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#55 - incredible sex-chat & Part 8
2001-06-28 @ 10:42 p.m.

wow. that's all i can say, is wow. i just had the most incredible sex-chat with a guy i just met online. i think i'm addicted, but i'll worry about that later. for now, all i can think is wow. for once, i wasn't the one saying more than 3 words at a time. he was so in control, just the way that i like it, making me wait until he was ready to move to the next step. amazing. he'd built it up so much, i had to stop breathing to keep from crying out when i came. yes, this guy actually made me touch myself for the first time since r. it was incredible. he said he would add me to his buddy list, which kinda freaks me out for earlier mentioned reasons, but as long as he never asks me anything about myself, i will be glad to lick his baby toe if he'll make me cum like that again. and, to top it off, he played with my ass. i am getting so hot lately, thinking about a guy being in my ass for the first time. i don't know when i'm ever going to do it for real, but if i ever run into this guy again, i'm gonna beg him to do more than just use his tongue. fuck, but that was good.

=^.^=

Story time is winding down boys and girls. The following is the shortest section. And tomorrow's the last. Hope you've been enjoying it.

Story Posts so Far:

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8:

That evening at 6:25, after everyone had gone home, I was still typing away at my computer, catching up on some work until I left to meet my husband for dinner. There was a noise behind me, and I jumped. I flew around, and Ethan was standing in the doorway to my cubicle. He gave a low chuckle, and his smile was enough to melt me into a little puddle on the floor. My breath caught in my throat, but not from surprise. He was a vision tonight, dressed in knee-high Doc Martens, black leather jeans, and cream colored silk shirt stuffed into them. This wasn�t exactly dress code material � his shirt was halfway unbuttoned, leaving a giant "v" of milky flesh exposed. I thought I would faint at the sight of that chest, until I saw his halo of red-gold hair spilling over his shoulders. Christ, angels really do walk this earth.

"You�re here late," he said, his voice low with a dreamy quality to it. My toes curled in my shoes.

"Me? You were out sick today. What are you doing here at all?" I asked, trying to keep my tone light.

He just looked at me for a moment, eyes looking at me intently, as if contemplating something. With those beautiful cinammon colored eyes on me, I felt a blush creep up my throat to my face. I�m an all-body kind of blusher. Shit.

"I�ve come to do something I should have done long ago," he said, and took a step forward. His hand came out from behind the cubicle wall, and there was a bouquet of flowers in them. Purple wildflowers. Where on earth do you get a bouquet of wildflowers in the city?

He was in front of me then, extending the flowers out to me. My blush deepened, and I hesitated a moment, but I took the flowers. I wondered how they would smell, and when I leaned into them, they smelled like sunshine. Incredible, just like from a dream�

I blinked at the thought. I rose to my feet. "What�" I stammered, trying to find the right question. "Are these for me?"

He beamed at me. "Of course," he answered. He took a step back then, and glanced over me quickly. Not slow and obscene, but one quick motion to appreciate the outfit. "You look lovely tonight. Green suits you. It matches your eyes."

I blushed again, this time with a little embarrassed sound bubbling from my lips. I tried to distract myself by putting the bouquet down on my desk. When I turned back to him, I realized it had been a mistake. It had been a barrier between us, admittedly flimsy, but it had made me feel more comfortable with his closeness. Now, although he hadn�t moved, his presence seemed practically leaning into mine.

"Why the flowers, Ethan?" I asked him, trying to shift the focus from me.

He reached out to take my hand in his. My eyes widened in amazement to watch him lift my wrist to his lips and plant a kiss on the back of my hand. Shivers ran down my spine at the touch of his lips on my skin.

"Don�t all first dates begin with flowers?" he asked, still holding my hand between us.

My heart was suddenly pounding a mile a minute. Christ, was this really happening? "Date?" I asked.

"I have come to ask you to dinner," he said. He kissed the back of my hand again. "Would you do me the honor of coming out with me tonight?"

I was flabbergasted. "But I� But you� But�" I could not find a full sentence to actually complete. I realized then that it was my left hand that he was holding in his, and his fingers were playing with my wedding band. I found my question.

"But you know that I�m married," I said. OK, so it wasn�t a question. It was a shocked statement of disbelief that he could possibly be within sane mind at this moment.

"Yes, I know that you are married," he answered. His eyes were searching mine, as if looking for some confirmation of something. "But you only live once, and I could not live without asking you on a date."

"A date," I repeated. "Just a date."

"I figured it was a good place to start," he answered.

I just wanted to sputter silly questions at him, like, "Who me?" or maybe "You�ve got to be kidding?" But here he was, standing in my cubicle, having sought me ought after-hours on a day that he wasn�t even in the office, and he had given me a bouquet of purple flowers, my favorite color.

I closed my eyes and contemplated the offer. My wildest fantasies had come true, could I live with them? "Yes," I said aloud, answering his question and mine.

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