is spam, I surmise, but I must admit to being impressed by the cleverness of the subject line, so instead of instantly relegating the message to the trash, I decide to look. The message content is simple: "It's me. Click here."
I put the cursor over the clickable line to see what will show up at the bottom of my screen, fully expecting some long string of unintelligible letters and numbers comprising a URL somewhere in one of the spam or phishing capitols of Africa or Eastern Europe. But again, I am surprised. It reads: "This is real."
How did the spammer do that? I wonder. Now I am more than curious, and against my better judgment I click, fully expecting it to be the last time I will get any use out of my laptop computer.
What happens next is truly remarkable. On my computer screen comes a very small image, difficult to discern. I strain to make out what is in front of me. Gradually, I begin to see it clearly: the curve of a woman's smooth, bare shoulder.
Over the next several minutes, a barrage of small images arrives on my screen. At first, they are large enough to see, but after a second or so they become tiny and find a random place on my screen. The back of a woman's calf is followed by what I think is likely a particularly soft part of a woman's behind. Some hair falling against a back popped up, and then a partial picture of wet lips. The images continue, one after another, all bits and pieces of a woman coming to me in a completely random order. With some, it is impossible to tell exactly what part of the body they are, because they are small and out of context. Others are definite. There are perhaps three hundred separate images, and I can tell that some are front, like the navel, and some are back, like the crack of an ass. They are scattered all over my computer screen, disconnected. And then they stop coming.
I try to move them around with the cursor, but to no avail. I check my email again. There is a new message from
her@want-me.net. It reads: "Are you sure? Click here."
I am absolutely sure, so I click. Three final images arrive. First a nipple, and then another. Finally, two eyes. Even out of context, I can see that they are smiling.
Still, though, I cannot move the images on my screen. I check my mail again, and there is another message: "Now I am complete. Are you ready? Click here."
I don't think I've ever moved my cursor so quickly. I click. The hundreds of tiny image files on my desktop begin to whirl around. As the seconds go by, they begin to gather together like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle, beginning at the feet and moving up a pair of smooth, silk legs. But it isn't a static picture. As the pieces connect, the larger image they are creating begins to move, rotate even, and I see both the front and back of those legs. The picture expands to the top of the legs, and I am facing a beautiful derriere that is ever so slightly arched in the air. The body turns, but she seems to be clenching her legs together, not offering me as clear a view as the rear. It doesn't matter to my arousal, which is in full gear.
The images continue to swirl about, and I see a full back, with hair falling down it erotically, and a full torso, with two enticingly erect nipples. My cock is nearly poking through my pants. And then, quickly, the entire picture comes into view. As it turns from back to front, I see a beautiful woman. While I don't think I know her, she looks oddly familiar. She looks at me from the screen with deep, knowing eyes.
There is a sudden blinding flash of light, and what seems like an explosion. I can see nothing, but it feels as if I am hurtling through space at a rapid speed. Then, suddenly, everything is calm. A woman's voice says: "Open your eyes."
The woman from the computer screen is sitting next to me on the couch. She is dressed in a simple black dress that barely covers her. The living room has been transformed; it is now softly lit with candles. The air has an aroma of flowers and fresh spring rain. I can hear some quiet music beneath everything. There is a bottle of red wine and two glasses on the table.
"Do you want to kiss me?" she asks.
I take her in my arms, running my hands over her shoulders and back as our lips meet. We tremble together as we embrace, our tongues dancing together. Then she breaks our kiss and whispers a question in my ear: "Do you know me now?" She then seductively darts her tongue quickly in and out of that ear, sending a chill down my spine and into my hardness.
I ponder her question even as I continue to hold her and we kiss again. I know her, I think, but yet I am so uncertain. She begins to take my shirt off as we continue to caress and kiss. I break the kiss for a moment and gently pull her dress down to run my lips and then my tongue over first one nipple, and then the other. She touches my leg and gently moves her hand up to run her fingers lightly over the bulge between my legs, underneath my pants. This makes me moan.
She whispers again in my ear. "You must be certain. This changes everything. There is no going back." And then she clutches my now-harder cock through my pants.
I continue to concentrate on her nipples, pulling at them gently and rolling them between my fingers. I use my thumbs to rub the tips in slow circles. Her head falls back, and her breath becomes to come in steamy gasps. She pushes herself against me and we fall back on the couch. She is atop me, and pressing against my groin. There is something there that feels unfamiliar, but I am too aroused to think any more about it. Instead, I concentrate on her beautiful tits for a while as she kisses my neck and fumbles to get my pants open despite being on top of me. Soon, though, I leave my mouth and one hand to concentrate on one nipple while I move my other hand down to help her. Along the way, I rub and caress every inch of her I can reach, and I feel a bulge like mine on her.
Now she is moaning, and she moves her legs and opens her thighs. Together, we sit up, while in an embrace. I pull away and she remains on the couch, seated. She is so beautiful. She looks like no woman I have ever seen before. No picture I have looked at comes close. And yet, her beauty is completely unconventional. IIt is not that of a supermodel, or the girl next door, or does it fall into any of the other typical categories society has set before us. Her beauty is unique. I sense something of myself in her beauty, as if we share something that creates an inner beauty only I can comprehend. I wonder whether what I see on the outside of her is unique to my mind's eye. I wonder whether any other guy would see her beauty the way I am seeing it, or even see it as beauty. But I don't care. Here she is.