It all started when I met her through a contact site. You know that moment when you see someone across a crowded room and you know. In this case, it was a picture in a crowded monitor of thumbnails and I was instantly in lust. Several things drew me to her, the dark hair made her stand out a little from all the blonde women, the dark brown eyes engaged with you but it was her smile that held your attention and made you stare. It was her smile that captured me. I clicked on her image and read her profile and was rewarded with wit and humour and a few more pictures that just hinted at her body type. Yes, lust it was.

We started chatting, through emails at first; each one becoming longer and longer than the previous and also raunchier and raunchier. The contents of the emails were risky but we were finding things out without being confined to social protocol. We were free to explore, both of us in the knowledge that if we upset each other in any way then that would be it and we’d both move on.

Out of the blue, she sent me a story about what she would like to do to me if we were to meet. It was erotic, full of lust, sensuality and teasing. The sex scene was pretty good too and she urged me to send her one back, which I did.

She loved it, and we just fell into a habit of sending stories to each other. Each time they were more erotic, probed a little deeper into our fantasies or were just downright dirty and pornographic. I think we learned a lot about each other.

And yet we have never met. Not even once. We never even spoke on the phone, though I did offer to give my number to her but she refused to accept it. I didn’t know why but I guess we were just playing with each other’s minds and getting off on words, actions and erotica. I have to admit the emails and stories were such a turn on for me especially when she occasionally included a picture of her naked body in the position that she was describing; though it was always out of focus or disguised in some way.

ooOoo

So, I find myself sitting on this train, staring out of the window at the passing countryside while listening to music, bound for London.

Every once in a while I find myself replaying all those stories in my head, one after each other, each one perfect to every word. I am not sure what the woman opposite me is thinking, but sometimes I find myself breathing heavily and I have to make conscious decisions to calm my breathing. I know that on more than one occasion a smile has broken out on my face. I wonder whether I inadvertently voiced my thoughts, and when I look around at the people beside me, I secretly hope that everything was kept inside my head. I just hope I didn’t say anything out loud.

I find that my heart rate more than doubles as the train starts to slow down as it approaches Paddington station. Anxiety sets in. I wonder what she will be wearing? Will she recognise me? Will I recognise her? Then it dawns on me and I wonder what she sounds like. I find myself thinking that perhaps we should have spoken first. Maybe I’ll stay on the train and deny my destiny.

I suddenly realise that this is the moment of truth as the train comes to a halt. I take a deep breath and watch as everyone else gets up out of their seats, almost in unison, pulling coats and bags from the overhead storage to rush off the train and into the underground station for their onward journey.

I stay in my seat, waiting for the hordes of people to vacate the train. I try and calm myself down. I reason with myself that everything will be OK because we have had such great conversations online. What could possibly go wrong?

But that’s part of the problem, isn’t it? Peoples personas online can be so different. I mean, some people are the same no matter what, but others can be braver, more outgoing when there’s no chance of having that face-to-face meeting.

As funny as it sounds, I do hope she’s a normal person. My head fills with all manner of thoughts and I find myself staring into space at the now empty seats opposite me. The silence that surrounds me suddenly snaps me out of my daydream which is my cue to get off the train and meet her.

I slowly get up, grab my bag and throw it over my shoulder. Stepping onto the platform, I walk towards the exit. Is she there? I try and look around for someone that seems familiar, one person in a haystack of people. What chance is there of spotting her, especially in my state; heart beating faster and faster, anxiety sets in, and then another wave of apprehension takes over when I wonder whether she will like me. I can feel that my heart rate is on the verge of fibrillating and then I see someone that may be her, someone that is doing the same as me but is on the other side of the barrier; looking around, searching for a person exiting the platform.

I see her hand shoot into the air and she waves, her eyes look in my direction and I look behind me to make sure no one else is responding. It seems stupid to be so unsure of oneself but at this precise moment, I am. No one around me seems to be responding to her frantic gestures and as I get closer I see that it is her. I can make out some of those beautiful features that made me contact her in the first place and I don’t mean her breasts. I start to walk towards her and a broad smile breaks out on my face. I look down to place the ticket into the machine and before I know it, I’m through the barrier, on her side of the fence.

She seems to be smiling all the time, her head cocks to one side as she watches me walk towards her. I watch as she stuffs her hands into the front pockets of her jeans and wiggles her top half. I wonder what she’s thinking? What is going through her mind right now? I try to be calm and act normal. Fuck, what is normal?

As I approach her I conclude that I can’t be all that bad looking because she’s still smiling. She starts to walk towards me as I navigate a group of youngsters that are rushing to catch their train on an adjacent platform. I guide my bag through the people and follow after it.

I wonder whether she feels as scared as I do, though, looking at her smiling face is very reassuring. I wonder whether the first few verbal moments will match up to our expectations of each other.

She’s certainly matching my expectations. She looks gorgeous in her denim top that buttons up the front, her skin-tight, sun-washed jeans, her sunglasses atop her lovely dark hair and her dark blue shoes.

I feel like I want to run into her arms. Does she want to do the same? I can’t tell. With only six yards to go, her beauty overwhelms me, her eyes implore me to walk faster and her smile takes me by the scruff of my neck and drags me, headlong into her body.

“You look gorgeous,” the words just come out. As soon as I say the words I ask myself where the hell did they come from? Someone else must have said them. A broad smile breaks out on her face.

“You don’t look so bad yourself,” she replies. “Come here.”

She opens her arms and I drop my bag on the floor with only a yard to go, I extend my arms. Her arms wrap around my neck and my arms fold in around her waist and we kiss for the very first time. It’s a peck that develops into a deep hug. Nothing too passionate, no tongues. We pull apart and start chatting, our eyes all over the place, drinking in features we didn’t know existed and complimenting each other with every other word. The obligatory “how was your journey?’ broke the proverbial ice.

We start to move apart and make our way out of the station. I suddenly feel hard done by for I never even squeezed her arse. I had planned on squeezing her arse all the way up the platform, with both hands too.

“Let’s go for that coffee, shall we?” she says, “there’s a Starbucks just around the corner.”

I nod and follow in her footsteps as we head towards the café. It seems strange that we are reduced to polite conversation after all the raunchy emails and stories that we exchanged. Thank God for the weather eh! It then hits me – I like the way she talks, I like her voice, the tone, the pitch and she almost sings the words rather than speaks them. It’s such a relief.

We get to the café and she offers to get the drinks and because I’m still in shock, I let her. I sit down on some comfy leather seats away from the crowds. She joins me and we make even more polite conversation.

“So what shall we do?” she asks.

I start to think and come up with some non-sexual sightseeing ideas but eventually come around to asking her what she would like to do.

“Story four,” she says.

Story four, I think, what the fu-

“Right…got it,” I reply, “Story four, the one where…”

I look around for the toilets, spot them and turn to smile at her.

“You’re not serious are you?” I ask, enthusiastically.

“No, not in there, but if I’m honest, I really can’t wait to get your cock up me,” she says.

At last, the sexual ice has been broken, I am so glad it was her that broke it. I just don’t think I could have said it quite as eloquently as she put it but the suspense was doing my head in. Maybe we are now approaching our new normal.

“Me too,” I reply, leaning into her a little and sliding my hand across her knee and onto her thigh.

“On a scale of one to ten, what’s your wetness value?” I ask, smiling.

“Ten wouldn’t come close,” she replies, “I have changed my knickers twice already, once before I left home to meet you and once in the station toilets.” She dips into her bag and shows me a pair of white-coloured panties before stuffing them back in.

“Ah,” I interrupt, “story eight,” I point at her knickers, laughing but with a serious side to the laughter.

She bites her lower lip and nods at me. She takes a sip of her coffee.

“Excuse me a minute, please,” she says, lifting herself from the seat, “your train took ages to get here and I need the loo. I’ll be right back.”

Debbie leaves to go to the loo and I’m left with a smile on my face. She’s everything I expect her to be, flippant, sarcastic, witty, funny, pleasant, sexy and lots more and I know I can’t wait to get to the hotel. It’s only a ten-minute walk away from the station. I sip my coffee and wonder how it will all turn out. At least, now that we had spent some time in each other’s presence, my confidence levels had been given a boost.

Debbie arrives back at the table with a smile on her face. Before sitting she drops her knickers on the table.

“Would you put these in your bag for me, young man,” she says in a posh upper-class accent. It comes out just like I imagine it would in her first story that she sent me, story one.

“They seem to have fallen around my ankles and for the life of me I cannot remember how they fit anymore,” she continues.

I laugh but quickly pick them up and shove them into my bag before anyone notices. Though I notice the wet patch on the gusset and it’s all I can do to stop myself from sniffing them in the café with everyone’s eyes on me.

As I reach for my bag, she grabs my hand and pulls me up from the chair. She is stronger than she looks and as soon as I’m upright her hand slips around my waist, pulling me towards her. Our lips soon lock together, crashing like waves and her tongue forces its way inside. As soon as I realise what sort of kiss it is, my mouth opens and waits for her tongue to caress mine. We stand there for a good minute with our tongues lashing at each other. I half expect the people next to us to tell us to get a room, and fortunately, we already have one booked.

We’re both a little out of breath when we break the kiss.

“Don’t know about you,” she whispers, “but I’m horny as fuck!”

“Hmm, I can’t wait to get inside your knickers,” I reply.

Debbie breaks out in a fit of laughter. I look at her bemused for a good few seconds before I realise where her knickers are. I slowly start to nod my head and join in with her thoughts on that subject.

Both of us seem to have more energy as we leave Starbucks than when we entered; I put it down to something they must have put in the coffee and we walk to the hotel in a sprightly fashion. I check in at the receptionist while Debbie makes her way to the lifts. As I round the corner I can see her checking her hair in the mirror. She smiles as I approach.

“I hope you’re not going to worry about what you look like after?” I question her before taking her arm and leading her into the waiting lift. We deliberately stand apart while the lift ascends. Our eyes lock on each other, each of us trying to second guess what the other is thinking. The atmosphere is electric. I knew what is going through my head and from our email exchanges, I guess that she must be thinking the same.

I let her exit the lift first and I follow her shapely ass to room four-one-four. It isn’t long before we are in another passionate embrace, kissing once more even before the door had a chance to close. We sidle into the room joined at the lips; like a crab walking sideways rather than walking into it as normal people do. I throw my bag on the floor and welcome the fact that at last, my hands are free.

They immediately find the buttons on her blouse and busy themselves in their intricacy.

“Don’t rip them,” she murmurs at me as she kisses my neck. I unbutton them all, pushing her top over her shoulders. Her arms fold back to allow the blouse to drop to the floor and as she does that I unclip her bra for her to repeat the process. She wiggles her arms to free her upper body of clothing and then proceeds to do the same for my shirt which doesn’t take long to remove. I don’t have a chance to glare at her breasts to see how they wobble because neither of us stops kissing and probing each other’s mouths with our tongues, but I feel their wonderful weight against my chest.

She starts to fumble with my belt and buckle while I undo the top button of her blue jeans and unzip them. There isn’t time to take her jeans down, I’m desperate to feel her wet pussy and I thrust my hand down between the blue fabric and her belly and only stop when my hand cups her sex tightly. Fingers stroke along her slit and I smile as the movement is free, helped along by her succulent juices. My fingers slip inside her wet and willing pussy and I relish in the warmth and softness. Wafts of sexual aroma fill my nostrils. Fuck she's wet – and horny.

Debbie finally gets the hang of my belt and buckle and opens the front of my jeans. Like me, her hands delve inside my jeans and pants in one go while I try to remove my shirt, unsuccessfully at first because of one single button which rips in my urgency for flesh-on-flesh contact. Debbie’s hand circles my cock and she squeezes it tightly. My free hand finds her breast, pushing it upwards and fondling it, ready to lower my head on its extended nipple. We break the kiss and Debbie gasps aloud and I swear that her pussy floods my hands with even more sex juice as I suck on her nipple.

She just about frees my cock from my jeans and is frantically rubbing the bulbous head as we start to stumble towards the bed.

She kicks off her lovely blue shoes and I suddenly find that she has fallen a good two inches in height. I bend lower to kiss her and with our mouths connected, our bodies part to allow for the removal of trousers. I use the heels of my feet to remove my shoes and we separate for a few brief moments while we completely remove our jeans and pants.

And here we are – out of the blue as our flesh-coloured bodies start on their journey of rampant behaviour.

When I stand upright I find that my cock stands proud in her tiny hand.

“Oh fuck!” she exclaims, “you have a lovely cock.”

I didn’t need her to say that but I feel proud. Then I see her bare pussy glistening wet with her juices. I walk towards her and we crash our mouths together one more time. My hand comes upon her pussy once again and I push a finger inside it, nearly lifting her off the floor in the process. Debbie breaks the kiss and gasps, while my hand probes her sex. She nuzzles her head on my neck and starts to kiss and nibble at it, all the while telling me how she feels and what my fingers are doing to her. Her body responds by thrusting her lower half in my direction. My other arm wraps around her waist, I lift her some more and push two fingers right into her juicy cunt.

“Fuckit, yeah, fuckit,” she gasps out the words while thrusting her pussy into my hand, her gaze directed downward so that she can see my fingers enter her.

I can feel my cock prod against her thigh and belly. I want to push it into her but I also want her to suck it. I want everything all at once. I want to perform all the stories that we have shared, all at once. An impossible task indeed. I end up spinning us around as I extract my fingers from her. I watch as she falls onto the bed in a curved arc and before I know it, she recovers and is sitting upright and making her way to the centre; pushing herself backwards using her hands and legs which are opening of their own accord. I turn to watch her with my cock jutting in front of me. Rampant and needy.

“In me. In me, now,” she pleads.

I crawl onto the bed and between her open thighs. I nestle between them and suck on each nipple in turn before aiming my cock in the general direction of her cunt. It feels wonderful to have it slide inside her velvet, hot sheath. It’s a frictionless fuck, to say the least. My arms hold me proud of her body as I fuck my cock into her. I look into her eyes but at that moment they are closed. Her hands behind her head claw at the bedclothes and pillows. I want to know what is going through her mind. I really do.

Debbie lets out a scream. I think I’ve hurt her, so I pull back.

“No, fuck no, fuck me harder, I’m cumming,” she cries out at me.

Well, I think to myself, she never mentioned that in her stories. She never once said that she is a screamer.

I fuck my cock back into her, hard this time, and she screams again. She keeps on screaming as her orgasms roll from one into the other. By the time her eyes roll back into her head, they are hitting her simultaneously. She starts to shake her head from side to side and her blasphemous outbursts just spur me on to fuck her harder and yet she has enough composure to put her hands on my arse and pull my buttocks into her as I thrust forward. Her fingernails dig into my sensitive flesh and I find that it is my turn to yell out loud.

“I’m going to cum,” I tell her as I look into her eyes for confirmation that it is alright to let it loose inside her.

“Stop, please stop,” she shouts at me. I take that as a no and pull out of her in time. But I am on the verge of climaxing. I can feel my need subside slightly and I hope that I can control the urge.

Debbie tries to push me off her as she clambers from underneath me.

“It’s okay," she says, "I just want you to cum up my arse!” she exclaims with wide eyes and a wicked grin on her face.

“You’re arse?” I question.

She just nods.

Oh, fuck! Up her arse on the first date? That’s one hell of a fucking result. Needless to say, I didn’t need to be told twice.

Debbie turns around and looks over her shoulder at me, smiling as I place my cock at her rear entrance. I slip it over her pussy first and then slide it along the crack of her arse. I do this several times to smear her juices over her star-shaped entrance, then I smile at her as I push my cock into her. She groans loudly as I enter her, then relaxes as I push my cock in further, my spongy knob resting just past her sphincter. I keep thinking how fucking nice this is. Nice? No, it isn’t nice, it’s fucking filthy-dirty and fantastic and lewd and just out of this world.

I let my cock slide in and fuck her arse with renewed vigour, pulling back on her hips with every forward thrust. I nod and grit my teeth. She is going to get my spunk in her, of that I am certain.

“Matt, cum all over my back and rub it in,” she pleads.

I fuck her wildly, bucking my arse and thrusting my cock into her anus. My knees nearly slip on the slinky bedclothes but I fuck her for all I’m worth. I hear Debbie exclaim that she is cumming again and she lets her upper body rest on the bed with her hands outstretched in front of her, grasping tightly at the bedclothes. I feel the surge of spunk run up the insides of my cock. I suddenly remember what she said earlier, but it seems ages ago now and in any case, I am determined to let the first jet populate her warm and inviting ass.

I do just that before I pull my cock out of her and continue to drain my balls and cover her backside with streams of spunk, some of which reaches her shoulders as I spurt all over her. I can’t believe how satisfying this is.

“Rub it into me,” she instructs.

I lean forward over her body and massage my sperm into her back, the last drops falling from my cock onto her delicious bottom. Debbie eventually rolls onto her side. I fall on top of her and we kiss before I end up facing her, both of us looking at each other and not a lighted cigarette in sight.

“That’s some fuck, eh!” she exclaims. I just nod, partly out of breath. I let my hands fall to her thigh and start to caress it before moving over her hips and up her body.

She starts to giggle at first – then she laughs loudly.

“What’s up?” I ask.

“Fuck knows what my husband would have thought of that!” she says, breathing heavily. She slips her leg between mine and kisses me. My cock twitches against the warmth of her body and it starts to respond and get ready for round two.

Then, out of the blue, she says, “He’s never, ever, had my arse, you know.”

It shocks me because I didn’t know she’s married. It hasn’t come up in any email or storyline or conversation but at least it explains her reluctance to swap phone numbers. It’s certainly the reason why I had to be careful with the buttons on her blouse, maybe the reason why she has so many knickers to choose from and why I had to cum in her arse! Who knows? Should I ask her? Does it matter?

Out of the blue, I realise that today would be nothing more than an illicit encounter, a sexual adventure, a fuck! Just that – a quick fuck!

My cock hardens as she tugs on it and my mind comes back to the present time.

I look into her smiling eyes and we kiss again. My hands paw at her breast and my fingers and thumb tug on her nipple. Her pleasurable cries make it easy to forget the circumstances and before I know it we are rolling on the bed and I am poised above her once more with my cock sliding into her hot channel.

Round two has begun.