Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32


Thank you for editing for me MrSilence.

Also, thank you to Imstillfun for giving me inspiration to actually do something more. I would so love to have your husband’s hands on my body with you under me, and me kissing on your neck.


I read his profile, and I couldn’t believe it. Nothing written in the paragraphs had red flags screaming “Move On!” That’s what bothered me. His picture was normal, and it just seemed like he didn’t spend a lot of time online.

As the divorced mother of two kids, I had to be careful. In fact I shouldn’t have been on this adult dating site to begin with, but it intrigued me. I knew most of it was bullshit. I was outnumbered a hundred guys to my one. At 37 I just wanted a little excitement without having to leave the confines of my home.

I felt like I was attractive to men. The pressures of just getting the kids to school on time while working a full time job left very little free time except when I put my little buggers to bed. After 9pm was the only time I felt like I could relax.

I tried reading books for a while since watching TV would wake them up. All my favorites shows always resulted in the female getting nailed by the male in the story eventually. The shows had me thinking of sex.

At first, it was just reading sex stories on sites, and then masturbating after I read them. The lack of actual physical touch drove me to this adult site. For some reason I became intrigued with discovering the person behind the words. Most of these guys were just lonely and desperate. The better looking guys were pursued by a lot of women on this site. Yet, I wanted something better than just a good looking guy.

I wasn’t looking for love, well I guess sex eventually. I wanted to be fed sex in small spoonful’s until I was sated, not a whole roast shoved down my throat.

I ran my right hand through my long blond hair rereading his profile. Not seeing a picture of his face was the deciding factor for my next step. He had a picture of his muscled back looking away from the camera. I needed a face picture, if for nothing more than just to dream about him. He was probably a complete slime-ball. That would be easy enough to tell after just a few minutes of online chatting. Only one problem, he didn’t login to chat very often.

Until tonight that is. His profile showed that he was online after re-reading a few lines of his profile again.

I felt like a slut when I clicked the chat button. My excited nipples on my C cup breasts were clearly visible through the beige material of my nightgown. I hated my body at that moment. I had to take a deep breath just to calm my anxiety to type the word “Hi” and hit enter.

I did hit enter though.

The return “Hi” I was expecting didn’t return. Instead I got a whole sentence that just confused me.

Him: “Give me a minute. I am trying to save the world, but after I do, we can talk for a little bit.”

I looked at my clock on my PC and waited until it advanced one whole minute. Did his minute mean one more minute after the clock changed I wondered. I was tempted to log off, but before my clock changed, he sent another line of text to me.

Him: “Ok, I am back. I had an emergency that required immediate attention or the fate of the free world would have been at risk.”

This guy gave me such interesting things to ask. I was stunned.

Me: “So you think you are important enough to save the free world?”

Him: “I think most people are important. Me, I am just a guy making a decision so you can talk on your cell phone tomorrow at a coffee shop.”

Me: “I don’t drink coffee.”

Him: “I don’t either, so if you are offering one of those to me, my face will get all weird.”

I know I was fishing for some kind of conversation tid-bits, but this guy was giving me a whole loaf of bread instead of crumbs to pick through. I decided to be blunt with him.

Me: “Can you send me a picture of your face?”

Him: “No problem, but be aware I just took it yesterday.”

A photo showed up in my inbox. I immediately opened it. I laughed. Ok, it was a human face.

The only problem with the picture was the additions he added to it. He had obviously doctored the picture by adding an eye patch, a bandana, a fake ear ring, and blacked out a tooth and gave himself some scars. All in all, it was a drawing of a pirate over the original photo.

I was still digesting the thing when another photo showed up in my inbox. I opened it, and it was a normal face except him sticking his tongue out and the caption read, “Me tonight.”

Me: “LOL”

Him: “Oh, you think tongue action is funny. I will have you know it was difficult to hold that pose as I was laughing. I deserve an Oscar for my effort.”

Me: “You are funny.”

Him: “Are you talking about the pictures or my response?”

Me: “All of it.”

Him: “It’s a gift. Next time you laugh it will cost you.”

Me: “Really, and what would it cost me?”

Him: “A picture of your hand.” public agent porno

Huh? That makes no sense.

Me: “Why my hand?”

Him: “So I can look into your soul before you get me into bed. ”

My mind was doing flip flops. Now I was thinking of getting him into bed just because of the mysteriousness of the request. He wasn’t asking for anything difficult. It just seemed more intimate. It took me out of my comfort zone.

I took a picture of my left hand and sent it to him. I gave him a few moments since I got no response immediately. For some reason him making me wait added more interest for me in the guy.

After I sent the thing I realized I had not waited to see if he could make me laugh again. Was I rushing this thing?

Me: “Well?”

Him: “How long have you been lonely?”

Me: “I am not lonely. What do you see?”

Him: “I see someone that is on the verge of a breakdown. She has been stressed out for a while. She hasn’t laughed in a long time because of responsibilities that keep her tied to one place. She has a gentle hand, like a mother. Yet her nails are cut short like she has to work a lot to make ends meet. ”

I was absorbing what he was telling. It was scaring me.

Me: “I work a lot, just like everyone else.”

Him: “Maybe you do, but did you know that Austin is the Capitol of Texas?”

Me: “Yes, but what does that have to do with…” I started to type. The jerk was faster than me and he kept going.

Him: “I can see the capitol building from my window right now. For some reason this view of the building makes the whole apartment worth the expense of living near downtown. The layout sucks, and the kitchen sink is too small for even one person; but the view of that magnificent building at night is calming to me. The mixture of the lighting and the contours of the building look beautiful to me.”

I imagined it. Almost like a movie in my head as I looked out of a hypothetical tiny apartment and saw the building view in my mind. The stupid thing was only a few miles away, but I couldn’t see it from my location, but his words took me there to his observation point.

Him: “Can you picture it in your mind?”

Me: “Yes, I can.” I finally typed.

Him: “Well, have a good night. I have to wake up early so I am logging off.”

Me: “Thank you, good night.”

His online status showed offline a heartbeat later.

In a daze I checked on my kids still sleeping in their beds. I felt calm, at peace. In my mind the kids were safe. Tomorrow I knew I would have to work, but the mind-view of the capitol building took some of the extra tenseness out of me.

I fell asleep moments after reaching my own bed.

The next day, all the stresses of the day had me wound up again to the point I knew I couldn’t sleep.

I wasn’t going to check on him, but I did anyway. He was offline. I reread his profile for the tenth time. I looked at that pirate face picture a hundred times. It was a happy face. His features showed sincere expressions and after our chat, a dreamer kind of face.

It was difficult to fall asleep. I eventually did after I laughed at that pirate picture he had sent me.

The next day the stress of work was much worse. The kids were terrors. All three of us were crying by the time I had them in bed. I took a bath to calm down. The bed beckoned, but even after the bath I wanted to escape my life. Instead of bed I logged on just to check his status.

He was online. My fingers typed out a greeting without even thinking “Hey there.”

Him: “Oh, you ‘re back. Let me tell the other girls I am busy so I can put you to bed proper.”

Me: “ok”

I stared the clock on my computer. Other girls? It didn’t even take a whole minute when he texted back. He talks to other girls? It bothered me that he did.

Him: “So I finally read your profile. I have some edits to update it a little bit but overall it has potential.”

Me: “Potential? I worked hard on that profile.”

Him: “You spent maybe ten minutes on it. I could tell you were nervous writing it. It comes out.”

His judgment made me mad even if it was completely true.

Me: “What are your fucking edits then?” I typed.

A file showed in my inbox. I wish it had come by snail mail so I could feel the pleasure of ripping it open.

He had highlighted his two changes to my profile. He deleted the duplicate “the” that I was unaware of and changed the misspelled word “impowered” to “empowered”.

Yet, something wasn’t right. I read my own profile online and I didn’t have the extra word or the misspelling. It must be a joke. He purposely made it look like he was correcting something that did not need correcting. What does it mean?

Me: “Hey, why did you that?”

Him: “Because I found it funny.”

Me: “So you think I am a joke?”

Him: “I don’t know you. Reading your profile, I was annoyed on how perfect it was. It didn’t tell me anything any reality kings porno other woman would tell me. Yet, I know your favorite food and color.”

Me: “Why do you care?”

Him: “I don’t care about most people, yet.”

Was this a test? For some reason I felt a connection to him already. Not because we shared anything of value, but the range of emotions he had already put me through. It made no sense to me.

Like a crack addict, I had to have more.

Me: “Well, I have two kids I care about.”

That should scare him away.

Him: “We can talk about your kids, but I am a stranger. I think it would be a little creepy. How about you start by asking questions you really care about like… What’s your job? Are you really single? Why are you on this site? Do you really have a big dick?”

I laughed. He didn’t say what size his dick was in his profile. His penis size was omitted completely in his profile. I knew, I had read the thing a lot.

Me: “Yea … I want those questions answered especially the last one.”

Him: “I argue with idiots for a living. I am married with a hundred kids. I can pretend to be something that I am not. Finally, my dick is about three inches long.”

Me: “Am I one of those idiots?”

Him: “I don’t know you. I can’t call you an idiot, yet.”

Me: “But will you eventually?”

Him: “haha … you are baiting me. That is so cute.”

Me: “So, the second answer can’t be true.”

Him: “Well, it’s not true. I told the truth on my profile as far as I knew; it was more fun for me to make things up after the first sentence I wrote.”

Me: “You never mentioned your dick in your profile. Is that true or not?”

Him: “I accept.”

Me: “You accept what?”

Him: “That you want to bed me. If the kids are asleep, how about I come over to show you firsthand.”

Me: “I don’t know you.”

Him: “I’ll scan my license so you can do a background check on me online while I drive to you.”

I thought for a moment. Was that safe? I felt my insides turn to mush. I wanted to touch and be touched back. So fuck it.

Me : “Ok, but I won’t send you my address until after I check you out.”

Him: “That seems like an even smarter change. I can live with that. Give me a minute.”

It took a very short time, but a scanned image did show up. He had blacked out the number on it, but the picture looked slightly younger in the photo than the ones he had given me earlier. His face was very masculine in the photo and serious. Yet his eyes sold me. He trusted me. I searched via the web. His address was online and he owned a house near me, not an apartment. Was that a red flag?

He said apartment earlier. Was he staying in someone’s house? Had they sub-leased to him? One thing I was good at was checking the tax records. Several properties came up under his name specifically. One was an apartment downtown. His legal status showed married though, yet there was no public record of a divorce from his wife. He had to be married. It was too good to be true that he wasn’t married. It had to be a warning sign.

I searched his wife’s name.

Several news articles came up first. All of which told a story of a female two years older than me dying in a car crash with her two kids. I felt sick. Her death was two years ago.

Me: “You are a widower?”

Him: “Damn it, you were not supposed to know until the second date.”

Me: “You listed single on your profile.”

Him: “I am. But I do date now, which includes having sex with women that I chat with.”

I typed out my address and cell number and hit enter. I guess I was just going to listen to him cry about his late wife. It didn’t seem fair.

Me: “My kids are asleep. Text me when you get here. If you knock or ring the bell it will wake them up. We can talk in my bedroom when you do.”

Him: “No problem, it will be only ten minutes. I didn’t know you were so close to my current location.”

Me: “See you soon then. I am logging off.”

Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! I really did it. I invited a guy over to the house. Would he understand I wanted to be ravished when he got here and not just talked to? If he whined about being lonely and needing sex it would kill the mood. Damn, it barely gave me enough time to brush my teeth and hair.

I checked on the kids. They were asleep, thank goodness. My cell started vibrating before I had time to change. Shit! Shit! Shit! I was still in my grannie nightgown. I had to open the door in haste. I didn’t want the neighborhood to see a stranger at my doorstep.

I opened the door, and stared.

He was taller than me. He really was fucking six feet tall just like his profile.

He looked exactly like his pictures. I couldn’t find any differences. That made me angry. I was expecting some lie. There had to be something. My heart raced and I felt stupid when he whispered his next words.

“Good evening, may I come in?”

His deep tonal rus porno quality sent chills up my spine. He was all man. His clothes were a simple blue t-shirt and brown shorts. No belly showed, which surprised the hell out of me for a guy his age.

I nodded stepping back inside.

He followed, closed the door, and locked it.

The action seemed to change something inside me. Wasn’t I supposed to lock the door?

He turned to me, stepped closer, and with a finger lifted my chin so we could stare into each other’s eyes in the dim light. The time he stared into my eyes made me feel both warm and scared at the same time.

His blue green eyes looked intense. I felt this overwhelming attraction to the guy.

His face was one of sincerity, with a shadow of a mustache and beard. It was like he didn’t shave today. Some wrinkles around his eyes, but his mouth was happy. It made his eyes even more attractive. Please say something I yelled in my head.

As if I was in a movie, he bent his head and kissed me lightly on the lips.

My knees trembled. I didn’t know if it was fear or excitement. His breath was minty, his lips warm.

Part of my brain said this can’t be happening. The other part was jumping for joy.

There had to be some transition, but I could not remember the how or why of it. My arms were wrapping around him, pulling him closer. He hugged me in return placing his hands around my waist I could feel heat off his body despite the chill of his clothes. It had been so long since I had felt this kind of manly presence pressed against me.

Then he started kissing down my neck. I could smell my own excitement as his lips touched below my ear lobe, down my neck on its way down to the collar of my nightgown.

I pulled his face up, pushing him slightly away. I pulled his t-shirt off his body. I just wanted to see his chest. His smile got bigger. He let me touch his chest which had some hair in the middle and around his nipples. My fingers grazed over his chest. His stomach was flat, but not a body builder type. The added hair gave a more masculine appearance.

He had large strong arms and hands. On those appendages I could clearly see definition of the muscles. It escalated my interest in seeing the rest of him.

He moved his hands up to my shoulders. I was a little hesitant about his sudden movements but he just touched the straps on my nightgown. It appeared harmless, until he used them to pull my nightgown off my body. The material easily slipped up and off. I could feel my hair creating static electricity as the material whisked past. Shit! Shit! Shit!

My mind screamed silently. Oh no, my hair is a mess now. What is he thinking of my messed up hair?

Oh wait, I have nothing on but my panties. Why the fuck am I thinking of my hair? He threw the nightgown behind me. I watched its flight path to the couch almost twenty feet away.

I whipped my head back to him when he bent down and started kissing around my tits. The scratchiness of his face against my smooth skin was such an awesome dynamic.

I wanted more. He spent so much time around my neck and chest I thought I might have to encourage him.

Without warning, I got more attention when he turned us around and pressed my back against the door as if in a dance. I felt a trembling between my thighs as I moved my hands through his short hair as he bent down.

My mind kept asking, what is he doing next? His hands answered by exploring my body as his lips got closer and closer to my nipples. Then he licked my left nipple. Drawing it in to suck on it. I felt so horny. God, this man was good.

“More.” I said.

I felt his other hand start to pull my panties down. I helped him by pushing down on the other side. This was going to be good. I finally stepped out of them fully exposed to his short clad self.

I wanted him naked. He needed to be as naked as me. “Take off your shorts.” I said.

He ignored me and pressed his fingers to my pussy. I imagined my blond bush acting like a runway for his dick. I had to have his dick. I got a finger inserted inside me instead.

His digit took me over the top. Jesus, I came. My whole body wracked. This never happened to me before like this. He held me up against the door as the waves of pleasures took over. I had to bite my lip from crying out and waking the kids. When my hands stopped holding his ears, he pulled away from me picking up his shirt off the ground.

I just stared at him as he put it on.

My mind was cloudy from my orgasm.

He unlocked my door and then opened it.

“Lock the door when I leave and go to bed. This was fun.” He said.

Huh? I wobbled around as the door opened wider and he left through it.

I locked the door looking at it confused. Sexually I was content, exhausted even. I grabbed my nightgown on my way to the bedroom donning it. The kids had not even stirred.

I got into bed, and just closed my eyes. I fell asleep instantly.

Chapter Two

The next day everything seemed better. I felt less stress from everything. Nothing at my job bothered me. The kids seemed even more content than normal.

I didn’t log on. I didn’t want to see him not be online. I wanted his dick, not chit chat. Yea, I know I couldn’t have one without the other.

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32