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As she drove, Dimity let her mind wander to the start of her relationship with Brandon. It was innocent enough at the beginning. She was online, writing a short story and suddenly her IM box appeared. “Hello,” said someone named Tantalize. She quickly clicked on the info button and the profile that came up intrigued her. His name was Brandon and he lived in a city about two hundred miles away. He was unmarried, like her, and worked with the homeless at a city agency. She liked that. She worked in a woman’s shelter, helping those women who finally made the decision to leave their abusive husbands and start over. Much of her job was helping these women build self-esteem and go out into the world, feeling confident and secure. His profile also said that he liked reading, writing and theater, things she held dear. The one thing that convinced her to answer was his personal quote, “When you love somebody, your eyelashes go up and down and little stars come out of you.” She loved that. She typed in “Hi, Brandon, nice to meet you.” Suddenly the screen came alive and it was hours later when Dimity realized how long they had been chatting. He was a comfortable fit for her. They had much in common, including their midwestern upbringing and beliefs. He was a few years older, but she liked that, it made her feel safe and protected. Realizing how late it was, she told Brandon that she had to sign off, but hated to do so. They agreed to meet again the next night and continue their conversation. She typed him a friendly goodbye, and headed to bed, already anticipating tomorrow night.
It seemed they had known each other forever. They met nightly and chatted for hours, sharing tales of childhoods spent learning and loving, teen years full of angst and broken hearts, attaining adulthood and the difficulties involved. The words tumbled out at an amazing rate, as Dimity and Brandon opened their hearts to each other.
In the nights that passed, the discussions moved beyond the superficial to deeply held beliefs and values. Both had come from large families and they had spirited discussions about kids and how they should be raised. They shared many of the same theories on love, marriage and children. They discussed their careers and what they loved about them. They expounded on what was wrong with the government and what should be done to improve the lives of their clients. Slowly, the chats moved into the realm of feelings and dreams and hopes and wishes.
It was amazing how much these evenings meant to Dimity. She looked forward to them almost from the moment they said goodnight. It could make a bad day better, knowing she would be able to tell Brandon all frustrations of her work. It made a good day absolutely fabulous, because, no matter how good a day was, she still had Brandon to look forward to.
One night, Brandon mentioned that it was their one month anniversary, that they had met and become friends exactly one month ago. It touched her deeply that he remembered that fact. As they typed, Brandon said perhaps the time had come to actually talk, if that was all right with her. Dimity paused in her typing, looking at the screen, feeling so many emotions at once. She knew this man, she knew he was good and kind and gentle, and she knew she had nothing to fear from him. She typed her phone number, checking it twice to make sure it was correct. Then with a trembling finger, she pushed enter.
There, on the screen, her phone number appeared. She had never done this before. Occasionally, she would meet someone online who wanted to call, but she always avoided moving to that level. Now it was out there, onscreen, in nearly glowing numbers, inviting Brandon to move with her to that step. “Soon, Dimity,” he typed, then he signed off the computer. She sat there, staring at his words, wondering if she had made a mistake, if this would ruin the friendship she had come to cherish. Then the phone rang.
She slowly answered it, and heard her friend’s voice for the first time. It was deep and even, no particular accent, but very crisp and warm. She immediately relaxed. His voice was just what she had hoped for, even his laugh was one she had heard in her dreams. The conversation took off where kağıthane escort the typing had stopped, and they talked late into the night. Now, saying goodnight took on a whole new meaning.
She was smitten. There was no way to deny it. She spent her days waiting for evening, for her call from Brandon, for her daily fix of his warmth and sweetness. She would come home from work, shower and get comfortable, have dinner and then settle on the couch, waiting for his loving voice to say hello. The conversations moved from work problems to their pasts to their present. Slowly, she opened to him, telling him her fears about love and commitment. He told her of his one failed relationship that made him leery of ever getting involved again. The talk now included how things would be different if they had met at a different point, if they had met in person, if they met now. So, the talk became more in the present, what would change if they met, if they spent time together. It didn’t seem so farfetched or unreal. She felt closer to him than many of her real-time friends. They had exchanged pictures and she found him quite pleasing. She knew she loved his heart, his good soul.
One night, his voice was different. It was lower, softer, more urgent. Brandon told her that he was smitten. He actually used THAT word, HER word. Instead of telling her about his day, he told her about his thoughts of her, the ones that invaded his every waking moment and many of his sleeping ones. She listened to his seductive voice, describing how much he wanted to hold her, feel her, touch her. She could feel him with her, she felt his breath on her skin, his fingers lightly tracing her curves, his body pressed against hers.
Brandon made love to her that night, on the phone. It seemed so natural and right. She felt everything he described, felt the way he touched her so lovingly, so very excitingly. She had never felt the desire he awakened in her, and she loved it. She found herself responding fully to him, her hips moving, her breath short and rapid, her heart pounding. They were HIS fingers finding their way to her curlies, his fingers sliding along her swollen slit, his finger entering her pinkness and finding her aching clit. And when she came, it was his finger touching her exactly right, making her clit alive and throbbing. She came so hard, crying out his name, saying words of love and desire. When her mind returned, when she could hear again, she heard his dear voice, still making love to her. She had never had phone sex before and was amazed at how powerful it was. Now, she talked haltingly of touching him, kissing him, caressing him and giving him pleasure. Brandon was very verbal, assuring her that she was making him very excited. He described his cock for her, telling her how much he liked her fingers slowly massaging him. As she grew braver, Dimity described her movements, she closed her eyes and actually saw Brandon there on the bed with her, saw the way her tiny fingers caressed and stroked him. When he moaned into the phone and called out her name with pleasure, she could almost feel him coming.
Afterwards, they snuggled and Dimity could feel his warm body near hers, could hear his breathing and feel his heart against hers. She felt very complete. Even after saying goodnight, she had no regrets, only anticipation of the next night.
Now, they talked of their days, made love, talked more, and often made love again, falling asleep with each other, holding one another tightly.
The days passed so quickly now, going to sleep with Brandon, waking to his morning call, finding voice mail messages at work, or hearing his voice and sharing coffee break with him. Dimity was in love, she had fallen into him so deeply and easily. Brandon felt the same. The next step loomed before them. Meeting. Brandon brought it up one Monday, just suggesting it to her. He invited Dimity to drive to his city on Friday, and spend the holiday weekend with him. She could stay in the guest room or his bed, whichever seemed most comfortable. They both kept saying, “No expectations”.
Friday morning, Dimity had her bags packed and in her car. She worked a half day and kartal escort then left for her car trip to meet Brandon. So, here she was, driving and reliving her minutes with him, watching herself falling in love with this man. The trip went quickly. His directions were excellent and she arrived at his house in mid-afternoon. The key was where he promised it would be. She opened the door and carried her suitcase into his house. Setting it down by the door, Dimity wandered through the house, looking at the place that housed her love. It was a lovely home, comfortably decorated, not too fussy or too spare. She stood at his bedroom door and looked at the bed where they had shared so many adventures. And she made the decision. She quickly retrieved her suitcase and carried it to his room. She sat primly on his chair, planning her evening.
First, she wanted a shower. She removed her clothes, and folded them neatly on the chair. She entered the master bath, finding a huge tub and decided to soak instead. She clipped her long brown hair up, filled the tub with hot water and sunk into it. Looking around, she whimsically made up scenes of her Brandon in this room. The warmth of the water relaxed her, made her drowsy, her eyes drooping closed. Finally, she summoned the energy to stand and wrap in a towel. Drying her body, feeling the softness of the terry against her aroused skin, brought her to full alertness. She walked back into his bedroom, wondering what she should wear for their first meeting. She opened his closet, finding a row of freshly starched dressed shirts. She slid one from the hanger, loving the crispness of it, the clean scent, the size. She slipped into it, feeling the tails brush her lower thighs, and buttoned it, leaving the top few open. She rolled the sleeves, feeling very tiny and feminine in his clothes. Unclipping her hair, she brushed it until the curls shone, tying back part of it with a shiny blue satin ribbon, letting the rest fall to midback.
Looking in the mirror, she was pleased by her reflection. Her cheeks were flushed from the warm bath and the prospect of being with Brandon. The blue shirt looked adorably large on her, making her look very appealing and desirable. Her bare legs, short as they were, were shapely and nicely tanned. Smiling at herself, she decided to prepare a meal for her sweet Brandon.
Moving again through the house, she found the well-equipped kitchen and opened the fridge. She found all the ingredients for a lovely omelette and put them on the counter. She also found a bottle of wine and removed that too. Dimity poured herself some of the lovely amber liquid. She sipped wine and chopped veggies, making piles of ingredients, ready to prepare her first meal for Brandon when he arrived home. She had turned on the CD player, pleased to find some of her favorites already in place.
She was so happy. She sipped wine and listened to the music, dancing around the kitchen, dreaming of her Brandon and their first romantic night together. Her eyes were closed, the wine making her head light, her hips swaying with Linda Rondstadt and songs of the 40″s. Dimity heard a small noise and opened her eyes, surprised to find Brandon standing near. Her mouth formed a small O as she came face to face with the man she had fallen in love with over the last months. He was tall and well-built, dressed casually in Dockers and a sport shirt. His smile was radiant, his eyes sparkling at her. He stepped forward and put his hands on her arms, just looking at her. Slowly he bent to kiss her, his kiss as delicious as she had hoped, his slightly rough face making her shiver and ache. She fit nicely in his arms, as she knew she would. He held her close, just enjoying the feel of the real Dimity in his arms, at last.
All her well-laid plans fled her mind. No longer did she want to prepare him a nice meal, then spend a quiet evening together, drifting toward bed after hours of talk. All Dimity wanted now was to feel Brandon in all his “realness”, she wanted to touch his chest, his face, his back. She wanted to feel his breath on her, his mouth doing all the things he had described, his cock deep inside her. She couldn’t wait. Her küçükçekmece escort eager fingers helped him undress, his clothes flying from his body, landing in little piles all over the kitchen. Finally, he stood before her in his tight briefs, his erection straining against the cloth. Slowly, Dimity fell to her knees, her fingers hooked in the waistband, pulling the dark fabric down his muscular thighs. His cock sprung out, and she caught her breath. He was lovely. His length and width were perfect, the head already shiny and swollen. As he stepped from his briefs, Dimity allowed herself the first taste of Brandon’s cock. Her shiny lips slid slowly over the head, covering it completely and lightly sucking it into her mouth. Brandon moaned and thrust his hips forward, encouraging her. As her lips slid further, taking the engorged shaft into her depths, Brandon again moaned and called her name. His fingers came down and slipped into her shiny hair. But instead of encouraging her to continue, he pulled her slightly, asking her to stand.
Dimity stood before him, confused, suddenly not sure of herself. Had she done something wrong? Did he not like the feel of her mouth on him? She looked up into his face and saw his tender expression. “Please, my darling Dimity, I can’t wait to feel myself in you, to see your face as I pleasure you. I need you now, here, completely.” He walked to one of the chair and sat down, holding Dimity in front of his knees, his hands on her hips. He slowly began to unbutton the shirt, his shirt, opening it to his gaze, seeing for the first time her lovely naked body. His fingers reached inside, tracing the skin he dreamed about, feeling the softness that was his love. His knuckles grazed her nipples, making her jump and arch her back to him. He touched everywhere, sometimes so gently she felt she imagined it, sometimes demandingly. She could feel herself swelling open, feel the juices running down her thighs, her desire for him building beyond all experience. He pulled her hips, moving her forward, until her legs opened around his thighs and she was straddling him, still standing. She could smell the tangy scent of desire from her body. Her skin ached to be touched, to be quenched of this need building inside her. His mouth was on her nipples, pulling them into his hungry mouth, sucking and licking and nuzzling, his fingers spanning her back and keeping her close. As if she could leave, as if she could move! She could look down and see his cock, straining toward her, her curlies just brushing the head, making it twitch and throb. She stepped forward, the smallest bit, until she was pressed against his chest, his needy cock just below her. Then she lowered her body, adjusting herself for his girth. His cock pressed against her slit for one long second, then moved unerringly into her hot pink. She felt herself settling on him, felt him enter his home, and fill it, felt complete for the first time in her life.
She looked into his face then, and saw the same thing. Contentment. Happiness. He was home. She slowly moved her hips, riding his engorged cock, feeling the way it felt so right inside her. She kissed his mouth, tasted him, inhaled him, her fingers in his hair, her palms on his cheeks. His eyes captivated her. They glowed with such love. His hands held her hips, his fingers sliding under her ass, lifting her, inviting her to the dance they were engaged in so deeply. She rode up and down, feeling the sensations she had only felt with him. Her feet dangled above the floor, and they tingled with excitement and her building orgasm. Her legs became warm as the spasms raced through them, moving to her center, her deepest pink. She felt her pussy grabbing his cock, pulling it even deeper as she wrapped her pink around him and caressed him. He held her against his chest, waiting for her quivering to end. He kissed her deeply and lovingly. Then he began to thrust again, deep and hard and even, his strokes reaching her depths. He looked into her eyes, her loving eyes, and smiled. He came. Hard. Deep. Plentiful. She felt him throbbing inside her, felt the come pouring from him, filling her. She could feel his heart pounding in his chest, nearly saw the throbbing of his excitement. She placed her head against his chest and listened to his heart, his rapid breathing, his sighs of satisfaction. As his breathing returned to normal, his hand caressed her hair, so gentle now, so calm and sated.
Dimity looked up into his face. “I love you” they both said. And smiled.
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