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What if you do meet up with someone you have met online - especially when storylines arr involved!
sexual fantasy, teasing, what if, power over men


I am sitting here on the bed looking at the screen on my PC. I am looking and smiling at a sexy woman that I have just met on a sexy writing site.

I only joined to write stories, honestly.

However, I met someone and became friendly with her just through writing stories. I asked her about a fantasy and could I write it for her. She said yes, I think she was flattered but I still don’t know that for sure.

It was fun, the story telling was fun and after that we started to send emails. It was good to speak to someone on a sexual level, if you can call emails speaking! We talked naughty, sometimes a little dirty, always frank. I think we connected. She liked the kind of stories I wrote involving her and I actually liked the ones she wrote too. They were raunchy and wild and they took me back to time of sexual abandon.

Would we ever meet up? probably not! There was a small thing called the Atlantic Ocean in between us and a good few miles of land after that. That’s nothing, I hear you say, when we have air travel. Of course you’re right as well. But being married, happily married at that, is more than a barrier to air travel.

Or is it!

Would we ever meet up? I would say to her that I would, if it were just for coffee, but you know, would it ever be just for coffee. You kind of know in your mind it won’t be. So does that mean you will never meet up?

You know you want to fuck her just like you have in the stories, and just like she has in the stories that she has written. You know you want to slip your cock into her arse while she’s looking over her shoulder at you and smiling! You know that you want to stick your tongue right inside her pussy and lick her, taste her and make her cum as you watch her contorted face as she orgasms! You know that you want to slip your cock into her young body so far that it makes her scream with pleasure and that you want to watch as she raises her arse off the bed so you can get it in even deeper. You just know - all these things!

You know you want to do all of that and more. As I look at her pictures and read and re-read the stories she has written. I wonder.

I type away, my fingers tapping out the next story that I hope she will enjoy. I like writing the stories, they fuel my imagination; or have I got that wrong. Perhaps my imagination fuels the stories. I like people saying that they thought the story was great and that it was erotic or horny or dirty. I like the feedback. Anyway, I digress.

So, what would I actually do if we were ever to meet? I know I would be in turmoil, even if it was just for coffee.

I would know that she wouldn’t have a pair of knickers on underneath her red dress, or whatever colour dress or skirt she had on. I would know that I would want to put my hand up under her skirt and feel her arse and then let my fingers caress round to her pussy, even in public. Would she let me do that? I don’t really know, but I know I would like to try! I breath heavily just thinking about it as I write this.

I think we would certainly tease each other senseless. The thing is, could I take the teasing or the sexual innuendos. I imagine her looking at me in the same way as the woman in my stories looks at me. Would she lick her red lips and roll her tongue around them. Would she tease me with her come-to-bed eyes and would she bend over in some shop and let me see her bare pussy and stocking tops.

I would certainly be in some turmoil if that happened.

Would she wander into some sexy store and pick up the skimpiest garment to try it on and then encourage and entice me to enter the changing room booth so that I could see what it looked like on her.

Turmoil indeed. I guess my heart would stop at that moment, especially if she pulled the g-string garment between her pussy lips and smiled.

What would really happen if I entered an hotel room with her. Would I live, or would she eat me alive.

One of the biggest problems I have, is wondering whether the sex would be as good as one could write it. Definitely not, I would say, but who knows. You don’t know unless you try, do you! The dynamism of the two of you meeting could be unprecedented. We could find ourselves so hot for each others sex that it would be a fuck frenzy, a continuous and endless dance of mouth to cock, mouth to pussy, mouth to mouth, cock to pussy, mouth to breast, hand pumping cock, fingers up pussy, mouth sucking balls and finally cock firmly up arse! Culminating in a spray of spunk all over her gorgeous body (sorry, but that last part was imagination). The dance interrupted by several orgasms on her part and probably one on mine. I think I would need Viagra if that were to happen.

The big question is of course, would she act like she says she acts. Would she be that submissive? Would she exhibit the lewd and erotic poses that she paints in her stories? and would she really bend over and offer her arse to be fucked? Would she cum as I fucked her arse? Too many questions to be asked all at once.

I have fucked someone up the arse before, so the idea is not really a driving force for me. Yes I find the eroticism of sliding up someone’s arse to be very mind-blowing, especially as that someone lays flat on their stomach and you have a hand on their clit as well, bringing her off to her orgasm while your cock is firmly entrenched and pumping into her.

What about her attire? Would she still be wearing her stockings and corset? What about the high heels? Would they still be on or discarded somewhere about the hotel room?

What about me, where would my boring shirt, trousers, socks and shoes be.

I think us men are putty in the hands of women who know what they want. They don’t need to be domineering, they just need to be firm and fun. When they act sexily and play with our minds, the one between our legs that is, they have us in the palm of their hands.

Would she be firm with me? Would she order me to lick her as she propped herself up on pillows or sat on the edge of a chair and looked down at me? Would she smirk and grin as she watched me lick and suck her pussy? And would she put her hand behind my head and force my mouth into her cunt. I hope she would! Would she sit on my face, on the bed and look down onto me, smiling as her orgasm washed over her? Again, I hope she would.

In fact, now that I think of it, how many orgasms would she have? None would be embarrassing. I know how many I would like her to have, and that would be as many as she possibly could. I love giving women orgasms, I just love the feeling that something of mine is either gently and erotically flicking at a part of their anatomy that goes wild and they are fucking loving it or penetrating them and fucking into them with increase speed in order to bring them off. What I don’t like is having an orgasm myself. I prefer to keep my cock hard. I like my cock when it’s hard and erect, not so, when its wilting.

What about afterwards? What do you do then? After abandoning yourselves to a sexual orgy for two. After you called her a slut or bitch and fucked her and after she has forced you to lick pussy while she gyrated her hips all over your mouth. After you have positioned her against the wall of the hotel room and spanked her arse before shoving your cock right inside her. After you both ripped the shirts from each other’s body. What then?

Even when you get over the embarrassment of actually stopping to breath. How do you then part company? How do you say your goodbye’s knowing that all you want to do is sink your cock back into her.

Do you both smile, awkwardly and just walk away! Do you promise to meet up again, Vera Lynn style! You hear the words echo in your mind. “We‘ll meet again, don’t know where, don‘t know when…but I know we‘ll meet again, some sun-ny day!”

Of course all that could change if she ever saw me. She does find herself at a disadvantage, she has not seen pictures of me at all, yet I have seen pictures of her. But then I find myself asking - does she care what I look like when my mind is that dirty!

And what of the guilt afterwards? How does one cope with that.


My mind is in plain and utter turmoil!

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