The Clinch ( An Erotic Novella ) (2 page)

But I did and I was and I was loving it!!

I guess I didn't ever think of where any of it would lead to.

I don't know why I thought that I could sit down and spill my heart out to another person night after night, weekends too, and not being to feel something for that person.

He was so supportive, so funny, so intelligent.

God, if he had been my next door neighbor I would have been offering sugar and flour by now just to lure him over.

But even though I felt like this man knew me better than most of my family members or good friends, it seemed odd, awkward even to think about meeting him. He was from the internet!

What if people ever asked how we met?

Oh my God, I found myself realizing I did want to meet him.

The more I thought about it the more I wanted to.

Our conversations went on. Both of us seemed to avoid the mention of meeting. Now that I wanted it, I could tell more clearly that we were definitely not bringing it up.

If the conversation turned toward a topic that might remotely end up with us discussing it, we quickly changed directions. Him as well as me.

I began wondering if he was as weirded out about it as I was, or perhaps he just didn't like me enough to think about meeting.

Was I just some pesky woman he put up with? I just couldn't believe that.

He seemed to enjoy chatting with me, he was always available when

I would say hello, he never made excuses that I could tell, in order to get away from me.

I ended up doubting myself at times.

Wasn't I good enough to meet?

It really bothered me that he wasn't bringing it up. I wasn't about to do it.

I was the woman.

We aren't the aggressors.

We never ask another person out! I sounded like my mom to myself. Hell, I was a divorcee, raising a child as a single parent.

I wasn't like her.

Please don't tell me I was!

So, night after night I told myself that I was going to bring up the subject, and night after night I sidestepped chances to do so.

I was just plain afraid. That was the long and the short of it. I didn't want to risk losing this wonderful man by pushing too hard.

I ended up dropping a few veiled hints and that was as brave as I got.

But mine weren't the only veiled hints being dropped. It was incredible how some of our conversations effected me.

Yes, I know, I can be a horrible flirt sometimes, but really, who isn't?

Sometimes, I couldn't help myself. He practically would set me up. It was as if I were the comedienne, and he my straight man.

I won't lie either, we both got into it sometimes.

After all, we were both grown adults (oh my god, I hope he is a grown adult!!) and sometimes our conversations would go from friendly to downright HOT! It started out rather innocently.

A comment thrown in during a bland conversation, double meanings, sexual innuendo. But then it became not so veiled anymore.

Ok, go ahead and call it cybersex if you must.

But to me, it was more than words.

Sometimes sitting there in James's room (if you tell him I will hunt you down and kill you) reading the messages as they appeared before me, with him describing how it felt for his tongue to be sliding across, well, ok, we already opened up this can of worms, so I may as well not try and gloss over the good parts.

He had a wondrous way of describing things, that just made me shiver.

He would (with words) run his hands over my body, and as I read his descriptions, I could feel his warm hand, sliding over my breasts, could feel his fingers parting the lips of my pussy, his index finger dipping in to pull moisture up against my clit and press against it.

I could feel his tongue as it licked me, how his lips would suck against my clit, sliding up and down upon it, stroking it.

I had no idea that people did some of the things in real life he described to me in words.

I went to bed most nights, wet and yearning for fulfillment.
Damn good thing James was still at his fathers, or he would have heard my moans from down the hallway as I stroked myself to orgasm as I imagined myself in my internet lovers arms, leaning back against him, his arms around me, his fingers sliding over my clit, dipping into my now hot and aching cunt.

When James came home, I found myself frantic.

How would I stay in contact with my wonderful new friend.

James was online so much of the time, either researching homework (yeah right!!) or chatting with friends, I would never get a chance to sign on and find him waiting for me.

I was tempted to take James's computer out of his bedroom and move it to a central location.

That way I would at least get a turn when he went to bed. It might have worked except for the fact that I knew I would soon exhaust myself by staying up all night. There had to be a solution that would work.

I discussed it with Mark, (yes, by now I knew his name), and while he couldn't do more than commiserate with me over the computer dilemma, he did have a suggestion that we both got butterflies in our stomachs thinking about.

I was thrilled and terrified at the same time. It took quite a bit of beating around the bush for us to finally agree that one possible way for us to continue our relationship was to break down and become more like real people.

We decided to take our friendship up a notch and yes, I know, unthought of in this day and age, talk on the phone!

We agreed that he would call me to start with.

I waited on pins and needles for the phone to ring.

James had returned about 2 days earlier, and Mark and I thought it best to give me some down time with James.

It wasn't hard to be excited about him coming home. I mean, for years he was my reason for living. I stayed up well into the night talking with him about what he did and who he met and so many other things, I barely even thought of Mark.

Well, barely, until I went to bed.

In bed, lying there on my back, staring at the ceiling, I would yearn for Mark's words.

For his sexual expertise.

My fingers would slip down the front of my pajama bottoms, and push my underwear off to one side. While I reran Mark's words through my head, my fingers played out the drama on my body.

I would slide two fingers between the folds of my pussy, and after moistening them from deep inside the folds, I would drag them up, one finger on each side of my clit.

At first I would just rub across it, but once I felt it grow beneath my fingertips, felt it peaking from the hood, I would softly grip it between the two fingers and slide them up and down the tiny shaft.

His mouth would take over in my mind and I would feel my hips lifting up off the bed as I pressed my clit against his tongue.

I trembled in ecstasy as I came for him, and he never even knew it.

After a week of no communication, I have to tell you, I was becoming a person no one wanted to be around. I can't blame them.

Even my oblivious son asked what my problem was.

What was I supposed to say to him, or anyone else for that matter?

I certainly couldn't tell them the truth behind my moods.

I couldn't tell them that I was in withdrawal from online chatting, and that my sex life was suffering for lack of cyber sex.

I found it laughable myself, so go ahead and laugh out loud, or LOL in online jargon.

I knew that Mike and I were going to talk on the weekend, but while that excited me to no end, it also scared the shit out of me.

By the time the weekend rolled around, I had turned down three offers to go out with various friends.

They were worried about me.

I hadn't left the house or taken part in any of our usual get-togethers in weeks and weeks. My best friend Simone even called me on it.

She took no for an answer easily enough, but she prodded at me trying to dig out what was going on.

While my other friends worried for me, asking if there was anything they could do for me, and patted me on the back to try and shake me from my apparent decline into depression, Simone knew that there was more to my becoming the hermit I seemed than unhappiness.

She could see the look of excitement in my eyes, she knew I was keeping a secret of some kind.

I eventually ended up telling her after a grueling half hour of nagging on her part.

I was never any good at keeping secrets, especially good ones, from her.

At first she thought I was a fool.

She told me that he could be married, cheating on his wife, or a toad masquerading as a prince. I assured her he was the genuine article, that he wouldn't lie to me.

What was to gain by his lies, I asked her. She laughed and said a good fuck for starters.

I made light of it by saying we all needed a good fuck now and then. Inside I was defending him. I couldn't believe that someone who I had been communicating with for more than a month, and whom I had shared intimate thoughts as well as thoughts of intimate deeds could possibly be a predator.

Damn Simone for planting a seed of doubt. The rest of the day I would stop and wonder.

What if I was wrong.

What if this guy whom I had felt so special with, had a whole harem of desperate divorcees who dwelled on his every thought.

What if he went from flower to flower, sprinkling us with promises, feeding us lines, all in an attempt to pollinate.

As the time for our first telephone conversation rolled around, my stomach was in a knot. Honestly I was terrified. I didn't want to answer it when it rang.

What if Simone was right? How could I possibly know this man?

How could I trust that he wasn't going to hurt me?

Did I dare invest emotions into someone who I met via the internet?

Talk about torn feelings!