The night air was cold. He asked me to meet here, in the park by the river, at midnight. I don't know what he looks like. I don't even know his name. Our occasional online chats have turned into daily chats, sexting, mutual masturbation sessions. What he's willing to do to, what he wants, what I need, what I'm not getting. I think about these things every minute of the day. The thoughts consume me. I know I'm in a dangerous situation. The only thing I really know about him is how many different ways he wants to fuck me. I'm an average girl. I carry a little extra weight, but nothing excessive. I work out, but I love to eat. Men usually notice me mostly because of my natural DD breasts. I've been married for almost 20 years, but as a cruel joke from mother nature, just as I hit my sexual awakening, my husband finds his plateau. Only once every few months does he reach for me in the dark, fumbling through the steps, giving me hope for more, but settling for less.
I check my phone for the time. He's 5 minutes late. I should leave before something bad happens to me. This guy could be a serial killer or something. Yet, my feet remain planted where they are.
I hear him in the darkness before I see him. "You came." He said. "I was afraid you wouldn't."
I turn to look at him, but he's still in the shadows. He asks me to step towards him, into the shadows, into the darkness, unprotected by moonlight. I nearly bump into him. My face inches from him. I feel his breath on me. I can't see him, but I feel his heat pulling me towards him. He reaches forward and tugs on the sash of my trench coat, letting the cold air caress the naked flesh underneath. His hand cups my breast, massages it. I reach out to touch him, but he grabs my wrists tightly with one strong hand. "I want to feel you." He says in a low voice.
His hand travels down my belly, to the curve of my hip, around to the rounded globe of my buttocks. He's feeling his way in the dark, literally, learning the route, finding his way.