Literotic asexstories – Runaway Fantasy Pt. 01 by becca20S,becca20S
Before I start, I wanted to write a quick thank you to everyone who gave me such wonderful support in response to my first story, Dormant Desires. I really had no idea what to expect before submitting that piece, and to be honest I was quite nervous. But after reading everyone’s extremely kind words, both in the comments on Literotica as well as in the private messages some of you sent, I just wanted to let everyone know that you’ve made this process so much easier than I had feared. From the bottom of my heart, thank you!
And as you can obviously tell, I’m back with another story to share! Now this tale is going to be a completely different process, mainly because while Dormant Desires was my attempt to recreate an event that actually happened to me in real life, this next story, Runaway Fantasy, is complete fiction. Well… mostly fiction, as I’ll explain in a bit.
So the events in this story are definitely made up. In other words, they aren’t based on anything I’ve had happen to me, or anything I’ve heard of happening to someone else. They’re just a byproduct of my overactive imagination.
The primary male character in this story, Mike, is also completely made up. I can safely say that he doesn’t remind me of anyone I know personally, but instead is based on a number of male figures I’ve come to relate to through my readings on Literotica. To be honest, I’ve never really known any sex-obsessed men in real life, as my longtime husband was basically the complete opposite of that. But through all my countless readings on here, I feel like I’ve gained a decent appreciation of the male mind, both from the characters that exist in these stories, as well as the men that are obviously doing the writing behind the scenes. And so I’ve tried to draw on all of that inspiration to create a unique, interesting, and unapologetically horny middle-aged, man, that I’m calling Mike.
So given all of that, it’s my hope that he also ends up being a believable character. Considering that his actions drive a significant amount of this story’s plot, it’s important that he comes across as relatable and realistic, especially to the male readers, so that the story itself becomes plausible. This is my very first attempt at writing something fictional, and as I’m realizing, there can be a trade-off between how interesting and entertaining a tale is, and how believable it is when you read it. So hopefully I’m able to strike an appropriate balance between the two.
Now this is where the non-fiction element comes in. The main female character and narrator, Becca, is actually going to be based on me. More specifically, she is going to be modeled after who I was when I was 18 years old. This story does take place in present day, though, so given that I’m currently 40 years old in real life, I’m going to do my best to imagine what I would’ve been like as an 18-year-old living in today’s world. I’ll try to convey my thoughts and actions as realistically as possible, with the only caveat being that it’s a little difficult to remember just how naive I actually was all those years ago. 😛
In addition to trying to simulate what my mental and emotional state would’ve been like if I had been presented with the scenario in this story, Becca’s character will also reflect all the physical characteristics I had when I was 18. On top of that, a number of the small anecdotes I use throughout this piece are based on things I actually did or events that really did happen to me when I was younger. So if nothing else, perhaps this story will give you some insight into what I was like when I was in my late teen years.
And finally, I wanted to make one quick note about the chapter format I’m going to be using. Like my first story, I’ll be breaking this piece up into a handful of parts. But this time, each part is going to represent a single day in the story, meaning it will end when I go to sleep, and be continued in the next part when I wake up. The story begins on a Sunday afternoon and ends on the following Thursday, so there will be five days, and therefore five parts in total. I hope you enjoy it!
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Runaway Fantasy * Sunday * (first day)
I’m pretty nervous. I mean how could I not be? But the very specific list of instructions Mike gave me to do before leaving is giving me something to focus on, which definitely helps.
My phone is all taken care of. I changed the main passcode on it, powered it completely down, and hid it in a zipper pouch of one of about two dozen stuffed animals I have in my closet.
I have my drivers license, $80 in cash, and some basic hand written directions for how to get to the highway exit where we’re planning on meeting. The cash is really just for gas, and it’s only about an hour and forty-five minute drive from here, so it should be plenty. It’s definitely going to be weird to be without my phone though, especially for five whole days! But Mike was adamant that I leave my iPhone behind as he was worried that even if it was shutdown, my parents might still be able to track its location somehow.
And then finally, there was the most important step of all… the handwritten note I needed to leave my parents to let them know that I hadn’t been kidnapped, but instead had left completely under my own free will. Mike explained that since I’m now 18, as long as I leave a letter behind, my parents can’t officially report me as missing and there’s nothing for the police to even get involved with.
I had asked Mike exactly what I should put in this note, and while he gave me the key points, he said it was important that it’s in my own words so that there’s no question as to who wrote it.
So here it is:
Dear Mom and Dad,
I’m sorry to spring this on you out of the blue, but I needed to go away for a few days. I feel trapped here at home, and I just need a little time to myself. Sorry about borrowing the car, but I’ll be home later this week. I promise I’ll be safe, and I love you guys bunches!
Love,
Becca
PS – please don’t be worried or mad! XOXO
I take the note and leave it on the kitchen counter where my parents will be sure to see it when they get home later tonight from my little brother’s baseball tournament. I roll the suitcase I packed out to our driveway, place it in the trunk of our Camry, and hop into the car. I place the handwritten directions on the passenger’s side seat, but it’s basically just four turns I already know to get to the highway, followed by 112 miles on one interstate to an exit that supposedly has an Applebee’s right there. That’s where Mike and I are meeting for dinner!
Okay, so before I go any further, I know what you’re thinking. I’m not an idiot, so I’ve definitely thought about it too. I know how crazy it is to go meet a grown man that I’ve only ever chatted with online. I know that theoretically I could get kidnapped, or raped, or worse. Obviously I don’t think that’s going to happen, as I wouldn’t be driving to go meet him if I did. But I’m still nervous. In fact I just jumped the curb getting the car out of our driveway.
But I think the reason my heart is pounding right now isn’t coming from the small chance that this man turns out to be an online predator, but more from the possibility that he’s actually the person he’s claimed to be all along. Because if that’s the case, then it means he actually wants to be my boyfriend, and for me to be his girlfriend.
While that would definitely be a good thing, don’t get me wrong, it’s still kind of nerve-racking to think about, given the fact that I’m 18 years old and have yet to even kiss a boy. But while I do feel on edge right now, it’s definitely the good kind of nervousness, like the feeling you get when you’re climbing the first hill of a huge roller coaster.
But anyway, one of the main reasons why I don’t think Mike is some sort of horrible monster, is just the sheer amount of time we’ve spent chatting over the years. It’s been almost three years since I first replied to a Reddit comment he had made asking for help trying to figure out the lottery system for some Taylor Swift tickets. He was so sweet and so panicked that he was going to miss out on getting the tickets for his stepdaughter, and I was more than happy to help as I’d been through the same process before.
It worked out, he got the tickets, and it felt so great to help him, mainly because he was so appreciative and nice! And we just never stopped chatting from there. And I know what you’re thinking, if you do the math, then since I’m 18 now, that means I was 15 then. And so what kind of man keeps a chat going with a 15-year-old girl? Well, in his defense and my defense, he never once asked me anything personal, said anything suggestive, or made any sort of inappropriate comments, whatsoever. Like not once. Not ever.
And so while we never talked about anything related to sex, we did talk about basically everything else. From school work, to religion, to tv and movies, to careers and about going to college, we pretty much covered it all. We never FaceTimed or spoke on the phone, except for one very brief call when he had this panic attack that I had been catfishing him this whole time, and so I told him I’d be happy to prove I really was who I said I was. But other than that, literally everything else has been over text.
But the amazing thing about Mike is, is that he actually listens. Like he really pays attention to what I say, and then he follows up later to ask about things we had talked about before, which I’m just not used to.
Just to give you one example of what my interactions with guys in real life are like… this past year was my senior year of high school. Spring semester, I thought I had this connection with a boy named Cole in my art class. I would comment on his projects and sometimes he would make some funny jokes privately just to me. I’d laugh and he’d smile back. Pretty often in class, I’d sit right next to him and we’d work on our art projects side-by-side. And so I thought we had a little bit of a connection. Nothing major, but something at least. But then after having been in this class together for like two whole months, he had to get my attention because I was supposed to turn out the lights, and he calls out to me, and he calls me Lisa?!? Everyone else was like, “yo goober, her name is Becca!” I mean, it’s not even like he called me Becky, which I do get a lot. But freakin’ Lisa?!?
Ugh. I just always felt so invisible at my school. It was infuriating. But then I’d come home, head to my room and chat with Mike, and he’d always have something funny to say to make me feel better, or he’d be able to put things in perspective to show why whatever I was upset about probably wasn’t worth my frustration. I do have a handful of good friends from school, but in some ways, my internet friend Mike has been my closest friend of all these past few years.
At this point, I’ve found my way onto the interstate and it’s just a straight shot to the meetup from here. I’m good on gas, so I shouldn’t have to stop. I had let Mike know I’d probably get there around 6pm, and while I don’t have the super accurate ETA I normally would with phone directions, I think my timing should be just about perfect.
Anyhoo, back to Mike and our online relationship. So you’re probably wondering why I’m just assuming that he and I are going to become boyfriend and girlfriend if he never said anything suggestive or romantic to me. The truth is, he never brought up the topic when I was younger, but there definitely was a noticeable change right after my birthday this past April. And Mike even admitted this, that basically there were things he could say now, that he couldn’t have said before I had actually turned 18. And so our chats definitely became different.
So full disclosure, Mike is 45 years old and married. He got married around 10 years ago, and his wife had two kids from a prior marriage, so they’re his step kids now. As far as I know, he doesn’t have any biological kids of his own. He used to never talk about his wife at all, her name is Jennifer by the way, but lately he’ll mention issues they’re having and how frustrating she can be sometimes. I get the impression that Mike’s job is really stressful, he’s like some sort of salesman, and it sounds like Jennifer is never very appreciative of how hard he works to support their family.
And so in addition to talking more openly about his marriage and how it’s not going that well, he recently also started talking about how much he wanted to meet up with me in real life. At first it was just causal comments about how nice it’d be to finally be able to hug and laugh in person, but then that progressed to discussing how logistically we could actually do it, like the where and the when of how we could actually get together.
Eventually, we settled on an idea where I could drive to meet him somewhere close, but not too close to where I live, while he pretended to take a work trip so he’d be in the clear to spend a few days away from home. He’s stressed from the beginning that there would never be any pressure for me to stay, and that I could always leave and drive home if I wanted, and that definitely puts me at ease knowing I have that option.
So to be totally honest, I really have no clue what to expect tonight and possibly over the next few days. Again, you probably think I’m naive, but I obviously have some basic idea of how guys think, and there’s definitely the possibility that Mike might want to, or is even expecting to have sex with me. He does know that I’ve never so much as kissed a boy before, and he specifically mentioned in regards to this trip, that he would never want to pressure me or rush me into anything physical, but he could just be saying that to be nice.
I’m pretty sure that if given the choice, I’d prefer to take things at a slower pace. I mean, if I get to this Applebee’s and Mike turns out to be everything I’m hoping he is, then I’d be so happy just to kiss and make out with him. That in itself would be amazing. But look, I’m not a prude, so if he really, really, wants to do more than kiss, then I’m sure there’s a chance I’ll be okay with that too. I’m definitely a people-pleaser at heart, so it if gets to the point where Mike wants to take things further, then I already know I’m going to have a hard time saying no, especially if I can tell that it would make him so happy for me to say yes.
But believe me, there’s also the possibility that when he finally sees me in person, he’ll change his mind and not want to be with me at all! So suffice to say, there are a lot of different possible ways for this trip to unfold, so I think instead of potentially worrying about all of them, I should probably not worry about any of them, and instead try to focus on letting things play out how they do.
Okay, I’m getting close! 5 miles to my exit. Or should I say our exit? Will this Applebee’s become some sort of a sacred landmark if our relationship ends up taking off? I could see that happening.
Eek, what am I doing? I’m getting way ahead of myself when I literally just said I wasn’t going to do that. Becca, just stay calm, focus on trying to be normal, and let’s see what happens.
Okay here’s the exit. And there’s the Applebee’s! I can see it from here. I do my best not to crash my car making these last two turns into the restaurant’s parking lot. I turn off the engine and take a deep breath. Hoooo-boy. This is it.
Mike said he’d be wearing a red t-shirt and a red baseball cap, so he should be pretty easy to spot with all that red. On the flip side, that means I should also know pretty quickly if he didn’t show up. I had given him a heads up that I’d be wearing black yoga pants and a light blue top, so hopefully he’ll be on the lookout for me as well.
I get out of my car, make sure to lock it since my suitcase is still in the trunk, and I start walking towards the main entrance of the restaurant. I go through a pair of heavy wooden doors and right inside there’s a hostess stand. I instantly scour the room looking for Mike. Please let him be here. I’m going to feel like such an idiot if he’s… oh my god there he is! And he sees me! He just waved.
I blow right past the hostess and hurry over to see him. Mike’s sitting in a booth next to a window and he stands up to greet me. After practically jogging over to where he is, I kind of awkwardly stop in my tracks about 4 feet short of him. We both pause and just look each other up and down but don’t say a word. The very first thought that enters my mind after seeing him, is that he’s really good-looking. Like super handsome… and fit! Like really in-shape.
Mike (with such a genuine smile): “Wow. Becca. I can’t believe you’re actually here.”
Me (quietly): “Me neither.”
Mike then opens his arms and moves in super slowly as if he’s suggesting we hug, but leaving it up to me. I don’t have any objection so I reciprocate the motion and we come together for a very brief and innocent embrace.
Mike (gesturing to the booth opposite from where he was sitting): “Here, have a seat!”
I sit, and holy cow, this is nuts. This is so much more real than it’s ever felt before. If the first thing I noticed about Mike is that he’s handsome, I’m pretty sure the second thing I notice is that he’s old. Not old like a grandpa, but old like a real adult. Like as old as my parents or the parents of my friends. Now granted, he’s a lot better looking than any of my friends’ dads, but boy is this going to take some getting used to. I’ve obviously had plenty of crushes over the years, most of whom were close to my own age, and while there has been an occasional teacher to garner my attention, I think the oldest person I’ve ever had a real crush on was probably 25 at most.
Mike (still kind of beaming): “I’m so glad you came. I’m gonna be honest, I was really worried you were gonna have second thoughts and not show up.”
Me: “I was worried you were gonna be the one to back out!”
Mike: “Oh my god, no. I’ve been looking forward to this for forever.”
At that moment, a waitress comes up to our table. The first thing she does is hand me one of their large book-like menus, but I can’t help but notice that she’s also carrying a paper kids menu. Is that because she wasn’t sure how old I am?
Regardless, she asks me if I would like anything to drink, and I let her know I’m fine with just water. She then asks Mike if he would like another, as he appears to have a glass with only a few sips of beer left. Mike confirms he would, and the waitress departs.
Mike: “Hope it’s okay I’m having a couple of beers. I promise I’m not a huge drinker or anything that you would have to worry about. But it’s sure helping me with the nerves.”
Mike laughs kind of nervously, but meanwhile I’m preoccupied tracking where the waitress goes next to see if she has someone else, like an actual child, who she’s planning on delivering that kids menu to.
Mike (I’m sure wondering why I seem annoyed all of the sudden): “I don’t have to have another beer if you’d prefer I didn’t.”
Me: “Oh no, that’s fine. But did you see that just now? What the waitress had in her hands?”
Mike (confused): “The menus?”
Me: “Yeah. The kids menu. She brought both a regular menu and a kids menu to me, and I’m pretty sure it’s because she wasn’t sure which one I would want.”
Mike (seeming relieved): “Oh don’t sweat that one bit. Even if that was the case, once she saw you, she ended up giving you the adult menu without even asking.”
Me: “I know. But she had a box of crayons.”
Me (repeating myself with a mix of humor and a little bit of faux outrage): “A box of crayons!”
Mike (full on laughing now): “Well yeah, how else would we have been able to work on the maze?!?”
I can’t help but laugh at that.
Me: “I guess I’m just tired of looking like a child. Or more specifically, being treated like a child.”
Mike then reaches across the table and takes both of my hands into his. I know we briefly hugged when I first arrived, but this feels like our first real moment of physical contact. Which after three years of getting to know someone virtually, is a pretty big deal.
But just as quickly as it begins, Mike’s touch is gone as he immediately withdraws his hands after just a brief second or two.
Mike (seeming a little panicky): “Sorry. I probably shouldn’t do that.”
I’m not sure if I did something wrong or if Mike just had second thoughts about holding my hands. Either way, I’m too confused to say anything.
Mike (more quietly than he’s been talking): “Becca, trust me when I say this… you are so absolutely perfect just the way you are. I would not change one single thing about you if I could. You’re amazing.”
I have to admit, Mike seems so sincere that it’s hard to conclude he’s saying that just to be nice. But could he really mean what he just said? That I’m perfect and amazing? Because it doesn’t really make any sense.
Look, I know I’m not hideous. I definitely wasn’t the ugliest girl in my school, but I also know I wasn’t the prettiest. Or anywhere close to the prettiest. Honestly, if I had to pick one word to describe my appearance, it would be ‘invisible’. I mean, I told you that story about Cole in my art class not knowing my name. That right there was my whole high school experience wrapped in a nutshell.
Now every once in a blue moon I would get some hint of attention from a boy, but without fail it would be someone I had absolutely zero interest in myself. I don’t want to be mean, but it’s not like I got attention from some nice guy who just wasn’t very popular. That, I might’ve been interested in pursuing. But instead, the few times I did find out some boy liked me, it would always be someone either really annoying, really creepy, or in some cases, both!
So when I see someone like Mike, who’s handsome and has a real life, claiming to be interested in me, it’s really hard not to question why. I mean of all the people to think I’m amazing, why would it be someone really good looking who already has a wife and a successful career, when all the boring, single, mediocre boys at my school would never even give me a second look?
Mike (probably sensing something is off with me): “Sorry if that was a little too forward.”
Me: “No. That was very nice of you to say.”
Mike: “Why do you look so worried then?”
Me: “Why do you like me?”
Mike (clearly taken aback by my question): “Why do I like you??”
Me (clarifying): “Yeah, why do you seem to like me so much? The boys at my school never seemed to show any interest in me, but then you come along and say these ridiculously nice things about me. It doesn’t make sense, I guess? That’s what has me worried.”
Mike chuckles, and at the same time we both see that our waitress is walking over with my water and his beer.
Mike: “The short answer? The short answer is that the boys at your school were a bunch of goddamn idiots.”
Waitress (while placing our drinks down): “Are you guys ready to order?”
Mike (looking at me): “Have you had a chance to look at your full-grown adult menu?”
Me (smirking because I can’t believe he said that in front of the waitress): “Yeah, I’m ready.”
We both order, as I get the chicken quesadillas and Mike goes for some grilled chicken dish with steamed vegetables as his side. It seems noteworthy just for how grown up and healthy it sounds. The waitress takes our menus and heads off to put in our order.
Mike: “Okay, you want the long answer?”
Me (smiling): “I would love the long answer.”
Mike: “Boys at your age are very susceptible to both prejudice and peer pressure. Now, it wasn’t that long ago that you still had your braces on, right?”
Me: “Yeah, I finally got them off like a year and a half ago.”
Mike: “Now I’m sure you were cute even with a mouth full of metal… but you probably weren’t anything close to what you are now. I mean, this young lady who’s in front of me today? She’s stunning.”
I have to hand it to him. His compliments do make me feel so good.
Mike (continuing his explanation): “But the boys in your school didn’t see it. And it’s probably because they had already made up their minds years ago who was hot and who wasn’t. And so they’re stuck in this prejudiced mindset were absent of some new jock showing up to school and being like, ‘You know what? That Becca chick is hot! Who’s she dating?’ there’s no way to break them out of their old mindset that simply didn’t think you were anything special. But that whole time, I know for a fact you were slowly and surely becoming the gorgeous and beautiful girl you are now. But fuck them. It’s their loss.”
Me (feeling like I’m probably blushing): “Thanks. That’s really nice of you to say.”
Mike: “And believe me, I know where you’re coming from. I really struggled in high school. Like really struggled.”
As Mike is saying this, I realize that in the grand scheme of things, my experience of feeling invisible in school probably wasn’t that bad compared to how some other kids end up getting treated.
Mike (continuing on): “I was a big kid. Like not just overweight, but obese. And so I got picked on a lot. And as you might imagine, I didn’t have any luck whatsoever with the girls.”
Me: “Oh Mike, I’m so sorry. I’m sure you were such a sweet kid and didn’t deserve that.”
Mike: “And so I was a complete and total virgin for a long time. A really long time. I had to wait until I was 25 years old until I had my first kiss, and I didn’t have sex until I was 28.”
This time I reach out and I take Mike’s hands, and I give them a little squeeze. He quietly says thanks, but then retreats his hands back.
Mike: “And so there are two things going on here as to why I like you so much. Like really, really like you. The first is that I look at you and I think back to when I was your age, and how I never would’ve had a prayer of a chance with a girl like you.”
That comment somehow makes me feel both good and bad at the same time.
Mike: “But the second part, and this is probably going to make me sound creepy… but I actually really like how innocent you are? Like it’s a huge turn on for me. When I finally did lose my virginity, as you would expect, the girl I lost it to wasn’t a virgin like I was. In fact, she had quite a bit of experience. And since then, any other women I’ve ended up having sex with, which granted has not been a lot, but all the way up to and including my wife Jennifer, they all had way more experience than I did. And so whenever I first had sex with someone, it always felt like I was pretty clueless, like I didn’t know what I was supposed to be doing, at least compared to them.”
Now Mike actually sticks his hands back out across the table, and I’m happy to place my fingers in his palms.
Mike (seeming to come to a conclusion): “And so as much as they taught me, I’ve always dreamt about finding an adorable, sweet, and innocent girl who I could return that favor too. Who I could teach everything that I now know about sex, and get to watch her learn and experience everything for the very first time. It’s like the biggest fantasy I’ve ever had in my life, and oh my fucking god, Becca, there is no one I could possibly imagine more perfect for this role than you.”
Wow. As Mike finishes his explanation, and the two of us stare into each other’s eyes, all I can think about is how his rationale actually makes a lot of sense. I honestly was very skeptical about all of this, of how genuine his praise for me could actually be, but I think I get it. I can totally see where he’s coming from.
Just then our food arrives, and I don’t think either one of us saw the waitress approaching until she’s already in the process of placing our plates down on the table. And while we had still been holding hands when she got here, as soon Mike sees her, he immediately yanks his hands away, yet again. I think at this point, it’s safe to assume he’s self-conscious about people thinking we’re ‘together’. As far as I know, I don’t think we’re anywhere close to where he lives, so I don’t think it’s because he’s married. But maybe it’s our age difference that has him worried instead? Either way, I decide to just let it be and not ask.
The food looks great and I’m pretty hungry, so I dig right in. And while I initially start eating my quesadilla with just my hands, I realize that Mike is obviously using a knife and fork for his chicken and vegetables, so I quickly wipe my fingers off in my napkin and switch to using utensils as well.
Mike (noticing and chuckling): “Becca, you can definitely use your hands if you want. Believe me, I am not here to judge anything about you.”
Me: “Ok, good. Thanks. I think I will switch back, ha. So anyway, I have to ask… if you were overweight growing up, how did you end up getting into such great shape, like you are now?”
Mike (gesturing down at his meal): “Part of it is this. I mean, I would love to have ordered the cheeseburger and fries, but instead I’m eating this much more sensible meal, which honestly isn’t bad, but it definitely isn’t a burger.”
Me: “So you eat pretty healthy I take it? I’m guessing my quesadilla wouldn’t qualify, ha.”
Mike: “Oh Becca, you deserve to eat whatever you want. I mean look at you, do you even weigh a hundred pounds?”
Me: “Ha. Usually.”
Mike: “Usually?”
Me: “Yeah, depending on the day I probably weigh between like 99 and 102. So yeah, most days I do weigh at least a hundred.”
Mike: “Well you are just the cutest, sexiest, one hundred pound package on Earth, so if eating quesadillas is what got you to this point, then by all means keep eating those quesadillas!”
I think I stopped listening after I heard the word ‘sexy’ in there. I don’t think he’s ever used that word to describe me, either in all of our past chatting online or in the short time we’ve been here at the restaurant. I know he’s used ‘cute’ and ‘adorable’ a ton, but I’m pretty sure he’s never called me sexy.
Mike: “But yeah it’s tough for me sometimes. Donuts are my big weakness. You know those standard glazed Krispy Kreme ones? Fuck, I could eat a dozen of those in one sitting if you let me. But I know how bad I’d feel both physically and mentally if I did.”
Mike (continuing on): “You know it’s weird, part of what keeps me disciplined is actually the process of denying myself something that I want. It’s like I almost enjoy seeing, but not having something really, really good. I think I must be some sort of masochist. And so with food and other stuff too, I’ve almost come to relish the experience of denying myself pleasurable things for some reason. It’s pretty strange, I know.”
Me (laughing): “Ha. That is definitely not me. I love dessert too much and I am terrible about not eating it when I probably shouldn’t.”
Mike (smiling): “Again, if it ain’t broke… don’t fix it.”
Me: “Well I think it’s great that you’re eating healthy, but you of all people should definitely get to have what you want. At least some of the time!”
Mike (smiling): “With you here at this table, I am getting everything I wanted!”
Oh man, he is so sweet, and all I can think about is how well this is going so far. I love that Mike’s happy, and it’s even better that I’m the one who’s making him feel this way!
Me (still curious about Mike’s amazing transformation): “So how is that you’re in such super good shape though. Do you exercise a lot? And what about the rest of your family, are they as into being fit as you are?”
Mike: “Yeah, exercising is the other half of the equation, and I try to be just as diligent about that as I am with what I eat. Regarding Jennifer, you know it’s funny, she used to be really health conscious, like she was definitely in better shape than I was when we first got married. But lately, like the last few years, we’ve been going in exact opposite directions. I’ve been exercising more, while she’s been getting more and more unhealthy both in how she eats and how she’s not very active anymore. Sorry if that’s kind of a harsh statement.”
Me: “No, no it’s not. I can see how that would be frustrating or worrisome.”
Mike: “And it’s not just a sex appeal issue. Well, part of it definitely is, as she used to be so much prettier when she was in shape… and younger. But part of it is just a health thing. I want her to be healthy, you know?”
Me: “Yeah, that totally makes sense. What about your kids, do they play sports and stuff? And how old are they again?”
Mike: “My stepson is going into 7th grade, and my stepdaughter is starting high school in the fall, so she’s going into 9th. And yeah, they’re both pretty active from the various sports they play.”
Me: “That’s great. I really haven’t played any sort of organized sports since I was like 8 years old and played soccer. What sports does your daughter play?”
Mike (correcting me): “Stepdaughter. But you know, I kinda don’t wanna talk too much about my family if that’s okay?”
Me: “Oh. Yeah of course. That’s totally fine. Sorry.”
Mike (reassuringly): “Oh it’s totally fine. It’s just with me being married and all, as great as it is to be here with you, I can’t help but feel a little bit guilty, you know?”
Me: “Yeah, me too. I know what you mean.”
Mike: “But hey, speaking of doing things we’re not supposed to be doing… ha. So here’s the deal… and I just want you to know that if you’re not comfortable with any of this, just let me know and you can always head home anytime you want. But anyway… I got us a room over across the street there at the Residence Inn. I picked one with two queens, just so you could have your own bed if you wanted.”
With Mike mentioning the hotel room now, it’s like things are starting to feel real. I get hit with a rush of nervousness right in the pit of my stomach. It’s definitely not negative, like a feeling of dread, but it’s not really a positive feeling of excitement either. It’s just extreme nervousness in a completely neutral sort of way. Everything’s felt so calm and safe so far, but now I’m realizing that was almost certainly due to us being in this public space. Once we get into the privacy of that hotel room, I really have no idea what to expect. But I want to go, and I want to find out. I may be nervous about what comes next, but there’s no way I came this far just to back out now.
Me: “Okay… that sounds good. Should we head over there?”
Mike (grinning ear to ear): “Easy there. We still have to pay the bill. But I love your enthusiasm. Love it.”
Ah yes, I had completely forgotten that Applebee’s isn’t complimentary. My mind is a little jumbled right now to say the least.
Me (while taking out my wallet): “I can definitely pay for my meal.”
Mike (quickly): “Oh absolutely not. I wouldn’t dream of it. I’ve got you covered for as long as you decide to stay here with me.”
But then I see Mike looking at my unfolded wallet.
Mike (pointing): “Can I see your ID?”
Me (not thinking much of the request): “Sure.”
So I hand him my drivers license, and then I realize that maybe that wasn’t the safest thing to do?
Me (with a hint of worry): “Are you looking at my home address?”
Mike (very apologetically): “Oh I’m so sorry, no I wasn’t. I didn’t even think about that. I was actually looking at your picture. And to be honest, I was looking at your birthdate. Not that I don’t trust you, but you know…”
Me: “You think I might’ve lied when I told you it was my birthday?”
Mike (clarifying): “I just wanted to confirm that you really are 18… as you know, it’s kind of important to say the least.”
Me: “Ah okay. Yep, I promise I really am 18.”
Mike (smiling): “And not to defend the waitress here, but I have to say you do look really, really, young.”
Me (smiling now too): “Hey, but I definitely don’t look like I’m 10 or 12 or whatever the kids menu is for!”
Mike (laughing): “Ha, yeah fair enough. 15 or 16 maybe.”
Me (laughing now too): “Well sorrrr-eeeeee. It’s not like it’s something I can control.”
Mike: “Oh no, no, you do not need to apologize.”
Mike (quietly and slowly, almost as if he’s speaking to himself): “It. Is. Not. A bad. Thing. At all…”
Mike finishes paying for our meal, and he asks if we should head out. I confirm that I’m as ready as I’ll ever be, so we walk out of Applebee’s and drive our cars separately from the restaurant’s parking lot to the hotel parking lot right across the street. I follow Mike and park my car next to his.
He offers to carry my small suitcase in for me, so he grabs that and leads us to his room on the first floor. As he opens the door, I can see there are in fact two queen beds off in the bedroom, but more impressively the hotel room has both a kitchen and a whole living room area! I haven’t stayed in a ton of hotels in my life, but this seems to be a really big suite.
Mike (welcoming me in): “Well… here we are.”
I kind of stand in one spot, peering around while checking everything out. Mike carries my suitcase into the bedroom and places it on one of the two beds. Then he comes back into the living room, walks up to me and takes my hands into his, interlocking our fingers while looking down at me. My heart rate instantly doubles.
I’m not very tall, like 5’2″, and Mike is at least average height for a male, if not slightly above, so there’s a pretty big discrepancy between our eye levels.
Mike (lifting all four of our hands up to be between our chests): “I’m so sorry I didn’t hold your hands more at the restaurant. I really wanted to. I’m just paranoid. Don’t think for a second that I was ashamed or embarrassed or something. I just think that some people might not understand.”
I figured that was the case, but it’s still nice to hear. More importantly though, it sure seems like something’s about to happen. I’m too frozen to move or say anything though, so I continue to peer up at this handsome, 45-year-old married man who for whatever reason, really seems to like me.
After what feels like forever, but was probably only like 10 to 15 seconds of us looking into each other’s eyes, Mike releases my left hand and brings his fingers up to gently move a few strands of my hair off of my cheek and behind my left ear. It feels so intense to have him touch me, even if it’s just on my face.
Mike then sighs audibly, and continues moving his hand down past my ear until it slowly travels the full length of my neck, and in the process pushes my medium length light brown hair back behind my shoulder. With my hair now out of the way, his fingers retrace their steps back up my neck and slowly dance around, sending a shiver down my spine.
Mike (quietly): “Oh my god, Becca… your skin is just flawless. It’s so smooth and young and perfect… I’ve just never been able to actually touch skin like this before.”
Mike is talking, but all I can do is stare at his lips. I don’t even process what he’s saying because I’m so preoccupied wondering if he’s going to kiss me or not.
Mike (continuing on): “And if your face and neck are this precious, then my god… I can’t even imagine how amazing some of your other parts must be.”
Oh just kiss me Mike. I want my first kiss.
My telepathic messages finally seem to get through, as Mike then lets go of my right hand and with his two hands now free, he uses both of them to take ahold of my face. He slides his ten fingers across my two cheeks until they settle in amongst my ears and hair, resting firmly on each side of my jaw. His extremely strong hands now have complete control of my head, and it feels like he can basically do anything he wants to me from this position.
Of course I want him to kiss me, but instead he just looks at me. First into my eyes, but then down at my lips. Then back up at my eyes. My heart is absolutely pounding with anticipation as he continues to hold my head in a vice-like grip. Finally I can’t take it any more.
Me (struggling to speak with his hands on my jaw): “Can you kiss me?”
Mike (having been snapped out of his trance by my question): “Oh shit. Of course! Sorry I was just doing that thing where I was teasing myself of something I wanted so badly, but I completely forgot it was affecting you too!”
And then he moves right in and his lips meet mine. Even though I knew it was coming, it still feels so shocking and surprising. The sensation of his warm mouth on my lips feels nothing at all like the times I had practiced kissing on the inside of my elbow, or my dolls, or any other pathetic attempt I had experimented with when I was younger and by myself. This feels waaaaaaay better.
Our initial kiss lasts for a few glorious seconds, and then Mike leads us into what must be the next step towards making out. I don’t really know, as I’m just kind of along for the ride here. But anyways, his hands move off of my jaw, and one goes to the back of my neck, while the other starts softly caressing my cheek. He also changes the way he’s kissing me, as instead of his closed mouth pressing against mine, he slowly opens his mouth to force my lips apart. He then applies a little more pressure, and the next thing I know his tongue is running along the outside of my teeth. It’s a really wild sensation.
I feel like I should do something with my hands, so I reach up high and grab the back of his head, and run my fingers through his short, course, cappuccino colored hair. My other hand moves around to his back and grasps on to one of his muscular shoulders.
With all four of our hands now caressing each other, our kiss has definitely turned into full on making out. Mike presses his tongue past my teeth and now has it completely inside of my mouth, which causes me to react that only way I know how, by pushing back with my own tongue in sort of a self-defense mechanism. This tongue-on-tongue contact is without a doubt the weirdest sensation yet, but once we settle in where our tongues are dancing right where our lips meet, everything starts feeling a lot more sustainable and downright pleasurable. I feel like we’re kissing like real adults! I just hope I’m doing it right.
In addition to our full-on french kissing, our bodies are now pressed against each other too. Mike’s so big and muscular, that he makes me feel tiny, but in a good way. His back, his arms, his hands… they’re all so strong. And with his limbs around me, it’s pretty clear he has total control over me and my body right now, but I kind of like it.
When I was driving here alone, I felt both nervous and a little scared. But with everything going as well as it has so far, I don’t feel the least bit worried anymore. In fact it’s kind of the opposite, as I feel so safe and protected being in Mike’s arms, knowing that I have someone who’s both strong and responsible looking out for me. I know Mike’s going to take care of me, and it makes me feel like I don’t have to worry about anything as long as I’m with him.
As we continue to hold each other and make out, I think about how I don’t want this to ever end. But then Mike pulls his lips away from my mouth, and crouches down a little and starts lovingly kissing my neck. I didn’t realize this could get even better, but holy cow does this feel amazing. There’s a hint of ticklishness from the sensation, but it’s still extremely pleasurable. While he’s kissing me like this, I open my eyes and look off above his head and into the bedroom. I see my suitcase sitting on the perfectly made bed in there, and the thought crosses my mind, is it only a matter of time until we end up moving to that bed?
I know my intention was to take things slowly, but I have to admit that I can’t imagine saying no to pretty much anything Mike would suggest right now. This all has been so wonderful, that why would I want it to stop? He’s kissing me right now, and it feels so good, not just on the spot of my neck where his lips are, but everywhere. I feel so warm, so safe, and yeah I’ll admit it, so turned on. I can feel it in my legs, and even in my crotch. My whole body is ready and willing.
Mike then pulls back from my neck, returns to kissing me on the lips, and at the same time I feel both of his hands press in on my back and quickly slide down and inside not just my yoga pants, but also my underwear, too. Wow, I was not expecting that!
His hands clamp down and forcefully grab my two bare butt cheeks, and in the process he pulls my pelvis into his.
Mike (while pulling out of our kiss and looking up at the ceiling): “Oh fuck!”
I don’t know what to make of this, as even though I had just mentioned how I was willing to do whatever he wants, this seems a little bit intense and rough. His hands are squeezing me so tight right now, I’m sure they’re leaving marks.
Mike (while dramatically exhaling): “Oh my god… your tiny little ass is so fucking amazing.”
He’s not just forcefully holding my cheeks in place, as he’s also actively massaging them while stretching them apart and then back together, and in the process he’s even tugging a little bit on my vagina. It’s certainly unlike anything I’ve ever felt before, and even though he isn’t making direct contact with my privates down there, I feel like it’s the first time anyone has ever touched my crotch.
Finally after a fair amount of thorough kneading, I feel his grasp relax a little while he simultaneously pulls back from my face. This allows us to actually see each other, albeit at very close range.
Mike (looking right into my eyes): “Oh my god, Becca… you have no idea how bad I wanna just yank your stretchy pants down to your ankles, push you down onto that couch over there, and then lift your feet up and pin your legs behind your head using your outstretched pants. Fuuuuuuck…”
Ummm… where did that come from?!? That’s definitely more intense than I’m comfortable with. I’m assuming he’s just kidding though, right? I hope?
Mike (seeming to correct himself): “But I know that wouldn’t be right. The responsible thing is for us to slow down, or maybe even slam on the brakes. At least for tonight.”
What is going on?? I guess stopping is better than the alternative with the pushing and the pinning of my legs, but these seem like two very extreme opposites! Why can’t there be a happy compromise somewhere in the middle, like where we just keep making out?!?
I don’t want to stop everything, because I really love how we were just french kissing. I mean, if he really wanted me to pull my pants down, as unnerving as that sounds, I would probably do it if he just asked nicely. But right now I’m too frozen with confusion to question anything he’s saying.
Me (very timidly): “Okay?”
Mike (chuckling): “Okay. I think that makes sense. I was getting a little too into it if you couldn’t tell. Ha.”
Mike’s disposition seems to switch gears completely, as if all of that, the making out, the butt grabbing, and then the comment about wanting to pin my legs behind my head was just totally normal and no big deal. I, on the other hand, am still trying to process the order of events and what it all means.
But Mike has apparently already moved on, as he starts walking over to the kitchen to make himself a drink. He gets a glass, adds some ice, and then pours a little bit of liquor into it.
Mike (politely): “Can I make you a vodka soda? Sorry I don’t have anything else but I can definitely get whatever you would want for tomorrow.”
Me: “Oh, I’m okay. But thank you.”
I guess all of that before was just Mike getting a little worked up from being so horny? I mean, it’s a good thing that he was getting turned on by me, right? And in his defense, he did end up stopping himself, so that’s good. If I’m being honest, I don’t really have any experience whatsoever with guys and sex and foreplay, so maybe this is actually pretty typical?
Mike (inquisitively): “So do you drink much?”
Me (still a little disconnected from what just happened): “Oh… not really.”
Me (completely lying now for some reason): “I mean like sometimes I’ll have a sip of my mom’s wine from time to time.”
Mike: “Oh, I thought you said your parents didn’t drink?”
The truth is they don’t drink, like at all, and now I’m realizing the downside to having someone who actually listens to everything I say in our chats. Darn it.
Me (trying to save face): “Yeah it’s definitely not too often, but on occasion they do.”
Me (desperately thinking of something else to say, so I continue on with my web of lies): “Yeah sometimes with my friends I’ll have like a White Claw or two. But never more than that.”
Mike: “Okay nice. We can definitely pick up some White Claw for you tomorrow, then.”
Me (with no idea what else I can say): “Ha. Okay… great.”
Mike then brings over his vodka drink and an ice water he made for me. We settle into the living room couch and start watching a little television. Any minor concern or apprehension I had a few moments ago with his behavior is now safely in the rear view mirror, as he snuggles me up and it feels so nice to have his arm around me. He occasionally adds in sweet little kisses, and I try my best to get him to linger and start making out for real like we were before, but to no avail.
Eventually, it’s after 10 o’clock and Mike actually suggests we should get ready for bed. He asks if I would like to have the bathroom first, and I accept the offer and head over to get some things out of my suitcase. I grab my bag of toiletries, and then I bring a t-shirt and a pair of pajama shorts for me to change into as well.
Once in the bathroom, the first thing I do is sit down to pee. As I pull down my underwear though, I can’t help but immediately notice how shockingly messy they are. It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen before.
Now I understand how my body works, and I’m familiar with the idea that when I’m aroused I can leak down there. But I’ve just never seen it like this. The entire inside of my underwear’s crotch is covered in mucus! It’s as if I had had a bad cold and had no other choice but to use my underwear as a tissue and just blew the biggest snot-filled sneeze into them. Sorry if that’s a ridiculously gross visual, but that’s exactly what it looks like! But instead of being filled with snot, it’s my vaginal secretions. It’s pretty gross.
So after seeing this, and even before I start to pee, I grab some toilet paper and give my vagina a pretty thorough wiping to clean it up. Only then can I actually start relieving myself, after which I obviously give myself an additional wipe before standing up.
As I pull my underwear up, I get a cold shock from all that mucusy wetness that’s still there coming back into contact with my crotch. I realize I probably should’ve brought a different pair of underwear into the bathroom to change into, or at the very least wiped them out with some toilet paper a second ago. But I figure it’s too late now so I’ll just tough it out at this point.
So I keep the same messy pair of undies on, but I change into my t-shirt and comfy shorts. And after taking my time brushing my teeth, flossing, and moisturizing my face, I finally head back out into the bedroom. Mike is sitting casually on the bed that doesn’t have my suitcase on it, and he’s reading something on his phone. I’m definitely jealous that he’s able to use his phone!
Mike (looking up): “All done in there?”
Me: “Yep. Thanks for waiting.”
Mike hops up and then immediately takes his shirt off. He then casually unbuttons his jeans, slides them off and removes his socks. He does it all so nonchalantly, but now he’s standing here in just his underwear. The only thing stopping him from being completely naked in front of me is a pair of shiny black boxer briefs that are extremely snug to his thighs and his privates. I’ve obviously seen plenty of boys and men in bathing suits before, and probably even a Speedo on rare occasion, but Mike’s underwear seems to be more revealing and leave less to the imagination than any male piece of clothing I’ve ever seen.
But the bulge in his crotch isn’t the only thing that has my attention, as I also can’t help but stare at his upper body muscles. Not only is his chest really well defined, but he has legitimate ab muscles, like a six-pack! Looking at him now, it’s so hard to believe he used to be overweight when he was my age. I mean he basically looks like a fitness model! But as sexy and attractive as his body is, seeing him like this makes me worry that he’s going to be disappointed with my body, if and when he sees me get undressed. I know I’m not fat by any means, but I don’t have much muscle tone or any curves to speak of. Not to mention that I think his chest is bigger than mine is!
But that’s a worry for another day (tomorrow maybe?) as Mike heads to the bathroom to finish getting himself ready for bed. We never really discussed it, but it sure seems like we’re sleeping in separate beds tonight, so I go ahead and move my suitcase to the floor and get in under the covers of the bed that Mike wasn’t in. It’s really comfortable, which is a nice, unexpected treat I hadn’t even thought of. But this also makes me think about how I’m sure my parents have gotten home and found my note by now, but without my phone, I have no way of knowing how they’re reacting. I hope they’re not completely flipping out, but I have to assume they probably are. Even if that’s the case, I can’t say I have any regrets, because I’m as sure as ever that this is something I had to do. I hope someday they’ll understand that, but I’m guessing they never will.
Mike comes out of the bathroom and walks over to me where I’m sitting up in my bed. He’s still in just his undies, so as he approaches I get the most up close view of his body yet. I give him a quick up and down, but I try to sneak in a little extended look at his crotch without making it too obvious. I’m pretty sure I end up failing though, as Mike seems to chuckle in amusement at my not so subtle curiosity. But after his little laugh, he leans down for another kiss.
I’m excited for the chance to lock lips again, so I perk up to meet him halfway. His mouth touches mine, and in addition to the taste of freshly brushed teeth, I’m also hit with the wonderfully weird sensation of his tongue again. I was definitely missing that during our little smooches on the couch!
We keep kissing for a few seconds, but then I feel Mike start to pull back just a little. I don’t want this feeling to end, so I react by reaching out with both hands, one to the back of his head and the other to his naked back, trying desperately to keep him close. This seems to buy me an extra second or two of making out, but then Mike retreats for real, ending our lock and leaving me with both my hands and my tongue extended, pathetically looking for more.
Mike (with a big genuine smile): “I love kissing you.”
Me (looking up meekly at him): “I really, really, love you too.”
Oh crap!
Me (quickly correcting myself); “I mean ‘it’, not you! I love kissing you, too.”
Mike laughs sweetly, but oh god I can’t believe I just said that! I can’t believe I accidentally told him that I love him! Oh my god I’m so pathetic and lame.
But as mortifying as that was, Mike seems to take it totally in stride, as he heads back over to his bed and climbs up and under his own covers. He then grabs the remote and turns on the tv. Once the light from the television becomes apparent, he switches off the bedroom light and now the hotel room is completely dark, save for the tv guide channel glowing on the screen.
Mike (who is also now sitting up in his bed): “So what do you think we should do tomorrow, Becca?”
The question kind of catches me off guard, but I assume he’s talking about what sort of an activity we could do? I guess I had spent so much time and effort thinking and worrying about the physical aspects of our meeting up, that I hadn’t really considered how spending five days together would give us a ton of free time to fill, too!
Me (trying to sound agreeable): “Hmmmm, I’m up for whatever?”
Mike: “Do you like bowling? Or miniature golf? Or we could go see a movie?”
Me: “Oh wow, those all sound great. I like all of those really.”
Mike: “Fantastic. We’ll figure it out then, but I’m really looking forward to tomorrow. It should be a fun day.”
I turn and smile because I completely agree.
Mike (looking at the television while holding the remote): “What would you like to watch?”
Me: “Oh whatever you want. I’m pretty tired so I’ll probably fall asleep in a shockingly short amount of time anyway, so you should definitely choose whatever you want.”
Mike (chuckling): “Okay, well I may just put on a baseball game if that’s alright with you.”
Me: “Yeah of course. Go for it.”
And with that, I scoot down under my covers and rest my head on the pillow looking away from Mike, but towards the room’s wall that has a single generic painting of a barn on it. I can hear the baseball game on the tv playing in the background, but it’s pretty much just white noise to me. I close my eyes and think about how insane it is that I’m here right now. I mean, I can’t believe I actually did this! I drove almost two hours to come meet a man who in some aspects is basically my best friend, but in another way is also a complete stranger. And not only did I meet up with him, but we made out a bunch and now I’m sleeping in his hotel room! This is definitely the most grown up thing I’ve ever done in my life.
As I continue to lie in this amazingly soft and comfortable bed, I realize I do have a little bit of a eensy weensy minor problem though. The way things stand now, I’m almost certainly going to have trouble falling asleep. I’m sure part of it is just how wired I am after all of today’s noteworthy events, but the bigger issue is I kind of have an evening routine that I’m not sure I’m going to be able to pull off, given that Mike is in the room with me right now.
There’s no point in dancing around the issue, so I’ll just come out and say it. Every night before I fall asleep, I have a routine of lying in bed and touching myself. I’ve been doing it forever, and it’s much more of a relaxation sort of thing than it is a sexual release sort of thing or anything. Now, 99% of the time I’ll be in my own bed at home, so I’ll just roll over onto my stomach, rub my clit for a few minutes, bring myself to an orgasm, and be off to dreamland in no time.
But having Mike here complicates all of that. This obviously isn’t the first time I’ve ever had to share a room with someone, and so in those rare cases I always have two options. Either I wait for the other person (or people) to fall asleep, or I just give up and try to go to sleep without the routine. Needless to say, both options usually end up with me staying awake much longer than I’d prefer.
In this case, I have no idea how late Mike is going to be up watching his baseball game, and given how especially on edge I feel right now, I think trying to fall sleep without this release is going to be near impossible. So perhaps this situation actually calls for me to try the third possible option I’ve never previously attempted? The one where I try to silently take care of my business even though the other person is still awake?
I decide to test the waters so to speak, so I quietly transition from lying on my side facing away from Mike, to more of a standard facedown sleeping position, but still with my head pointed at the wall and not the other bed. While repositioning, I try my best to make my movements as subtle as possible so I don’t garner any attention from Mike. I feel like the bed’s comforter is pretty puffy, so that should give me a decent amount of cover, too.
But anyway, now that I’m lying on my stomach, I silently slide my right hand underneath myself while lifting my hips just enough to be able to get my fingers past the waistband of my shorts and into my underwear. And as soon as my fingers reach my lips, they instantly slide into all the wetness that’s still down there. Actually I take that back, as given that I had supposedly just cleaned myself up like 20 minutes ago, this must be brand new lubrication that reappeared after that goodnight kiss from Mike. Holy cow.
Either way, once my soaking wet fingers find my clitoris, a shiver of pure pleasure fires off throughout my entire body. It takes every piece of will power I have to not let out a moan, but I think for the most part I’m able to control myself and successfully keep this wonderful feeling all to myself.
But I keep rubbing, and while normally it would probably take two to three minutes of stimulation to reach an orgasm, I can immediately tell in this instance it’s going to be a lot quicker. Suffice to say, it feels amazing. My eyes are closed and just above the top of my comforter, but my mouth is covered up by the edge of the covers so I can feel my breath being forced back onto me. As this moist, warm air starts collecting around my face, I start circling harder and harder with my middle and ring fingers, and soon enough I reach my peak and begin to come. As my orgasm commences, I take a brief pause from moving my fingers to just savor the anticipation, but then I resume the frantic rubbing of my clit and lips to really maximize the euphoric feeling.
It feels so good, and I can’t help but exhale into my covers. I feel so relieved, and so relaxed, and with everything that’s happened today and tonight, so happy. I remain lying facedown, and I keep my eyes closed as I continue to savor and relish the afterglow of my orgasm. I don’t think I could move if I needed to, so I just leave my hand right where it is, underneath my body and buried in my crotch. I’m sure I could fall asleep like this, and I probably will in just a few minutes.
But then the television suddenly turns off, and I can hear Mike gently place the remote control on the small bedside table between us.
Mike (relatively quietly, but louder than I probably would’ve expected if he thought I might be asleep): “Good night, Becca.”
My eyes instantly pop open and I stare at the barn painting on the wall opposite of Mike’s bed. Oh my god! Did he hear me touching myself? Or could he see my hand moving underneath me? Either way, does he know what I just did? I remain frozen and unable to move a muscle, but this time it’s out of panic, and not relaxation.
What do I do? Do I respond? Or do I pretend like I’m asleep? Oh god, this is so awkward. This is so embarrassing.
Me (unable to come up with any other better response): “Good night.”
I close my eyes, wincing and waiting for him to make a comment about what just happened, but he doesn’t say a word.
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