The Clinch ( An Erotic Novella ) (5 page)

Pressing them flat under his palm and rubbing them, making my body thrill with the pleasure.

After a short while, he would push me back down against the bed, his body sliding over mine and press himself onto me.

I would love the weight of his body resting against mine, his lips kissing me, his tongue slipping into my mouth, his hard cock pressing against my inner thigh.

My legs would come up and encircle his waist, his cock now pressing against the slick moist folds of my cunt.

My arms up would slip up around his neck as he pressed his cock into those folds, the head penetrating me.

I would quiver as his cock sunk further into me.

Our bodies would move together as one, every inch of his hardened cock plunging deep into me over and over again.

It was here that I realized the bacon was on fire.

But so was my pussy, I was so hot by now, my daydream fueling my fire, I didn't know how I was going to wait much longer to meet this man.

It wasn't so hard, Monday through Friday, with work and taking care of James, I hardly had time to wonder what Mark was up to, and if he was thinking of me.

Not saying I didn't.

There was many a time when I would be startled out of another hot daydream by a car horn behind me.

The light had turned green how long ago?

Another time, the dear old lady at the grocery store rammed her cart into mine to get me to move up my place in line.

Even James noticed my distraction.

He didn't complain as much as I might have over the sandwich I sent him to school with that had no meat in it. He did however raise an awful stink about me turning his favorite t-shirt red, by putting it in with the new towels for the guest bath.

OK, I admit it, I was a walking hormone! Just a glance at the cucumber in the vegetable tray made me wet.

Thank god it was the weekend that James went to his dad's house. On Friday night after dropping him off at this dads house, I rushed home.

I didn't get any speeding tickets, but that was only because I learned early on that crying when the cop stops you gets you a warning instead of a citation.

Poor Scruff got the shortest walk of her life, and showed her appreciation by eating my slippers.

Something I didn't even notice until the following morning.

I threw together a plate of leftover spaghetti, a glass of wine, and breaking my own rule about eating in the bedroom went in James's room and camped out on his computer.

I didn't waste all my time waiting though, I'll have you know, I got some good bargains shopping early for Christmas!

Around an hour later, and another glass of wine down, Mark signed on. I had to stop myself from messaging him the second I saw his name, but much to his credit, I seemed to be more important than any email he might have had, as he immediately said hello. God, we were both like giddy teens.

Over and over we said how great it was to be chatting again finally, and how much we had missed one another. It wasn't long until we began cuddling (I prefer that word better than cybering).

It almost seemed a frantic kind of lovemaking we wrote of, and I was so turned on after a half hour of it, I had shed my pants and shoes, unbuttoned my shirt and was sitting at the computer, typing away in my bra and panties.

Yes, I would clean the keyboard later!

It was almost impossible to sit there reading Marks words, without stroking my fingers over my clit.

At times, I would have to lick the wetness off my fingers before I could type a response.

I know for a fact that he had to be typing one handed now and then.

I couldn't see him, but his one word responses where a dead giveaway.

It was such a turn on to know that my mere words were enough to make him hard! I played it up too though.

I would tell him how bad I wanted to suck his cock. Tell him that I wanted to lick it through the fabric of his shorts, and nibble at it when I could feel it get hard. I told him that I wanted to rip his pants off, and cradle his cock and balls in both hands, and slip the tip of it into my lips.

Let my tongue twirl around the head of his cock, then suck it in deeper. I told him I wanted to slide his cock over my tongue and press it against the roof of my mouth, pulling back from him and letting my lips drag over his shaft, then suck hard, and drag it back in my mouth, all the while rolling his balls around in my hands.

God, I did want too!

I could feel his cock, firm and long in my mouth as I typed.

I could feel it jump and jerk as I sucked at it. I could feel the ridge around the head of his cock pass over my lips as I sucked it deep into my mouth, all the while my tongue stroking the underside of it.

I wanted to press his cock deep into my mouth and feel the tip enter my throat, I wanted to feel it as I swallowed around it, my tongue pressing upward. I wanted to slurp at his cock, sucking it in and out over and over until I could feel it start to thicken in my mouth as he was about to cum.

I wanted to feel it jerk as the cum pulsed out into my mouth, me pressing it deep into my throat and swallowing every drop.

I wanted to feel it spur cum against the back of my throat, wave after wave of it. I wanted to hold his cock in my mouth as it softened, and suck it back to hardness again.

I wanted to start over again and again and again.

We chatted until well after midnight, neither of us even considering trying to call the other. For some reason, that night, the written words were stronger than anything we could ever say to one another.

It felt so freeing to read and respond, sharing wants, feeling, and emotions.

I can't speak for him, but somehow I felt that if I were to have to bring all those feelings to the tip of my tongue and spit them out as words, they would lose some of thier intensity.

That night, words were our reality.

We both signed off with hesitation, as if we were both aware of the fact that saying goodnight and turning toward the real world would lessen our experience.

During the following day, I worked around the house doing all the chores that a full time single mom does.

I, of course, wandered by James's room often, even paused to sign on and see if Mark was online, left a suggestive email even, but I never ran into him.

I recalled him mentioning a friends wedding or some stupid affair he had to attend, but in my lust filled haze I couldn't recall what time it started or ended, or even if he had told me those details.

I figured if nothing else, he would be around that night sometime, and I left him an email saying when I would plan on being online and to check for me if he wandered on.

I bounced through the house, on a post sex high, even though I had not encountered a male of my species in months.

I had to admit that the online scene was a pretty fulfilling experience.

All the emotions, all the feelings, but noone you had to share your bathroom with. Who could ask for more??

Who indeed?

Well, me for one.

I wanted more, I wanted a real person with a real name and a real voice.A person with real arms that could hold the REAL me. I was finally ready for a real meeting.

Now how to bring it up?

How could I say I wanted more without scaring him away.

We had never really talked about meeting one another. The most we had committed to thus far was a phonecall, that still hadn't happened (I don't count the call that Simone had bungled for us).

The thought of meeting with him thrilled and scared me to death. It is so easy to get along with someone online.

So easy for them to portray the nice side of thier personality and never ever give any indications of the dark skeletons in thier closets.

Was I ready for someone else I cared for, and yes, I admit I cared for Mark, was I ready for them to see my dirty laundry?

Was he ready to see me? That night, I don't know who even suggested it. I recall it being me, but then my heart was beating so fast I might have been hallucinating, and he might have been the one to broach the subject.

All I really remember was that both of us were thrilled with the prospect of meeting finally. We made the plans and decided it would be best to wait until a weekend when James was away at his dads to go through with it.

We picked a restaurant near my place, he said it was the mans job to do the traveling. I was floating on air by the end of our chat.

The only downside was that Mark wasn't going to be in town all next week and the weekend so I wouldn't get much more of a chance to chat with him before the big day. I couldn't believe as we signed off, that we were going to meet.

I kept telling myself over and over again it was true.

It was true. It was true.

Simone went shopping with me the next weekend to find the perfect outfit to wear. I wanted to look chic but she pushed for feminine.

She said I was too pretty to pull chic off. I let her win that battle, since I had already had the fight with her about even going through with the date in the first place.

We ended up picking out a powder blue dress that was satiny smooth with soft lacey accents. It did look great on me.

I had to thank Simone for being the fashion expert. I got it home and hung it up on my closet door where I could see it every time I walked into the room.

It was a tangible reminder that I was going to be with Mark soon. I couldn't hardly wait.

OK, so now you are all caught up with me.

Tomorrow is the big night. I have rehearsed the meeting in my head a million and one times but I still have butterflies in my stomach.

I mean how can a person be scared and excited at the same time?

So many what ifs!

There was the all powerful, what if we just didn't have the same chemistry in person that we did online? Or if that one wasn't enough, what if I get there and he isn't there?

I was so busy freaking myself out I couldn't sleep well that night.

So waking up, another what if cropped up. What if these black circles under my eyes don't go away by tonight?

So there I was, driving to the restaurant.

Mark said to meet him in the bar at 7.

I left the house by 6:30, thinking that if there was traffic I would still get there in time, and if not, I could always sit in my car and bite all my fingernails off.

Simone had come over and helped me get ready.

I have to hand it to that girl. I know she doesn't like the idea of me doing this, but once she got it through her thick head I was going to do it, she has been nothing but helpful.

I would have been a mess without her there helping and cracking jokes to keep my mind off of everything.

I need to remember to thank her.

At 6:50, I pulled into the parking lot.

I wasn't sure I could get out of the car with my knees knocking so fiercely. Good thing Simone said to wear my flats, because if I had worn those pumps, I probably would have gotten my first look at Mark through the back window of the ambulance that was taking me to the hospital with a compound fracture to my ankle.

Pulling down the sun visor, I checked to make sure my makeup was still fresh enough, then decided what the hell, either he likes me like this or he doesn't.

Who cares about looks anyway, when we have already shared our souls with one another!

So I managed to get into the restaurant without any embarrassing mishaps, and wondered if I could get a peak in the bar without him knowing I have arrived yet.

I guess he had some sort of radar, because as I entered the bar he was already walking toward me. I had to force myself to stay calm.

Looking at Mark walking toward me was like being in a dream. Everything and everyone else in the restaurant sort of vanished and we were the only two people there. It was so incredible to be in the same room with him.

He was as handsome as his picture had seemed to indicate and I was instantly familiar with him. He walked up to me and shook my hand like a gentleman, and said that they had a table waiting for us if we wanted to go there directly.

I don't remember answering him but I suppose I did.