His

“Open your legs for me you dirty slut” -b1gf@tc0Ck12IN “Um, can you not use that word please?” “Why not slut, you’re the one on here whoring yourself.” -b1gf@tc0Ck12IN I couldn’t hit the red X fast enough to close down the chat. Furious with him, and deeply frustrated with myself. Was I just broken? Would I be untouchable forever? I walked away from the computer screen and ran my hand through my hair, my auburn curls shifting chaotically as my fingers passed through them. I was embarrassed, hurt and so bloody horny! I couldn’t let him call me that though, that didn’t turn me on. If he only knew, I was anything but a slut. I was almost 21 and still never even been kissed. I was the only child of very conservative parents, I’d been raised to focus on my education, boys could come later… always later… now I was a freak. I had no clue how to flirt, how to respond if I was flirted with so I always freaked out and shut them down. Now here I was alone in my single dorm room using online chat rooms to try to explore my sexuality. It was 1998, I was lucky my parents could afford to have me hooked up to the internet at College, it was still pretty rare. It was useful for my studies of course, but if I was honest I spent more time on s*x based chatroom’s and forums than researching American Literature. I was beyond frustrated and really starting to think I would die an unkissed virgin. It’s not that I wasn’t attractive, 5’4”, with larger than average breasts and curves in all the right places, I was fit and had waist length curly auburn hair, high cheekbones, full lips and emerald green eyes. I did wear glasses, I’d spent most of my life with my nose in a book since I first learned to read and contacts irritated my eyes. My problem wasn’t how I looked, it was how I responded to others. I just couldn’t seem to connect to people my own age, maybe it was spending so much time with my older than average parents, who knows! I did know that I was always seen as a bit weird and never really had any lasting friendships with my peers. I’d had my chances, most notable when I was 15, at high school a boy with shock of white through his jet black hair called Renzo had liked me, I think, he would find reasons to partner up with me in science class and was always teasing me but in a friendly way. He asked me out once, to meet him at the movie theater one Saturday night. Rather than freak out and rebuff him as I had with others I took a deep breath and agreed, he had warm dark eyes and a cute smile and I had to admit I had a little crush. I turned up, on time, in my brand new jeans and a cute shirt tied below my breasts, excited and terrified at the same time, and I waited… and waited… and waited until after 30 minutes I noticed a group of boys from school across the parking lot watching me and and laughing, pushing each other around the way boys do until I finally saw Renzo pushed to the front of the group. He at least had the manners to look ashamed of himself as my hand flew to my mouth in shock and I ran all the way home sobbing. After that, any boy who showed the faintest interest, whether at school or later at college, I’d shut him down, tell a lie about having a boyfriend or just flat out refuse, earning a reputation for being frigid and soon enough, the offers stopped. So here I was getting my kicks from cybersex. I was far from proud but it was all I had, I didn’t believe I was worth anything else. That guy tonight though, he was awful; all about him, no seduction, just down and dirty. I fell back onto my bed, I guess I’d read too many romances, why couldn’t my handsome hero come and sweep me off my feet and make love to me in warm green meadows? I looked over at my computer, would I try again? It was so good when I found someone who got really into it, who was as excited as writing an interesting and erotic scene as he was about getting off to my response. I could feel my need for release, calling and I sighed when I pulled off my jeans and crawled under the covers before letting my fingers slide between my legs. I closed my eyes, imagined myself on the ground in that meadow, my strong powerful lover above me, kissing me from neck to my pelvis, his hands massaging my breasts as I gripped his muscular back. My fingers parted my folds as I imagined his tongue doing the same, hot and strong as it would press against my aching bud. I bit hard on my lower lip, I couldn’t be loud here, but I imagined I was screaming with pleasure as his tongue / my fingers caressed that bud and I felt the heat rising within me. I felt the tingles that started just behind that sensitive spot and radiated out through my body leaving me writhing, breathless and doing all I could to not moan out loud. As I felt my release coming I grabbed my pillow with my other hand and held it over my face as I screamed and moaned and writhed as I rode out my orgasm. Would any real man make me feel that good?