in length, the glans engorged and the cleft below the head deep. I could see a drop of pre-cum nestled in the slit, and I could hear him telling me, ‘Lick it off, whore. Lick me, suck me. Do as I say.’
These images were new to me, sinfully wicked, and generated a well of guilt at what they suggested I really wanted, deep in my soul. But I couldn’t ignore them. Something about Liuz and the way he was with me had drawn rank thoughts and lusty needs to the surface; allowed them out to play, if only in my mind. It seemed they had moved in, for a while at least, and I couldn’t ignore them.
I settled my fingertips over the keyboard and nibbled on my bottom lip as I wondered what to write. Nothing too crude, but something a little edgy. Eventually I settled on, ‘Next I want you to pretend my mouth is your hand. Do what you did to yourself in the picture.’
‘You mean jerk into you hard and fast. I don’t wank like a delicate little flower, you know.’
‘I can imagine.’
‘I’d back you up against a wall and hold your head tight. Forge in and out without a thought for your breathing. After all, my hand doesn’t need to breathe, does it?’
My heart raced. ‘What else?’
‘I wouldn’t give a shit about whether or not your gag reflex was killing you. I’d ram down your throat, enjoying the wet tightness. And I’d shout at you too.’
My fingers shook as I typed. ‘What would you shout?’
Lust screeched around my system.
‘That you had to suck harder, open wider, then when I was about to come I would shout at you to swallow, to keep swallowing until I told you to stop. I would keep ramming into you until my bollocks were drained and my cock started to soften.’
I stroked my clit through the gusset of my leggings and gave in to a few deep rotations. I knew I would have to masturbate soon. The need was building, a carnal pressure that would soon require release. One-handedly I replied, ‘OK.’
There was long pause, which allowed me to fret myself to an ass-clenching state of arousal; then he answered, ‘We should definitely meet.’
I’d sneaked my devilish fingers into my panties now, and the glossy pea that was my clitoris took a hard and fast beating. Once again, I typed ‘OK’ then, as I hit send, I arched my back, reared my hips off the seat and allowed a sharp climax to take control. I panted through the waves of pleasure. I squeezed my eyes shut and once again visualised Liuz before me, thrusting his dick into my mouth, over and over and over.
Our meeting couldn’t come soon enough.
Chapter Two
Four days later Liuz hadn’t sent any emails with a fixed meeting date. I found myself getting anxious. I wanted – no, needed – to meet him sooner rather than later. My lust for him was growing by the second, and any further delay would likely send me into a tailspin.
On a day when I had absolutely nothing planned, my mind as equally idle as my computer, I wondered why Liuz hadn’t contacted me at all that morning. I usually had correspondence from him to wake up to every day, and this was the first time my in-box only displayed spam for penis enlargement and breast augmentation. It got me to thinking about cocks and tits, then Liuz and me. By mid-afternoon a thought came to mind – a totally irrational and insane thought.
I would go to Brixton.
Such was my obsession with him that, as I dressed, I dallied with the idea that fate had made us meet; therefore, fate would direct me to his neighbourhood and we would know one another as soon as we made eye contact. I knew it wasn’t normal behaviour, to indulge in such fancies and even believe they could possibly be true, but that was obsession for you. It drove a person to entertain the ludicrous, to imagine the impossible.
I called in a couple of favours from fellow journalists with connections who could do a quick check on names and addresses. I’d wondered if his name was really Liuz; after all, he could have made that up for the purposes of using the internet anonymously, but somehow I didn’t think he had. He’d always been honest, blunt a lot of the time, and him being so self-assured made me think he’d be comfortable enough to use his real name. Without a surname to go on, though, the results of the check might have been fruitless, but hey, I’d got lucky. And don’t forget, fate was my friend.
Armed with my notebook containing three possible addresses of men named Liuz in Brixton, picked out of the database using God knew what search words – and I didn’t want to know – I boarded a bus. Seated next to the window, with my bag on the chair beside me to prevent anyone sitting there, I gazed out at the passing scenery – houses, the odd open space here and there with scant trees, people out and about – seeing them as a blur, focusing my mind on other things.
Like Liuz’s picture. Our email conversations. The way he made me come with his dirty words.
I imagined he’d be so pleased to see me when we finally did meet face to face. But what if he wasn’t? Yes, I was intrepid online – wasn’t everyone, hiding behind a façade of brimming self-confidence and ultra-awareness of how alluring they were to the recipient of their emails? Now, I allowed myself to wallow in insecurity and doubts, nearly biting one of my long, beautifully manicured nails in the process before I stopped myself. I wouldn’t want him seeing me with ugly hands. Along with my tongue, pussy, ass and mouth, they were the tools I’d use to seduce him.
I dug into my bag and brought out my compact mirror, flipping it open to take a good look at myself and see what someone saw when they met me for the first time. I wasn’t bad-looking, but I wasn’t exactly drop-dead gorgeous either. But then, hadn’t Liuz been able to come with just my words, sight unseen?
It would be OK, I was sure of it.
And then another thought arrived, fresh from its swift entrance into my mind, all blustery and full of importance.
What if I don’t fancy him?
I’d imagined him to be so sexy, so handsome, that I hadn’t entertained the idea he might not be to my tastes visually. His words had been enough, hot and lurid, straight to the damn point, but would they be enough once I’d set eyes on him for real? I wasn’t a fool; I knew appearances mattered. I’m not shallow, honestly I’m not, but a girl’s got to find something about the outer package in order to have a connection.
I huffed out a breath and slipped the compact back into my bag, terrorising myself about him not living up to my expectations and me not living up to his. I succumbed, putting one fingernail in my mouth and lightly running the tip across my teeth, then snatching it away, chewing the inside of my cheek instead. What if it all went wrong? Would it be better to just keep it as an online thing?
I tried to envisage never meeting him, never having his hands on my skin, his breaths tickling the back of my neck, his cock inside me. I couldn’t do it. I had to meet him and, like we’d said, if we didn’t like the look of one another then there wouldn’t even be a meeting – not one that went anywhere anyway.
It’ll be all right. Honestly, it’ll be fine.
The bus lurched to a stop, the movement shunting me forward, and I flung my hand up to grab the back rail of the seat in front. A middle-aged man got off, stepping down onto a residential street strewn with litter that had undoubtedly been
