by Koko Brown
Roxanne peeked at the computer screen again as he typed a message—then immediately jumped up and started to pace. She wasn’t ready yet for any kind of rapport, especially when she didn’t know the rules for internet dating. Like, were you a slut if you talked to several guys at once? Or how many messages needed to be exchanged before you pulled out the Hershey’s chocolate and chilled pineapple rings?
Roxanne racked her brain for reasonable etiquette. Coming up empty, she returned to the desk and reached for the power button. But while she’d been wearing down her carpet, he’d left a brief message.
ThePuppetMaster: Haven’t seen your profile before. First time?
Roxanne leaned back, mentally relaxing. Somehow his intuitiveness soothed her rattled nerves.
WantTheBIGOne: Yes
Soon after pressing the enter button, Roxanne regretted her monosyllabic reply. Holding a degree in Serial Dating, couldn’t she have come up with something wittier and sexier than “yes”?
“Great, now he’s going to think I’m a social retard.”
ThePuppetMaster: No problem. Never know what kind of weirdoes or stalkers you might meet online.
“Ding, ding, ding…two points for ThePuppetMaster!” His honesty was refreshing. Online dating wasn’t half bad.
WantTheBIGOne: Speaking of weirdoes and stalkers…my name’s Roxanne. And yours?
Roxanne didn’t supply her last name. She didn’t think that wise just yet.
ThePuppetMaster: I’m Constantine. I’m not a stalker, but weirdo may be up for debate. So what’s a beautiful woman like you doing on WhipADate.com?
Roxanne tugged at her earlobe. How could she explain to a stranger she wanted to be freaked up and down and any which way but loose and still be respected in the morning?
“Better to beat around the bush,” she said, deciding on her game plan.
WantTheBIGOne: I didn’t have any luck meeting the right man in all the usual places. So, I ended my gym membership, stopped hanging out in the produce department and stalking the youth pastor, and decided to try my chances online.
ThePuppetMaster: Don’t believe it. A good-looking girl like you, with those brown eyes that make me melt, should have them lining up around the block.
WantTheBIGOne: I stand corrected. I couldn’t find what I was looking for in any of the men I dated.
ThePuppetMaster: What are you looking for? A husband? Or not quite ready for commitment and just looking to date around or hook up on the occasional booty call? Yes, I went there. :)
WantTheBIGOne: Straight to the point?
ThePuppetMaster: I don’t want to waste my time or yours if we’re not on the same page.
Roxanne stared down at the keyboard, struggling with how to word her answer. She didn’t want to come off like a delusional twenty-something.
WantTheBIGOne: I’m here to explore my sexuality.
It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t entirely forthcoming.
ThePuppetMaster: Looking to release the inner vixen?
WantTheBIGOne: No problem in that area. I’m always willing to try something three times before I’ve decided it isn’t for me.
ThePuppetMaster: My kind of woman. So if you’re so open-minded about sex, then your issue must lay someplace deeper.
Roxanne drummed her fingers on the keyboard, careful not to depress any of the keys. Even if they were hiding behind computer screens, it was still difficult to share something so personal with a complete stranger.
WantTheBIGOne: Sex has always been just okay for me. I’ve never experienced the mind-shattering, moving-mountains kind of orgasm.
ThePuppetMaster: That explains your username. I was under the assumption you were looking for a big cock. In case you’re interested, I’m almost eight inches and as thick as a woman’s wrist.
Roxanne’s cheeks bloomed with heat. She wasn’t a virgin, but his frankness made her feel like a 1950s housewife. She almost reached up to clutch her pearls.
ThePuppetMaster: Can you make yourself come?
She almost had this morning before Jessina interrupted. Still, even then her orgasms weren’t earth-shattering.
WantTheBIGOne: Yes, but making myself come usually isn’t as satisfying as an orgasm caused by a lover.
ThePuppetMaster: I agree, and so do all of my exes.
Cocky much? Playing the devil’s advocate, she decided to goad him.
WantTheBIGOne: Are you sure your partners didn’t fake it?
ThePuppetMaster: Doubt it.
Determined to knock him down a notch, she called his bluff.
WantTheBIGOne: You’re fooling yourself. A woman can fake an orgasm while paying the bills and whipping up a five-person brunch.
ThePuppetMaster: Ha! None of those women had me as a lover.
Roxanne’s eyebrows shot up. His overconfidence both rubbed her the wrong way and turned her on. She squeezed her legs tightly as heat rushed to the apex of her thighs.
ThePuppetMaster: Maybe a woman can fake tears or moans. But she can’t fake the little aftershocks when she grips me with her pussy or comes all over my cock. Excuse my frankness.
You’re excused, Roxanne mused, flapping the lapels of her bathrobe in a lame attempt at reducing the heat under her collar.
ThePuppetMaster: Want proof?
Roxanne’s stopped in mid-fan. He wasn’t suggesting what she thought he was suggesting?
WantTheBIGOne: Proof of what?
ThePuppetMaster: That I can make you come.
Bingo! Roxanne sat forward, her fingers flying over the keyboard.
WantTheBIGOne: How do you plan on doing that?
ThePuppetMaster: We’re going to have sex right now.
What were the chances of finding the Dalai Lama of sex on WhipADate.com? Sure she had a fruitcake on her hands, Roxanne decided to humor him.
WantTheBIGOne: How are we going to do this? You’re there and I’m here. The last time I checked, you have to be in the same place at the same time to have sex. And I don’t have a webcam.
ThePuppetMaster: So beautiful, yet so naïve. Sex is 20% physical and 80% mental. Have you ever had phone sex?
Embarrassment heated Roxanne’s cheeks and neck. Maybe she wasn’t as open-minded as she’d assumed.
WantTheBIGOne: No.
ThePuppetMaster: Well, think of this as phone sex, but in print. Before this conversation is over, I’ll make you come.
Roxanne almost didn’t doubt; the idea of having online sex already had her body buzzing.
WantTheBIGOne: I’m all yours.
ThePuppetMaster: Any distractions around you?
WantTheBIGOne: Just my computer. I’m in my home office. Do I need to move to another location, like the bedroom?
Roxanne waited for the obvious answer, which would involve her lying in bed buck-naked with her legs cocked open like a Thanksgiving turkey waiting to be stuffed.
ThePuppetMaster: The location doesn’t matter. Are you ready?
Hmm. Okay. No bedroom then.
WantTheBIGOne: I’m ready.
ThePuppetMaster: Do you need to run and get any toys?
Even though she knew what he was alluding to, Roxanne couldn’t resist the obvious reply.
WantTheBIGOne: I haven’t played with dolls in years.
ThePuppetMaster: Good one. I meant sex toys. You know, like a vibrator or dildo.
Damn! Why had she traded that deluxe vibrator she’d won at her cousin Talina’s bridal shower? Like she’d really needed one more cupcake baking pan.
WantTheBIGOne: I only have my fingers.
ThePuppetMaster: Remind me to give you a list of items to pick up for the next time we meet online. We don’t need them for our first time anyway. Now, I want you to be absolutely still.
Despite her earlier skepticism, Roxanne felt herself being drawn in, following his directive to a tee. Drawing a deep breath, she sat motionless.
ThePuppetMaster: We all have a place deep inside that stimulates a pleasure area in our brains.
&nb
sp; WantTheBIGOne: What am I listening for?
ThePuppetMaster: It’s not really a sound. Mozart called it his muse. It’s like a sixth sense. Now I want you to sit up straight, breathe deeply through your nose, fill your lungs with air, then release through your mouth.
Doing as she was told, Roxanne sat up straighter. She lifted her legs and folded them under her, Indian-style, then inhaled and exhaled, filling her lungs. Of course, she felt sort of silly, but what did she have to lose?
ThePuppetMaster: Keep breathing. Feel your breath pass through you, along with any stress you may have. Can you feel it leaving you?
Roxanne exhaled. To her surprise, it did feel good. So much so, she relaxed back into the desk chair.
ThePuppetMaster: It gets better. Now place your hands on the side of your breasts.
“Umm…okay.” Still, Roxanne did as he asked.
ThePuppetMaster: Move your hands slowly forward until you reach your nipples. Grasp them between your thumb and finger.
Roxanne slid her hands inside her bathrobe. The tips of her fingers brushed over her rib cage to settle on her breast. She stroked the sensitive skin. Her breath caught in the back of her throat and she licked her lips. Amazing how the gentlest of touches could make all of her nerve endings go haywire.
ThePuppetMaster: Now pull slightly, extending your entire breast. I want you to roll your nipples, then pull. Do you feel that spike of pleasurable pain?
Roxanne grasped each nipple and rolled them between her fingers. She pulled and squeezed until her entire body zinged with an ever-building energy, making her lightheaded at the same time.
ThePuppetMaster: Now pinch the tip of each nipple.
Roxanne pinched her nipples. Instead of the pain she was expecting, an invisible thread of pleasure ran from the tips of her breast all the way down to her clit. And every time she pinched or rolled her nipples, the bud between her legs jumped excitedly.
ThePuppetMaster: Take one of your hands and place it between your legs.
Roxanne dropped her hand in her lap. Her fingers slid along the soft skin of her inner thighs, seeking her core. With a feathery lightness, she brushed her thumb over her slit. She was already soaking wet.
ThePuppetMaster: I want you to touch your clit. Imagine me there, playing with your chocolate-brown nipples, my head between your legs, working you with my tongue.
Her fingers brushed against her clit and pleasure rocketed through Roxanne like a Roman candle. Gasping loudly, she pressed her free hand into her thigh—more like clutched it to keep from tumbling out of her seat. She wanted more. Placing two fingers on the small nub, she rolled it around and around until her clit almost burned her fingers.
ThePuppetMaster: How does it feel?
Roxanne moaned. Every single nerve ending in her body was on high alert and pressure was building in all of her extremities. And if she kept it up much longer, she was going to come.
ThePuppetMaster: Enjoying it so much you can’t answer me?
WantTheBIGOne: I’m wet.
Roxanne knew he wanted her to elaborate, but that was virtually impossible at the moment. She could barely remember how to breathe much less type a coherent sentence.
ThePuppetMaster: I’m sure that tight honey pot of yours is good and wet. And I bet your pussy is on fire. I want you to check.
Roxanne stilled. What was he saying?
WantTheBIGOne: You want me to finger myself?
ThePuppetMaster: Yes. Slide your fingers inside.
Even though she wasn’t used to taking direction, especially when it came to sex, Roxanne liked having him in control. Blowing out a cleansing breath, she leaned her head back against the chair, closed her eyes and slipped her middle finger inside.
Inch by slow inch, she worked her finger until her palm lay flat against the top of her mound.
Roxanne moaned loudly. After months of voluntary celibacy, her pussy was tight and warm, just as he’d predicted. She withdrew partway then pushed forward. She did it again and again, her body shuddering with each thrust.
Round and round, she rolled her clit with her thumb, adding fuel to what he’d started. She imagined his head wedged between her legs while his tongue worked her. Roxanne moaned. Her juices were gushing over her fingers. She became so wrapped up in her own self-pleasuring, she almost missed the beep of Constantine’s incoming message.
ThePuppetMaster: Are you having fun?
More fun than a barrel of monkeys! Just a little more and she should be free-falling over the edge…
ThePuppetMaster: You can’t come until I tell you to.
“What!” Roxanne sat up, suddenly hating his authority.
ThePuppetMaster: Don’t worry. You’ll come soon, just not until I say you can. Now, I want you to put your thumb inside and imagine it’s me.
Roxanne repositioned her hand to slide home with her thumb. Even though it was much shorter than her middle finger, it still did the job, slightly stretching her channel. Roxanne shuddered and her eyelids fell to half mast. Did someone turn the temperature up in here?
ThePuppetMaster: Now pull my cock out and rub the head against your clit.
Roxanne strummed and flicked the throbbing nub at the top of her slit. She couldn’t believe she was doing this with a stranger, and actually enjoying it.
ThePuppetMaster: You like it when I do that, don’t you?
WantTheBIGOne: Yes.
ThePuppetMaster: I want you to imagine my cock, all eight inches of it, hard, thick and throbbing. Imagine me moving my hand up the shaft to the head. There’s pre-cum at the tip… Do you want to lick it off?
Roxanne licked her lips. His cock was probably just as beautiful as the rest of his body.
WantTheBIGOne: I want to do more than that. I want to take all of you in my mouth.
ThePuppetMaster: I wish you could see my cock right now. Just thinking about your beautiful full lips wrapped around it makes me harder than a steel pipe.
His cock wasn’t the only thing hard. Her nipples could cut someone.
ThePuppetMaster: Imagine me standing over you while you’re on your knees, looking up at me. My fingers are playing in your thick black hair, telling you how beautiful you are. Do you want to please me?
Well, she couldn’t be the only one having fun.
WantTheBIGOne: Yes.
ThePuppetMaster: I want you to stroke me.
Roxanne groaned as she imagined her hand sliding up and down his hard shaft, droplets of pre-cum running unchecked over her fingers. Her hand picked up its pace between her thighs.
ThePuppetMaster: I want you to put me in your mouth. Lick me all the way down to my balls and up to the head. Do you want that?
WantTheBIGOne: Yes.
ThePuppetMaster: Suck me, Roxanne. Put me in your mouth while you play with your pussy some more.
Roxanne rubbed between her legs and imagined him standing above her, his cock slipping into her mouth.
ThePuppetMaster: What do you want to do now?
WantTheBIGOne: I want you to take me.
ThePuppetMaster: Take you? Take you where, Roxanne?
Roxanne groaned in frustration. Now was not the time to crack jokes.
WantTheBIGOne: You know what I mean.
ThePuppetMaster: Do you want me to make love to you?
“Making love” sounded like more vanilla sex with no orgasms. Roxanne wanted it rough. She wanted to fuck.
WantTheBIGOne: I want you to fuck me. Fuck me hard.
ThePuppetMaster: Stand up and lean over the desk with your legs spread.
Roxanne unfolded herself from the chair and bent over, resting her elbows on the desk for balance. She bit her lip as she felt her juices running down the inside of one leg.
ThePuppetMaster: I can just see that beautiful brown ass and your pretty pink pussy. You want it rough, don’t you? You want to be handled. You want me to pull your sweet ass cheeks apart and slide my hard cock deep inside you. I want that tight ass, Roxanne. Do you want me to have it?
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br /> Roxanne stroked her clit as she pondered his question. She’d never tried anal sex. But with the way he had her body so tightly wound from only a few sentences, she would probably be open to anything—with the right lubrication, of course. Wound up and barely able to type, Roxanne pecked out a reply.
WantTheBIGOne: Yes, I want you to have it.
ThePuppetMaster: Open yourself to me. Do you feel that? Do you feel my cock sliding into your tight ass?
Roxanne reached back, pulled her butt cheeks apart and slid the tip of her finger in her ass. As her body tightened, Roxanne imagined it was him entering her body. Her eyelids fluttered as waves of sensation rolled over her.
ThePuppetMaster: I’m all the way in now. Do you feel my cock sliding into your tight ass?
Buddy, could she!
ThePuppetMaster: Mmm, you’re so hot and tight. Roxanne, your ass is mine. You’re mine. *SLAP*
WantTheBIGOne: ?
ThePuppetMaster: That’s me slapping your ass…my ass!
The thought of him spanking the soft globes of her ass until both cheeks jiggled made Roxanne rock on her toes. The room temperature escalated. Beads of sweat broke out on her upper lip.
ThePuppetMaster: I’m moving harder and faster and you’re meeting every thrust.
As she kept pumping her finger, Roxanne found herself stuck between an orgasm and frustration. She slipped her fingers between her legs and rubbed her clit faster and faster, in time with her other hand. The feeling was so unbelievable, her eyes rolled.
“This is insane,” Roxanne huffed, quickening her pace. No way was she coming from some online chat!
But it appeared she was. Any second now…
ThePuppetMaster: I’m about to come. You like that, don’t you, the idea of me coming all over my keyboard. I want you to come too.
Finally given permission, Roxanne allowed her sexual frustration to spill over into a full-throttle orgasm. Her knees buckled and she sank to the floor, a shout of joy exploding from her lips as her release gushed over her fingers.
Roxanne wasn’t sure how much time had lapsed before she received another screen prompt. Unable to resist the strange pull Constantine had over her, Roxanne dragged herself from the floor.
ThePuppetMaster: Did you like how I made you come?
