I met him on an MMO game. Bear in mind, this is an anonymous game. We all had user IDs, all had fake cartoon avatars. Nobody knew what anybody looked like.

I'm Sabrina. I'm twenty-nine, five foot seven and have layered blonde hair with highlights and baby blue eyes. I have a smile that could outshine the sun (or so I've been told). I've got a twenty-six inch waist and 36DD breasts. I call it my 'margarita figure'—all top heavy.

Anyway, this is how I met my game lover.

At first, Alex was the most annoying member of our group—always barking orders, taking over when shit wasn't done exactly to his specifications. The others openly admired him. He was charming, kind, and even generous... on occasion, when it suited his purpose. It drove me crazy. I figured it was a ruse to take over the group. He was definitely the most dominant male we had. So, of course, he took over.

We argued almost constantly back and forth by private message. I fought with him over everything. He wasn't going to make me grovel at his feet for mere scraps like the rest of these idiots were doing. I was a leader in my own right, and I refused to cower to him.

What started out as arguing, eventually became mutual respect. We each had our divisions we were in charge of, but often we'd pick each other's head for ideas to fix the problem we faced. Soon the divisions were blurred as we talked about everything, from game life to real life, to hopes and dreams.

Somewhere along the way, I developed a crush on my as yet unseen leader. To be honest, I was expecting some short fat guy living in his mother's basement, but it didn't matter. I was crushing on this made up image in my own head.

I'd masturbate to this image of a larger than life, dominant man who had consumed my gaming life, and real life, if I were honest.

In the midst of our chats, he mentioned a landmark I recognized, not even fifteen minutes from my home. Boy, was I shocked. Turns out, in this worldwide game, I wasn't thirty minutes from him, and my crushing thoughts headed straight for the gutter. If he looked anything like the image I'd built up in my head...

I started flirting hard with him. He stopped me and said he was married with three kids. (Yay! Not short and plump, living off of mom.) I blew it off—considering the amount of time he put in to the game, he couldn't be very happy at home. So I took it a bit further.

I described my pyjamas one morning—very loose booty shorts, no panties, no bra and a skimpy spaghetti strap tank—and mentioned how hot it had been the night before and how I'd thrown off my sheets and let my fan cool off my body even as it blew up my shorts to awaken my moist clit. I asked him what he thought of my pyjamas. He messaged me his number and said, "Let me see." Oh, what a response I got: a picture back of the thick hard-on bulging in his pants.

After months of crushing on him, fantasizing about him, I begged him for a pic of his face. Hey, he had to look alright if I was going to imagine him eating my aching pussy. I dropped my phone when I got his reply. He had dark, almost black, slightly wavy but short cropped hair, high cheekbones, chiseled jaw, and just a hint of scruff from preshaven morning.

It's official—I'm in complete lust. I'm going to have have his perfect face between my legs soon. And my pussy lips throb in anticipation.