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Need A Hand?

Need A Hand?

The ticking of the clock was clear and distinct in the café, like the torturous dripping of a tap. The sound of rattling dishes being clumsily loaded into the dishwasher was but a murmur on the wind compared to the brutal tick that indicated each passing second. Cal’s heart beat to the rhythm, only twice as fast, with his eyes fixed firmly on the door. The coffee before him grew cold as he continually stirred it with a slow, unfaltering pace.

She was late. Not very late, but late. Every passing minute heightened Cal’s worry that she might not show at all. Or would it be a relief? He stared unblinkingly as his leg shook uncontrollably beneath the table. A glimmer of regret at having arranged this meeting flashed through his mind; this was outside his comfort zone, but it was too late now. She would be here soon—he clung to that belief, for better or worse.

His favourite café was not busy—empty but for him, the new waitress and an old woman, sipping on tea over The Herald. Perhaps he would rather it had been busy, so that they could be less conspicuous, but then that would increase the likelihood of meeting someone he knew. That would be less than desirable. They should have arranged to meet somewhere nicer than the greasy spoon around the corner, but it had been a snap decision, made out of excitement and nervousness.

Looking up at the clock that tormented him so, he finally took a sip of his now lukewarm coffee. Twelve minutes. She should definitely have been there by now; he had actually expected her to be there when he arrived. It was hard to believe that she wouldn’t show—this had been her idea, after all. Cal began to wonder if he had just been a gullible fool all along, and that she had never intended to show up. Was he there on a wind-up? Could anyone be so cruel?

The bell above the door signaled her arrival at that moment. Cal looked up expressionlessly to where she stood in the doorway, a vision every bit as breathtaking as he had imagined. Her pictures had not done her justice, although perhaps she had made a special effort for meeting him today. When their eyes met, that glimmer of regret fizzled into darkness—he had few doubts about this meeting any longer. As she advanced towards his table, he took her in, feasting his eyes on her every detail. She was almost at his side before he realised, leg going like a pneumatic drill, that he was actually going to have to speak to this woman from whom he had hidden behind a computer screen for several months now.

He stood to greet her, nudging the table and causing his coffee to spill just a bit. Laughing a little, she looked at him with warm eyes, and he grinned back boyishly, feeling a fool. Was it a hug or a handshake, or a kiss? Cal had no idea what the protocol was for such a meeting; though seeing each other face to face for the first time, they were far from being strangers to one another. Three awkward seconds felt like an hour before she decided for him and pulled their bodies together in a tight hug. Though he knew she would feel the tremble of his hands, Cal placed them on her back, embracing this long-awaited moment.

“It’s nice to finally meet you in person, Cal,” she said as he took her coat. Her voice was low and soft, with a richness that could easily have reduced Cal to a puddle on the floor had he not been concentrating so hard on appearing a proper gentleman.

“And you, Eliza,” he replied, pulling out the chair on the other side of the table for her. “I’m so glad you came. Can I get you a coffee?”

His heart thudded against his chest. He took deep breaths, trying to steady himself, as he waited at the counter to pay for Eliza’s latte and a fresh black coffee for himself. When she had suggested this rendezvous, Cal was full of online bravado and overcome with infatuation. Now that Eliza was there with him, the former had disappeared, making the latter all the more overwhelming. This had all become very real very quickly and, although that was what he had wanted, he had failed to adequately prepare himself for it mentally.

“I’ll bring that over in a minute,” the teenage waitress chirped sweetly as she handed over Cal’s change. Only managing a half nod in response, he shuffled back to his table, keenly aware of Eliza’s eyes on him all the while, and her divine smile. He could hardly believe that she was really there, and that she was really that beautiful.

As he gulped down the last of his room temperature coffee, Eliza silently observed him, seemingly amused. He looked up at her, sure he was blushing, and asked with a forcedly steady voice, “Did you find the place okay?”

“Yes, thank you.” She pushed a strand of hair behind her ear, her gaze never deviating from Cal’s face. Her skin was pale and unblemished, in stunning contrast with her thick, chestnut hair. “Sorry I’m late,” she continued after a second, “I couldn’t find a taxi at the train station.”

Cal had, by this point, completely forgotten that she had been late, so focused was he on mastering his nerves. He sat there with the woman who had for so long occupied his thoughts, feeling like the chess club geek who just scored a date with the prom queen. Not that he was unattractive, but he felt like a positive Quasimodo opposite this enchantingly beautiful Esmerelda. Why she had taken any interest in him was quite beyond Cal, but he had told no lies; they were not meeting under the pretense that he was some tall, athletic stud with biceps the size of grapefruit.

Their drinks arrived, the young waitress giving them a knowing grin. Eliza reached out to grab the handle of her mug and Cal noticed that her hand, too, was shaking. Despite seeming so coolly indifferent, she was perhaps just as nervous about this meeting as he was, Cal now realised. He smiled inwardly at this, feeling more certain that this meant just as much to her as it did to him. It seemed hard to believe when he was the one so clearly punching above his weight.

The wonderful thing about having known each other for several months was the eradication of the usual awkwardness of first meetings. Though they had started off as guarded strangers, each with their own internet facade, time had allowed a true friendship to emerge and two individuals to expose themselves to one another almost completely. Their connection was as deep, Cal reckoned, as any ‘real life’ relationship he had ever had. They knew one another; they had shared their wildest dreams and their darkest fears, and leaned on each other through hardships. They were not strangers, and maybe that made it all the more terrifying to see each other there, corporeal, for that first time.

Though his leg never did stop, Cal managed to hold the conversation with only a handful of audible cracks in his voice. Their discourse was pedestrian and everyday, yet Cal’s mind constantly wandered to thoughts of how their online conversations usually went. He couldn’t help but think of all the things she had said to him, all the things she said she would do to him. His mind whirled with the beautifully sculpted, erotic and graphic descriptions of the deliciously twisted acts of self-pleasuring to which her animal desire for him reportedly drove her.

One such lurid discussion now burned vividly at the forefront of his mind, the virtual memory distracting him from the physical reality. Now, with her voice filling his ears, he could hear the words he had only ever read and discern the intonation. Very clearly did he recall her relating to him the extent of her arousal, her urgency and her need. A smirk curled in the corner of Cal’s mouth, recollecting the then excruciating verbal depiction of the hardness of her nipples, and the wetness of her cunt.

Once she had sufficiently turned him on, Eliza began to give an explicit, blow by blow account of all the things she “had to do” to herself in his physical absence. Cal had literally let out a low, grumbling moan as he sat alone in his flat, gazing at the screen with his tongue lolling out and one hand unconsciously massaging the fast-growing bulge in his shorts. Her words were perfect; he could imagine it all so clearly that she may as well have sent him a video. Every touch, every sensation, was conveyed in sublime detail, from the mouthwatering viscosity of the evidence of his effect on her, to the tantalising pulse sent through her body by the gentle stroke of an index finger on her inner walls.

“Cal?” It took a second for the sound of his name to register. He looked up into the chocolate eyes of the woman who had uttered it, and she continued, “You haven’t said anything for a few minutes; is everything okay?”

He could feel his cheeks redden as he realised that, in reliving unforgettable online moments with Eliza, he was neglecting to savour these preciously rare ones with the woman herself. “Yes, I’m wonderful,” he replied hastily, beaming through his blush. “I was just… thinking. Sorry.”

Cal could see the worry in her eyes; she must have thought that she was boring him, or that he was having second thoughts about their date. Nothing could be further from the truth. Every instant he spent in her company, a new butterfly was released in his stomach, and the shadows of doubt and fear that remained gradually disappeared. He was overjoyed to have her there, within touching distance—oh, how he wanted to touch her—the lilt of her voice filling him with a warming sense of gladness. Resolving to give the physical Eliza his absolute attention from that point, he smiled, and apologised again.

It was at this point that Cal became aware of the erection that had sprung from his erotic daydreaming. It pushed up against his jeans, starting to become uncomfortable, and he tried to subtly maneuver the lower half of his body to shift his zealous penis into a less irritating position. The result, however, was some mild stimulation from the friction with his undergarments and a new, almost painful position. He let his hand slip under the table surreptitiously to quickly rearrange things so that it was tucked up through his waistband and peeked out into his overhanging t-shirt, hoping Eliza wouldn’t notice.

As their conversation progressed, he could feel it start to die down, just about retreating back within his boxers. It seemed he was out of the woods, when he felt something brush up against the inside of his right leg—Eliza’s foot, slowly rubbing up and down. Cal stumbled in his speech a little, his voice cracking into nervous laughter as she watched him with an amused smile. “I, uh… What was I saying?” he stammered, his focus stolen by the naked foot inching its way agonisingly slowly up his leg.

“You were telling me about your weekend in Berlin with your work,” she answered indifferently, continuing to tease.

Cal gulped, a bead of sweat trickling down his temple, his erection almost bursting free of his jeans altogether, as her ivory, pedicured foot came into view in his lap, massaging the top of his thigh near his groin. “Ah, yes”—he gasped at the light pressure applied at the top of his scrotum by Eliza’s big toe, causing his penis to bulge against the lower part of his torso—”Berlin.” He couldn’t think straight; his mind was entirely on the magnificent appendage now firmly caressing his swollen shaft. Eliza held her cool expression, the only giveaway the near imperceptible widening of her eyes.

Silence reigned for a minute, maybe more, only punctuated by Cal’s low, ragged breathing. Words would not come, though if she did not let up, he just might. Their eyes were locked on each other, sharing this intensely naughty moment. He had never had any kind of sexual contact in public with anyone before, and he was glad it was Eliza with whom he was sharing this new frisson of excitement. The table being uncovered, it would be possible to see everything, from the right angle.

It was Eliza that broke the tense stillness of the moment, asking Cal, “What do you have on for the rest of the day?” Though she tried to make it sound like an innocent inquiry, her voice and foot were telling of an ulterior motive. By now her toes had crept up under Cal’s shirt and were adeptly toying with his exposed, moistened glans, making him clutch the table and bite down hard on his bottom lip to stop him from letting slip any of the obscenities that danced through his mind.

“I’m free all day,” he managed to gasp, his deep blue eyes bulging at her.

“Good,” she replied, lowering her foot and smiling smugly at Cal’s expression of disappointed relief, “Why don’t we go for a walk?”

“Okay.” He wiped the thin sheen of sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. “I just need to use the toilet first.” Eliza sat back in her seat in reply, sipping the remnants of her coffee and observing him as he trotted off to the lavatory, trying to subtly conceal his throbbing erection.

He stood at the trough urinal, unbuckled his belt and, with a heavy sigh of relief, released his aching member from its confines. Pre-ejaculate was still oozing out and a clear, heavy dollop landed noisily on the cool steel. Gripping his shaft in his hand and painfully forcing it down until it was perpendicular to his body, he began to urinate. After a few seconds of getting the erratic stream under control, he closed his eyes and let his tense shoulders relax. He could feel his pulse still racing, an effect Eliza had had on him not for the first time.

This was not how he had envisaged their meeting going, though he might have hoped it. Understandably, there was an immense amount of sexual energy flowing between him and Eliza, but he had rather feared that they had both talked such a good game online that their interaction in the physical world would seem flat by comparison. It seemed, though, that at least she was ready and willing to live up to those computer screen promises, and he was fairly certain that he was, too, despite his current overwhelming nervousness.

With a final shake, he tucked his erection, which showed no signs of letting up, back into his underwear, leaving his jeans and belt undone as he went to the washbasin. There was no mirror, but he was certain his face was flushed red still. As he splashed some water on himself, he heard the door creak open, though he could not remember seeing another man in the café. He grabbed a handful of paper towels to dry his hands and face, and suddenly he felt a presence behind him, breathing on his neck. Before he could turn, a hand had reached around and pushed its way into his boxer shorts, wrapping around the thick pole it found there.

“Need a hand?” Eliza’s sultry voice caused Cal’s knees to weaken just for a moment. She stroked him a few times, her body so close to his. He could feel her breasts pressing urgently against his back and, without even realising it, a low moan escaped his lips and echoed through the small room. His hand curled into a fist around the paper towels as a firm kiss landed on his jaw and Eliza dragged her long nails slowly along his length. He could feel her smile on him, wicked and sublime. The delightfully painful nip of her teeth on his earlobe told him this was no dream.

Eliza pulled his cock out from his underwear again, edging his jeans down just enough to make him blush at exposing to her his hairy arse. All five fingers held firm onto his glans, consequently giving her complete control of him, and there was no expletive grand enough to express the intense pleasure Cal derived from the feel of her five glossy red nails digging all at once into his bulbous head. He could feel seminal fluid leaking profusely down to his balls, leaving glistening streaks down the length of his cock.

Turning his head, he caught Eliza’s lips and they stumbled together in a frenziedly passionate kiss, her hand never leaving his rigid tool. No first kiss had ever felt so natural to Cal, nor so right. Their tongues pushed and slid against one another, delving ever deeper into the other’s mouth and drawing Cal and Eliza tightly together in that awkward position. They crashed into the toilet stall a few feet behind and Cal broke free of her grasp, turning with a fierce look in his eyes as he walked her in. His erection stood proud before him, prodding Eliza’s abdomen as he loudly slammed shut and locked the cubicle door. She grabbed it again, pumping it with both hands, her eyes never leaving his.

Cal knew he had to live up to the character he had portrayed himself as online; he wanted to be that character. There was no place for his nervous, polite, lacking initiative side here—she wanted the confident, sexy side of him they both knew resided somewhere within him. Grabbing the back of Eliza’s head and a fistful of hair, he backed her against one of the walls and ravaged her mouth as he had longed to do. She moaned in approval at this forceful move, stroking faster while rolling the palm of her hand over the head. Ordinarily Cal would have come already at such stimulation, but the unprecedented adrenaline coursing through his body could have kept him going for hours, had he needed to.

With both hands he yanked up her skirt, bunching it around her waist. He felt the sheer lace panties with his thick fingers, discerning the small damp spot that was the manifestation of her arousal. Pressing firmly against her veiled entrance, he massaged her pussy until her lips parted and her underwear sank inside, drenching them and Cal’s fingers. Eliza’s eyes opened wide in delight, gasping through their kiss and squeezing hard on his cock.

Digging two fingers into her, he curled them around the soaking panties and pulled them out, pushing them to one side. Cal loved the feeling of her moist warmth, so much better than he ever dreamed it. Her perfect labia were smooth like fine silk, welcoming the invasion, and her muscles contracted around him, not wishing his departure. Their hot breath mingled in the air between them as they stared fervidly at one another, their foreheads touching. Hooking his middle finger deeply into her, Cal cupped her pussy and lifted Eliza onto the tips of her toes.

The noise she made at that moment was utterly indescribable, but it was encouraging. Regaining her lost grip on Cal’s shaft, Eliza breathed the words, “Oh, Cal,” into his mouth, her tongue quickly following them. She jacked him faster and faster, furiously urging him to deliver unto her the glorious climax she now so craved by quickening the onset of his own. Their bodies clung to each other in that hot, sweaty, sex-filled cubicle and Cal’s head swum in the haze, only anchored in the beautiful woman before him.

He began to fuck her with his finger, slamming knuckle deep time after time. The palm of his hand slapped against her with each insertion, lifting her off the ground a few times while he supported her with his other unmoving hand on her rounded arse. He shoved another finger into her dripping cunt and simultaneously brought a thumb to bear down on her tantalisingly erect little nub, sending shocks through her body. Swept up in their whirlwind of lust, he didn’t even feel the pain from Eliza’s teeth suddenly clamping down on his lip, but he was acutely aware of the tightening of his balls as she slid her hand up and down his cock with increasing ferocity.

Eliza’s clitoris burned against his thumb as he roughly massaged it, now desperately seeking her release, wanting to inflict unforgettable pleasure. Her breathless whimpers became guttural moans; her telling gasps became urgent yelps. All the while, her hands never ceased to reciprocate, almost racing him to the nirvanic finish line. Both their eyes were closed now as ecstasy reared its magnificently adorned head.

A shudder, a gasp and a high squeal accompanied Eliza’s heart-stopping orgasm. The fingers of one hand tightened around Cal’s cock, slowing their rhythm, while those of the other dug through his shirt into the flesh of his shoulder. Cal felt her go limp and slump into his hands, her head falling back against the plywood wall, and he retracted his thickly coated fingers as he lowered her to stand flat on her feet. Never had he been able to induce such a reaction in a woman; never had he had the confidence to give her what he truly felt she wanted and needed.

The moment of recovery was short-lived as the temporarily drained Eliza refocused on the straining pole in her hand, begging for those final strokes that would repay her debt to him. She delivered, her look now loving while she brushed Cal’s cheek with the back of her still trembling hand. His face contorted and he braced himself against the wall behind Eliza as he spasmed in her hand and unleashed a long, thick spurt up the front of her blouse, one glob landing on her breast and trickling into her cleavage. Subsequent ejaculations were slightly less exuberant, mostly covering her small hand and dripping messily onto their shoes and the floor.

They shared a tender kiss as he softened in her grasp, the sudden silence of the small toilet almost deafening. Stepping back, they grinned desirously at each other, smitten. Cal had no doubt that the entire café must have heard them but could not feel even the slightest hint of regret or embarrassment. Their exit from the establishment, he knew, would be not so much a walk of shame as a ‘stride of pride’, through which he could hold his head high, thinking, “Yeah, I made her squeal like that.”

Their relationship was different now, more real. He was no longer that “cute” guy behind a computer screen who could string a few saucy sentences together, and she was the unattainable goddess he had built her up to be no more. Their reality was more than simply virtual now, and nothing could take them back to the way it was before.

Cal tucked himself back in and started to fasten his jeans, glancing down at the mess they had made of her shirt. He chuckled as he fastened his belt, remarking, “We’ll have to get you out of those clothes.”

Eliza grabbed a fistful of his shirt and dragged him towards her, cutting his chuckle short. Their faces came to within an inch of each other, her fiery eyes penetrating Cal deeply. He gulped, unsure of himself, until she smiled that wicked grin he so loved. “Yes, you do.”
This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

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