Online Meeting Turns Adventurous

Cruising online on the various meeting places can be exciting at times but also very frustrating.

There are so many parallel universes, liars, schemers and BSers. When I said hi to Cougar1nj I didn't have hopes for anything special.

The messages went back and forth, little about this, little about that. She said she was married with two kids, 45 years of age. I lied and said I was 45 too when in fact I'm 50, but did correctly say two kids and a wife.

We both lamented about the lack of excitement in our marriages, work being too damn hard and then switched to things we actually did like. She loved travel, reading, and the beach. I used to love travel but work travel generally sucks, reading and the shore. We laughed online about whatever the difference is between the beach and the shore. Just the same bit of interactions of each other coming from different backgrounds.

It was a nice, friendly conversation, and I didn't feel she was scheming me, as if she were a real life person. I told her that and was surprised when she gave me a cell phone number. "Look, I'm not a guy acting like a girl, I am who I said I am, and if you don't believe me, call right now."

I did, and a female voice answered, and we spoke for the next 20 minutes or so about this or that like old friends.

It was amazing, actually. Months of back and forth online with who knows who, and here's a real woman who actually sounds normal. Over the next week we spoke online daily - phone needed pre-approval because of inquiring ears who could perk up at the wrong moment - but I learned her hubby could be wonderful as well as a complete jerk.

I complained about my wife's lack of desire anymore, we hardly made love. She - Cougar1nj aka Shannon - had a demanding husband who took care of his needs pretty much when and how he wanted it without any regard for her needs. He was in law enforcement, she admitted, and knew his job was dangerous and pressure packed, but for nearly a decade everything was him while she was left to clean up on the kids messes, homework and doing her own job.

She was needy, she admitted, and wasn't getting what she needed. I was in a different yet similar situation, and was lonely. And while we lived hours apart we seemed to have a rapport and developed a friendship.

It was so very strange. Nobody meets someone online so fast, so quickly, and bonded with them. Over the next few weeks we became friends, continued to learn things about each other and maybe even one day wanted to meet each other.

Yes, it was as if we were in a special parallel universe. Whatever it was, it was real. Oh, we tried to trick each other into admitting we were perverts, crazy, ax murderers, you name it. But it was real.

Shannon's kids were in school and she took a mindless part-time job during the day to make a few bucks and feel more productive. It worked out well with the kid's schedules, and allowed her to have dinner on the table and the house cleaned up by the time her demanding husband arrived home.

She said she knew in the first minute whether it would be a nice night or an awful one, as Brad, her husband, brought into the house his troubles or problems of the day. In the worst case, there would be hell to pay if the house wasn't clean or the dinner wasn't what he wanted, because he'd sputter snide or humiliating remarks if things weren't up to his standards.

"He'd tell me the place was a pig sty, and it was sparkling clean except for some things out of order because the kids were playing. Or, he'd say, such and such again for dinner? Or he'd tell me to get off my fat ass and get things done," lamented Shannon. "There were times he came home where you could eat steak and lobster off the floor with waitress service on silver platters and he'd find something wrong. He can be an asshole."

Shannon said it wasn't always that way. When they were courting she was a princess, his little princess. But after 20 years of marriage things were different. She knew many friends who had the same problems, but hers, it seemed, were bigger. In the bedroom, Brad would pay only attention to himself.

After intimating a few times all wasn't well in the sack, Shannon admitted that Brad never worried about her satisfaction. It would be one-two-three, all for me, she related.

"I mean, we do have sex, that's it. He drops his drawers and gets me on my knees to suck him off. That's a big weekday night, me sucking him off," sighed the woman. "On weekends, it is the same thing, me sucking, but then sometimes he pushes me onto the bed and starts fucking me. He likes my legs up high and he ruts me until he comes."

Shannon admitted that several times, after he had satisfied himself, she slipped off to a guest bedroom and brought out her trusty vibrator or dildo and fucked herself until she had an orgasm, but most of the time she just turned over to her side of the bed an fell asleep.

She said she still loved him, that he was under great pressure at work, and that he did provide well for the family, but she was under the weight of Groundhog day over and over and over again and again.

In the time we'd talked we never talked about getting together. We were about 50 miles apart, so meeting halfway would put us out of the eyes of those who might know us, but our relationship was online and on the phone through those minutes and hours we'd interact. In that time we'd tell each other things we'd never tell our spouses, like best friend meeting for coffee.

There were times when our conversation was innocent, but there were also times when we were brutally honest and spoke about intimate details without lovemaking with our spouses. I spoke about my wife's allowing a monthly mercy fuck, while Shannon related stories of her husband's naughty needs.

"He is always in a hurry, almost like it's a chore...he wants to get off quickly. Last night he was watching a game and instructed me to blow him. I did," said Shannon, "and it couldn't have lasted more than five minutes before he jerked off into my mouth. He insisted I swallow. It was hardly romantic."

I joked that from my perspective it was very romantic, but quickly apologized for being a sexist pig.

Shannon laughed, accepted my apology, and mumbled something about men and their little dicks.

I couldn't help myself, and said my wife had agreed to give me a blow job for my birthday, but with some caveats. "It was three minutes, she brought a timer from the kitchen. Most of it was hands. And I couldn't cum in her mouth. She said wives and mothers don't do that...this from a girl who sucked my cock nightly before we got married."

Shannon appeared somewhat shocked, and then just shook her head.

"I guess it is different after marriage, but I wish it wasn't that way. I mean, sometimes we all have needs. But there should be at least some satisfaction taken from satisfying your partner," she lamented. "Sometimes it should be just guttural, no hands barred, sex for the sex of it."

We were a pair.

Our conversations continued, at least every other day on the phone, and daily to private email accounts used for nothing but our talks. One Friday afternoon I mentioned I was going to be in the outskirts of Vineland, a mid-Jersey town about half way from the township I lived and her home near Philly in Deptford.

I had to pick up a part for a friend who was out of town. A nice drive, and in the back of my mind I intimated that maybe we could meet.

Surprisingly Shannon said we could, it was early in the afternoon. Coffee and a donut, nothing special. But she reminded me she wasn't going to cheat on her husband. I agreed. I just wanted to see her face.

"Don't dress up, just jeans and a tee," she said. "Please. I don't want to dress to impress. I just want to meet you in person."

We agreed. Just a low key meeting, a hello, some friendly conversation over some coffee. Then off on our way.

It was a lovely morning, and I did chores around the house off the Honey Do list. My wife was pleased with my actions, but not so pleased that I was driving 20 miles to pick up something for Tony, a guy she really disliked.

Driving up Route 55 I was nervous. What if she was a porker, an ax murderer, deformed, a bore in person? Nah.

Pulling into the pre-arranged spot off Route 30 I went inside and looked around. There was a woman in the rear, looking at her phone and sipping coffee. It was her. I strode over and said hi, and the woman gave me a "what the fuck" look. "Excuse me," she said. "Can I help you?"

Oops. Wrong woman! I said sorry, I've mistaken you for someone else or something like that, and turned and walked toward the front counter.

From behind, I heard the same voice again. "Hey, dummy, it's me, get me a jelly donut."

Punked!

For the next hour we talked like old friend. A couple coffees and two donuts each, talking about this and that, families and kids, work and things we liked to do for fun.

Time flies when you are having fun, so the clock turned fast and we each needed to get a move on it.

Shannon asked for a ride to her car, parked across the highway at a shopping center. We hopped into my truck and I leaned over. "You don't have to kiss me, but I sure would like to kiss you."

She moved closer and those soft lips played with mine, tongues following as we pulled each other close into a warm embrace. The kiss lasted for a minute or two, and I enjoyed the feel of her hand on my thigh for balance.

Pulling apart, she sat back and let out a "whew".

Shannon said I was a good kisser. And that she had a great meeting. We smiled as I put the truck in gear and made my way toward her car.

As we pulled into the lot I asked where she was parked. She said to pull back to the side of the shopping center and park. I did, looking around and not seeing another car close by.

The woman maneuvered over to me, kissing me again. It was lovely. Sweet. Sexy.

And when she began slowly stroking my thigh I felt an unexpected stirring between my legs. Her hand felt my cock through my jeans and gave it light strokes that brought a grunt from me. "You better stop..."

Shannon smiled at me, and moved back to her seat. "Wow, you have a little problem here, sailor. Did I cause that?"

I nodded.

"Why don't you take him out so I can see what he looks like...and don't get ideas. I'm married. I'm not having sex with you. Just let me see that thing."

Down came my zipper, and I reached inside my boxers but had trouble pulling out my cock for display. Shannon solved the problem. "Pull down your jeans, stupid."

Ah, that made it easier.

Pants down to my knees, I stroked my dick while looking at her looking at me. It was so very hot of a scene. I mean, there I was, playing with my dick while a pretty married lady watched intently.

"You have a nice dick, can I touch it?"

What could I say but a simple, quiet: "Yes."

Slowly reaching over, she looked around the parking lot before grasping my cock. What followed was exquisite. She slowly began stroking my dick, starting at the base and moving up the shaft with practiced precision. At the top she sort of rubbed her thumb and finger around the tip of my dick before reversing the action downward.

"Do you like?" she asked.

"It's unbelievable," I moaned.

"You know in high school I had a lot of car dates where guys for some reason knew that I knew my way around a cock. I never seemed to have a Friday or Saturday night without a cock in my hand."

I asked if it was the same, or a couple guys?

She replied a different guy most of the time. Oh she went steady a few times. But mostly she was loose and fancy free. She was practiced and had a reputation for pleasing.

"How many guys did you jerk off," I asked.

She looked around the parking lot, turned toward me, and smiled. "Do you really want to know, I mean really?"

"Uh huh."

She had a shy look, but with a sly smile.

"Twenty two guys in my senior year, of all shapes and sizes."

That did it. I couldn't help myself. Her hand was stroking my cock and I was so excited by the feelings her hand generated. But the thought of this prim little middle aged mom having a background that included stroking off so many guys sent my mind, and my dick, into over-gear. She knew it, she felt it grow and pulse, and soon she felt the reward of her work as my dick spewed its seed all over the front seat, my jeans, and her hand.

She stroked long after I'd cum, slowly milking any excess residue. Stroking my cum along my cock as it began to get sticky. It was amazing.

Shannon reached into her Coach purse and pulled out several tissues, drying off her hand before offering to me to help clean up.

"You better get presentable, there's a guy walking our way," said the girl.

Somehow I got presentable before he walked by. I still had that stupid smile on my face and waved at him as he went past.

Shannon merely chuckled.

"That was pretty awesome," she said. "You have a very nice dick. I know I shouldn't have done that, but I really wanted to."

We said our goodbyes, promising to keep our little secret. But that night as we were "talking" on the computer I had to ask..."Did you really, you know, give that many hand jobs?"

"Uh huh, I had a reputation of a girl who didn't go all the way, but did provide happen endings. There were 42 guys in my class and I'd whacked off more than half of them. Two occurred on graduation night in cars. Within two hours of each other. Two different horny guys. Apparently one told the other who approached her and she said what the heck, why not.

Wow. What could I say?