A half block from my apartment building was a small but trendy bar that I’d occasionally visit out of boredom. I had broken up with my boyfriend six months earlier and my sex life was nonfunctional except for pleasuring myself. It was a great and frequently used move but no substitute for dick.

I would sit at the bar and fantasize over some cute guy or even some average ones. I was just so horny and it was frustrating that so many guys these days simply didn’t ask girls out, preferring to text or skip even that and go play video games.

One night I was sipping a cocktail and trying to make eye contact with this guy at the other end of the bar. He definitely saw me smile at him on more than one occasion but he never moved from his stool to approach me.

Finally, he got up and came my direction. When he got near he slapped a piece of paper down in front of me and went out the door. What the hell? The note read: You’re cute. Sext me? and he included his cell number. So lame, so fucking lame. This was just another example of a guy’s inability to communicate. I left disappointed as usual.

I got home, sat down and stared at the stupid piece of paper. In the middle of my pissed off mood I contemplated texting him but he was rather specific about ‘sexting’ him so this would require a lot more contemplation. I’d never done that before with a stranger. Why didn’t he sit down and get to know me a little?

After about three hours, still contemplating the note I picked up my cell phone and stared at that for another half hour before begrudgingly texting the words, ‘Hi, I met you at the bar.’

Tick, tick, tick...

Sorry, I’m a little at a loss.

‘I’m Karen, you gave me a note and your cell number on the way out.’

Oh. I left the bar an hour ago. I must have had 2 much because I don’t remember, but how are u? BTW I’m Brian.

‘Great,’ I lied, and then thought, an hour ago? He must have gone to another bar.

What did I say in the note?

‘You said I was cute and to sext you.’

Oh. Well are you?

‘Am I what?’

Cute. Are you cute?

‘That’s what they tell me. We should probably get started. I have to get up early.’

Oh ya, the sexting. I said that, huh?

‘You have a short memory. Maybe another time.’

NO! Sorry, I’ll start. What are you wearing?

‘Not much. Lacey bra and panties.’

Sounds great. Describe your body.

‘Tight and hot with perky 34Bs. If you saw me right now your pants would instantly fall off.’

LOL Wow you sound incredible. Wish I was there.

‘What would you do to me if you were here?’

Dirty talk okay?

‘Mandatory’

I’d want to get my hands on that tight little ass and tease you by occasionally grazing your pussy.

The last line now had my rapt attention. It was on.

‘I would ❤ that. Are you getting hard?’

Yes. I want to slip that bra off so I can get at those 34Bs. My tongue is going to work on your nipples and I’m sucking them.

‘Yes yes yes. I’m getting wet waiting for your cock. I’m going down on you, licking the shaft so it’s rock hard. I’m taking it deep, so deep the shaft disappears down my throat. I want your cock to be ready when it gets to my dripping wet cunt. Do you want it?’

Yes, fuck yes, I want you bad. I’m going down on your juicy pussy, using my tongue and my lips on your clit to get you wetter still.

‘Oh god, yes, work your tongue cause my kitty is VERY happy right now. I want you to fuck me, Brian. I want you to shove that cock in me and fuck my brains out.’

Oh shit, ya, I’m burying my cock deep in that juicy pussy. Fuck it feels good. I’m just fucking drilling you.

For a time we were lost in the mind’s eye until…

‘Uhhhhhhhhhh.

Ahhhhhhhhhhh.

‘OMG, that was pretty damn good...’

It was incredible, Karen. You were just turning me on.

‘Hey, could we meet up tomorrow at the bar like actual social people?’

Yes, I’d love to. After work, about 6pm?

‘That sounds great, see you there...and thanks for tonight.’

Sleep well.

The next afternoon I was there ten minutes before six and much to my joyful surprise, there was Brian down at the end of the bar where he was the day before. I decided it would be fun to sit in the same spot and get his attention from there. Maybe ten minutes or so into my vigil and no looks in my direction. I thought he might be being coy so I snuck up behind his stool and threw my arms around him.

“Hi there, sexy,” I said playfully.

“Hi,” he said, looking surprised at my bold move. “Hey there.”

“Thanks for last night,” I said lovingly, “that was so fun.”

“Ahh, sure, you’re welcome. So, we did something last night?”

“Of course we did, Brian. Why are you pretending this didn’t happen?”

“Wait, my name’s not Brian.”

“What? Yesterday when you were leaving the bar you gave me a note. You said I was cute and you wanted to sext me and we had an amazing time. What’s going on?”

“Ya, I remember you now. I left my cell number because I thought you were kinda hot but I never talked to you on the phone and there was definitely no sexting going on. Let me see the note if you have it.”

I pulled the note out of my purse and he read it silently. “Oh shit, I wrote my number down wrong. It’s 3345 on the end, not 3346. I’m so sorry. Did you text this number?”

What the? I didn’t say a word and sat down to sort things out. Who was that last night? I didn’t have a clue as to what the guy even looked like. I texted the number.

‘Brian?’

Seconds later; Karen? Where are you? I’m at the bar waiting but I realize I don’t even know what you look like.

I thought, well, no risk, no reward. Somehow we got through a hot sexting session together and he thought and then I thought...strangest blind date I ever had. I could of just dropped it and blocked his number but decided to take the risk. I texted a picture of myself.

OMG, you’re so fucking cute! Wow. Okay, fair’s fair. Here’s one of me...

Flash forward two weeks: the guy at the bar who originally gave me the note asked me out, we had sex and it was boring.

On the other hand, Brian and I had real deal sex and it was as spectacular as our sexting. We’re totally attracted to each other and dating steady.

I thank the wrong number guy every time I see him at the bar.