I Know What's Real: A Contemporary Online Romance Page 4

  I’m not ready to go there just yet, I decide. Instead, maybe we can add a layer to the phantoms that haunt our fantasies.

  Chapter 9

  The email chimes. I don’t pretend to be anything but desperate to read it. It’s getting late, and I was beginning to worry that I wasn’t going to hear from him. I have been flipping endlessly through channels waiting for his reply. I am aroused, on edge, and I have no doubt that if Alec or any other eligible man with a hard cock walked through the door right now, I would tackle him.

  I want more of you, Kinsey. You are filling my thoughts. My hands itch to feel you. My mouth longs to taste you. My cock- well let’s just say he has a mind of his own and it is very, very dirty. I want to make you scream with pleasure. I want you to moan with delight. I want you to sigh with complete satisfaction.

  Let me make something clear. I’ve never done this before. You’ve gotten under my skin in a way I never expected. I would never do anything to make you uncomfortable. So if my next statement breaks some kind of etiquette, please tell me.

  Let me call you. Let me listen to you as I tell you all the things I want to do to you while you pleasure yourself. Let me hear you cum for me.

  I bite my lip. This man is making me into a nutcase. I never sit on the couch flipping through channels at warp speed, fantasizing about a man I don’t even have a physical description of. I think for a few more moments. This feels like a turning point. I feel like this makes it real. Do I want to make this phantom into a man of flesh and blood?

  I don’t know the rules either so I guess that means we get to make them up as we go along.

  578-555-5478

  I hit send and immediately start to hyperventilate. This man is going to call and expect me to orgasm with him listening. He is going to expect me to say dirty things back to him. My heart feels like it is going to slam right out of my chest, and my hands are shaking. I’m blushing already at the simple thought that he is going to call and say naughty things to me.

  I give myself a firm mental bitch slap. I’ve been nothing but dirty with this man. He wouldn’t know me if he walked past me on the street. This is a chance to do something new. It is not the time to dissolve into an embarrassed 16-year-old virgin. I’ve done naughty things before and enjoyed them. It’s just been a while- a long while.

  I quickly get up and go to my bedroom. I know that I want to be comfortable, and I definitely don’t want Max to bear witness to my debauchery. I hold my phone in my trembling hand and reread our conversation from today. The trembling begins to subside, rapidly replaced by the hum of desire.

  The phone rings and I jerk so badly my fumbling fingers drop it. I snatch it from the floor and answer with a breathy, “Hello?”

  “You are a very talented writer, Kinsey, but your talents don’t stop there. Do they?” His voice is rich and smooth as gourmet chocolate. My mouth goes dry, and my mind goes blank. He sounds delicious.

  “You would have to be the judge of that,” I manage to say though my voice quivers and sounds like I just ran up a flight of stairs. I don’t seem to be able to get enough air into my lungs to support conversation at the moment.

  “You have no idea how much I would enjoy finding that out. Are you in your bedroom?”

  I gulp and force myself to take a deep breath. I really am being foolish. “Yes, I’m in my bedroom.” My voice sounds stronger this time, but my mind is still scattered to the winds. For lack of anything else, I blurt, “What about you? I mean, are you in your bedroom?” I try for a sexy tone. I sound weird to my own ears, and my cheeks flame with heat.

  “If you have anything on, take it off. I want to see you,” Alec commands, ignoring my question.

  I drag in long, tremulous breaths as I wiggle out of my clothes. “Okay. I’m naked.” My voice squeaks a bit, and I wonder what he thinks of such a silly girl who can’t even talk.

  “Good. Lay back on the bed for me, Kinsey. Just relax.” His tone is smooth but firm and I comply without further thought. I decide that my best hope of enjoying this is to quit thinking altogether.

  I lie on my back like he instructed and switch my phone to speaker mode. I put it on the pillow next to me. My whole body is trembling with nervous energy and red-hot desire.

  “Very good. Just listen to my words. Touch yourself, Kinsey. Close your eyes. Those are my hands touching you.” My skin is on fire as my hands skim over my body. Alec’s voice wraps around my mind. There isn’t anything beyond his words. I abandon myself completely to it.

  “Squeeze your breasts.” I moan response, and he hums his approval. “Pinch your nipples. Roll them in your fingers. That is my mouth sucking, biting, making you moan.”

  I gasp when I pinch my taut nipples with the image of his mouth lowered to my breast. It sends a jolt of pleasure through me. I hear Alec growl a moan into the phone.

  “That’s right. You like that, don’t you. Open your legs, Kinsey. Slide your fingers across your pussy. Touch your lips. Feel how hot you are. Feel how my touch has you on fire.”

  My mind is spinning. I have never felt like this when I touched myself before. I move my fingers lightly over my swollen lips, and my core throbs, demanding more. “I want more,” I say in a husky whisper. “It feels so good, but I want more. I want you to fuck me.”

  Alec’s low rumbling chuckle that ends in a groan resonates in my ear. “Not yet, baby. You’ll get what you want. Slide your fingers into your pussy. Tell me how wet you are.”

  My fingers follow his instructions. I moan low when they find my center slick and hot. “I’m dripping wet.” I slide two fingers inside myself and moan again. “I need you inside me.”

  His rasping breath makes my stomach flip. “Fuck, yes, Kinsey. Do you know how hard I am? I want to be inside you, fucking you. Play with your clit, Kinsey. I need you to cum for me.”

  I do as he says. My fingers move to the rhythm of my body, and my other fingers pinch my nipple fiercely. My gasping moan confirms for him my compliance with his instructions.

  “You like that don’t you, baby. I want to eat your pussy until you moan like that for me. Come on, Kinsey. Cum for me. Let me hear you.”

  I move my fingers firmly over my clit in tight circles. I feel the crescendo building as they work. Alec’s breathing is audible on the phone. “Are you stroking your cock,” I ask, excited by the prospect.

  “Oh, fuck yes. Do you want it in your mouth? Shall I fuck your pussy?”

  That was all I needed to hear- the image of him stroking himself, hearing the ragged edge in his voice. I cry out, loudly as my orgasm rolls through me. Distantly, I hear Alec’s roar of pleasure and his heavy breathing. My back arches off the bed and pleasure racks my body. I moan and gasp as each spasm seizes me in its delicious embrace. Finally, I lay still and relax into a glorious miasma of endorphins.

  “God, Kinsey. You are so fucking hot.”

  Alec’s voice brings me back to reality, and immediately, my brain starts to wrestle with what I’ve just done. “Did you...,” I trail off, my mouth suddenly shy of the words.

  “Oh, yeah, baby.”

  “Did you make a mess,” I ask without thinking. It was the first thing that had come into my head. I giggle and his laughter comes through the phone to mix with mine. It lasts a moment followed by an easy silence. “I can’t keep my eyes open,” I mumble. My lids droop, and I pull a blanket over me. A yawn bursts forth before I can stop it. The emotional roller coaster of the day coupled with the explosive orgasm is pulling me quickly under.

  “Yeah, I hear you, babe. Go to sleep, Kinsey.” There’s a pause before he adds, “You’re even better than I imagined.” Or at least I think he said that. I drift off, succumbing to the pull of sleep.

  Chapter 10

  I stare into the dark after our call. Kinsey’s nervousness reassures me. It tells me that she hasn’t done this with a hundred other guys. Why that makes me grin like an idiot, I don’t want to think about. Her voice echoes in my head blending with her moans and gas
ps and groans.

  My mind’s eye can see her body under my hands. My skin burns with the imagined feeling of her heat. Every encounter I have with her is convincing me more and more that she is the real deal. I want Kinsey. I want her in the flesh, not just in my imagination.

  My internal devil’s advocate chimes in reminding me that reality will never be as good as fantasy. Of course, based on the last fifteen minutes, it might be even better. I slide my hand through my hair and shut down the inner debate. My body, my gut, my heart are all saying ‘go for it.’ My mind never stood a chance.

  Kinsey,

  You are a writer of stories but most writers enjoy reading a good story as well. While I won’t claim it to be written with the same skill as you possess, I hope you enjoy it all the same.

  Once upon a time, there was a guy who found himself given the extra assignment of being a liaison to a content writer for a tech company. He was none too thrilled about the prospect until he read her first email. This was no ordinary writer. Kinsey painted pictures with her words, laced meaning upon meaning with her sentences, and captivated him from the first. Her clever turn of phrase left him wanting more.

  “Write a story for me, Kinsey,” he asked. Her story set his blood boiling. Soon he could think of nothing but her. She stalked his waking moments and dominated his dreams. His body ached for her. He needed more.

  “Let me hear your voice, Kinsey,” he asked. The sound of her voice made his body hum with desire. The sounds of her pleasure drove him mad with lust. He knew he would never be complete until he felt her skin against his, tasted her lips and stared into her eyes as he drowned in the pleasure of her.

  “Come to me, Kinsey,” he asked. Her answer is yet unknown. He waits, longing for the day that she is no longer a phantom in his mind. He hopes for the moment that his hand touches hers and their passion pours from the page to reality.

  Chapter 11

  My eyes open sluggishly. I squeeze them shut, desperate to hold onto the dream. Alec had been holding me close to him. He was hot and solid. I frantically try to remember more, but the harder I try, the faster the dream fades like wispy clouds scattered on a breeze. It had been so real.

  I take a deep breath as my waking mind takes control of my thoughts. I hadn’t dreamed Alec’s voice last night. My body responds to the memory of last night with a throb of longing for him, a man that I have never met. I want him beyond reason. I want him here, live, warm, and real.

  I hug my arms around myself. The last couple of days tumble through my head. Intense, erotic, and completely consuming, this thing with Alec has become larger than life. I chew my lip and wonder where it is going to take me.

  I heave a sigh and kick back the covers. I hiss as cool morning air hits my naked skin. I can’t remember the last time that I slept naked. With enormous willpower, I manage not to pull the covers back over me. It’s time to start the day.

  Coffee in hand and hair wrapped in a towel, I pull up my email, trying not to hold my breath in expectation. I click on Alec’s email with a happy grin. I skim it quickly, and the grin slides from my face. My stomach falls to my toes with a sickening plummet. I stare, gaping at the screen. I quickly reread the note again. My heart rate jumps with every word.

  He wants to make it real. He wants to meet me.

  Sitting there, stunned, I try to wrap my head around it. My gut reaction- no way. The guy could be a psychopath or married or just plain crazy. Even as the pragmatic words swirl in my head, I can’t believe them. He has been nothing but amazingly hot and sexy- not one note of crazy. I think about the flirting I had done with Larry- even before I had met him. There had never been any depth to it, no real heat. Alec is an inferno, and he wants to consume me.

  After a short deliberation where my inner good girl fought hard in a losing battle, I make my decision. It is time to call in reinforcements.

  Good morning,

  I will not be in the office today as I am not feeling well. Attached is the final copy for Donna. I hope to return tomorrow.

  Thank you,

  Kinsey

  I don’t send anything in response to Alec’s email last night. I want to leave an option open in case I chicken out- or come to my senses.

  I pour another cup of coffee with steady hands. Making a decision always calms my soul. I sip while I dial Color Me Pretty Salon and Studio. It is far too early for them to be open, but the owners, Steve and Stephan, are the closest thing I have to best friends. Their shop is on the corner of my block. It’s an inconspicuous location for a salon with a photography studio above it. Steve takes the pictures and Stephan does the hair. Between the two of them, they can make any woman look like a movie star. They do weddings, proms, and any other special occasions. They also do a discrete side business for women who want tasteful, yet naughty, pictures for their significant others.

  I have a plan forming in the back of my head. In every chick-flick I’ve seen, the plotting heroine has to pull in her besties to make her plan work. I am thoroughly convinced that my life has morphed into a Lifetime movie in the last couple of days so I plan to stick to the script.

  Steve’s groggy voice answers, “I assume you either need to be bailed out of jail or picked up from the hospital to call at this hour.”

  I smile. It’s after 7:00, but it is an ungodly hour in Steve’s book until at least 10:00. “I do need help. Get up. I’ll be there in an hour, and I’m bringing pancakes from Ella’s.”

  “Fuck. You’re not in trouble are you?” Steve’s gravelly voice is slightly more alert at the mention of Ella’s famous pancakes and the touch of concern warms my heart.

  “Yes and no, but it isn’t anything serious. I’ve got man problems.”

  Stephan’s voice drowns out his partner’s, “I’d call that an emergency. Make mine blueberry with a side of bacon. Hurry up, Buttercup.” The line goes silent. I can’t help but feel better knowing they will help me. Still, my stomach lurches, seesawing from a million dancing butterflies to the heavy weight of dread and back again. Trying not to think too much, I place the order online and pour another cup of coffee. It’s going to be a busy day.

  “No. Absolutely not. This is crazy. You don’t even know this guy!” Steve is pacing around the room, fueled with pancakes and coffee.

  “Come on, Steve. If you don’t help me, I’ll go somewhere else or I’ll do it myself- with my cell phone. Don’t make me take a selfie in the mirror for this guy.” I sit calmly in the salon chair, spinning slowly around and around. I’m pulling out the big guns. Selfies are an insult to Steve’s photographic sensibilities. Just in case, I appeal to a higher power. “Stephan, you’ll at least do my hair- right? I know you won’t trust these locks to anyone else.” I give him a pleading look.

  “Of course. Hair is one thing. The pictures are another,” Stephan replies keeping his tone neutral, playing the mediator, as usual. “Pictures are dangerous, Kinsey. Once they are out there, they are worth far more than a thousand words.”

  “That’s why none of them will show my face,” I reply with an edge of frustration. This was the third round of conversation on the topic. As they wolfed down pancakes, I had caught them up. They had been jubilant when I told them I had met someone and had wanted all the juicy details. Of course, I didn’t have a lot since I have never actually ‘met’ Alec and I certainly wasn’t going to share the ‘juicy’ part of our conversations. So I had glossed over the details but couldn’t sidestep the fact that I had was planning to meet a stranger from the internet, even though, as I pointed out repeatedly, he was actually a coworker and had passed a background check at some point to get the job. They had initially been wary, but Steve had dug his heels in when I had asked him to take steamy pictures of me to give to Alec in answer to his request to meet.

  “Come on, guys. You do this for a living. I’m happy to pay you if you’ll treat me like any other customer.” That earns me a double frown, and they retire to the adjoining room to talk about it. I feel like a kid whose par
ents have gone off to discuss her punishment. Anxiety starts to build, and I spin faster in the chair. Steve and Stephan are an integral part of my plan. If they don’t help me, I’ll have to go back to the drawing board. There’s no way I’m sending a selfie to Alec.

  Finally, they emerge and I stop the chair, though my head continues to spin. I grab the arms of the chair and watch as the room rotates around me. I love that dizzy, off-kilter feeling. I let myself enjoy the sensation and hear Steve’s chuckle. They’ve banned from the chairs more than once for playing on them. Once I’m able to focus on a single point, I look at them with the question in my eyes.