Only Whisper

Okay, I admit it. I’ve always been curious about chat rooms on the internet. That’s why I perked up, big time, when it was the topic of conversation at lunch the other day. My friends were talking about their favourite sex chat site on the Literotica website and how they were living out their fantasies. Now you must understand, I’m a happily married woman and have never had a serious want or need, especially in the bedroom department. But fantasies I do have, thoughts I don’t dare whisper to my pillow.

A few days following this hot information session, I found myself sitting in my private office typing in the website address for Literotica. Once I had signed up and chosen a nickname I was ready to log onto the chat site.

The heart beat picked up as I entered a room called ‘The Lounge’. Little yellow boxes with private messages to JenniferMidnight immediately flooded my screen. At first I didn’t type anything and just watched the screen in total bewilderment. There were far too many conversations going on at the same time and they were flying by like lightening. It was obvious that a lot of people in here knew each other well. The others had a rather transparent mission, to get somebody’s (anybody’s!) attention.

There were tabs and squares to the right of the screen that listed all the rooms you could visit and who were in them. I navigated my way into a few and finally decided I was ready to venture into a conversation with someone. I settled into a room called ‘The Ballroom’.

I looked over the list of 17 names to see if any caught my eye. There were some clever names and very funny ones too. The rest seemed to be a condensed description of the person’s fantasy. I was using JenniferMidnight. I had decided it would probably be a good idea to use my real first name so I would react when someone talked to me. Midnight had been borrowed from the title of a book I had read when I was a teenager that had tugged at my heart strings. The main character had taken me through riveting, passionate emotions accompanied by buckets of tears that had, evidently, left a lasting impression.

One name on the User List did give me a nice feeling. SlowGentleLover. Mmmm, I liked a slow, gentle lover. The thought sent a little tingle through my body that made me feel naughty. Glued to the screen, I followed the conversations in the room feeling safe and detached. Yes, he was interesting, this SlowGentleLover. His quips were intelligent and clever. He seemed very well liked, and perhaps, desired by some people in the room. There was an air about him that was refreshingly humble and quite delicious.

Lost in fantasyland I almost fell off my chair when I saw my name on the screen. Someone, him, that guy with the dreamy name was asking me a question? Me! My mind was racing. Where do I type to respond? Focus Jennifer, you can figure this out. It’s not rocket science. Eureka! I found the response box at the bottom of the screen and started to type, then stopped, then rewrote what I had just typed. Oh shit! Panic. Answer the man Jennifer! Prince Charming has just spotted you across the room and you’re tripping all over your glass slippers girl.

I calmed down and reread the question. Yes, it was English and my brain was making some sense of it now. His question was, “Welcome Jennifer.”

Hell, that’s not even a question. How do I respond to that? I typed, “Thank you. This is my first visit *slow smile*.” I had stolen that add-on smile idea from someone in another room. It sounded like how I was feeling, coy and sexy. I hit ENTER and took a gulp of my tea.

After re-reading my response I flopped back into my chair thinking it had to be the most uncreative answer I could have possibly come up with. Yup, Jennifer, you just won the contest for the dullest response yet! I pictured a ceremony with me standing on the top level of a podium being presented the 2004 DORC Award (Dumbest Ordinary Retort Concocted) from the Literotica Editor-in-Chief. I frowned, feeling really discouraged with how I had portrayed myself. What is it they say about first impressions? Really, I’m usually quite witty and oh-so-

charmant

in these situations. Grrrrrrrrr.

Before I could beat myself up any further I saw JenniferMidnight’s name up on the room screen again. The message was from my Prince Charming. It read, “JenniM, in that case, may I have the first dance?”

Well, we were in the Ballroom. I smiled at the thought of being in his arms, soft music playing, room bathed in candlelight, our bodies melting into one another, cheeks lightly brushing—SNAP OUT OF IT! A yes or no will do.

I commanded my fingers to remember how to work and typed, “Hopefully, a slow one.” Alright, so I was being a little provocative, but I decided I would kick off my shoes, go with the flow, and have some fun. I would never meet this person face-to-face anyway so what did it matter?

His next message appeared in a private yellow dialogue box. “Our eyes meet. Walking across the room…taking you into my arms…our bodies moving to the sounds of Brecker.”

Michael Brecker? I giggled. It never occurred to me that someone in here would listen to jazz. Mmmm, this guy was wooing me just fine.

I answered, “Closing my eyes, feeling the rhythm and heat of your body.” I figured I was getting the hang of it. That one felt a little better. I sat back and waited for him to respond.

It arrived saying, “My hand brushes the hair from your face, skin so soft.”

Mmmm, a soft sigh escaped my throat. This was too easy to picture and feel. Settling into the fantasy, I typed, “Looking up at you, my body tingling from your touch.”

I waited. No response. Then finally he answered, “Imagining my lips on yours, but I will save our kiss for another time. I must go.”

Poof! He was gone.

Hey! You just can’t walk out on a girl like that. I sat there infuriated, hurt, disappointed (the list goes on but I will spare you). Then I looked at my watch. I had just blown an hour with this man. A wicked smile crept across my lips. This had potential.

Okay, colour me an addict. Yes, I went back the next day, and the next, and the next. And my SlowGentleLover was there too. We met unofficially every day. We talked openly about our marriages. They were so similar. We were both happy with our spouses but the years had brought us to a place of bland complacency. The mystery and passion had been replaced by a loving comfort zone that had us both secretly searching.

The on-line affair grew day-by-day. I had explored every inch of his body and he had planted luscious kisses over most of mine. I knew his likes and dislikes and he had pulled confessions out of me I had never told anyone. We laughed and talked and flirted and finally one day made such sweet love. Lovemaking with words. He sensually washed my body with every sensation a human could experience. He made me hold my breath, pant, tremble, moan (ohgawd, he could make me moan), slither, slide and feel beyond anything I had ever imagined.

And then it happened. I froze reading his words on the screen. “I need to meet you.”

We had discovered over the weeks that we lived in the same city. All of a sudden this became a very dangerous situation. It would be too easy. I had been married for 10 years and had not so much as kissed another man with any more emotion delivered than when kissing my brother. I had never crossed that line.

He picked up on my shock quickly and typed, “Jennifer, I want to touch you and hold you. Let your passion run through my body. We’ll meet in a dark room and we won’t speak—only soft whispers—remaining a sweet mystery forever. I want to feel your body surrender under mine, just once.”

A powerful ache surged through me as I read his words. The thought of feeling his body against mine, inside me, and rendering all those words real, made me close my eyes and hold my breath. I could picture us together so easily. Oh believe me, I had thought about this. These past few weeks had made his request a very desirable demand, a physical need I wanted to fulfill. I was comfortable with him and could please him effortlessly. The longing was painful, the passion too real. I knew he could take me to another level of ultimate pleasure if I agreed to meet him. I typed, “Yes.”

We decided to meet the next afternoon, afraid if we waited too long we would chicken out. That would probably be a good thing. But I had to admit, sex had never been better with my husband since I’d met SlowGentleLover. It had sparked and rekindled my passion in the bedroom. Our lovemaking would start out with me enjoying the experienced touch of my husband. Then, closing my eyes, my on-line lover would take over and send my body into sweet spasms, always ending with hubby’s gentle warmth and love surrounding me.

I received a package at the office by courier the next morning with the room key and details of our rendezvous. The note read,

Jennifer,

Ritz Carlton, PH-1, Noon.

Let yourself in, take a hot shower.

Turn off all the lights, and climb under the blankets.

I’ll be there at 12:15.

And remember, only whisper.

SGL

My heart raced. I tried to get some work done since I would be gone all afternoon. Yeah, right Jennifer! I dropped the phone receiver 3 times, spilled coffee all over a new contract on my desk and generally couldn’t remember my name at the best of times. What was I doing? I would burst into laughter each time I thought about what I had agreed to do.

Just when I thought I had it all under control a little Devil and Angel settled themselves comfortably on each shoulder and proceeded to duke it out.

Angel’s big concern was, “What if you like it too much?”

Devil retorted with the fact, “Hey, you’ve gone this far and all it has done is enhanced your relationship with your husband. What’s to worry? You’re only going to do it once.”

I couldn’t really argue with either of them. They were both right. I let them hash it out all morning and was relieved when I looked at the clock to see it was 11:35 – time to go!

I hailed a cab and made my way to the Ritz Carlton. The hotel doorman opened the car door and held out his hand to me. As I stepped out of the taxi he said, “I hope you enjoy your stay with us”, and gave me a knowing smile.

Hey! How did he know?

Devil popped onto my shoulder and told me to relax, that he said that to everyone. Angel rolled her eyes. I took a deep breath.

The entrance to our room had a small corridor that hid the bedroom area from immediate view. As I anxiously rounded the corner my eyes were treated to a room tastefully decorated in a Victorian flavour. In the middle of the bedroom was a beautiful, heavy dark wood, 4-poster, king size bed. My hands started to get clammy at the sight of it.

Curious to see how dark I could make the room, I walked over to the window and closed the thick curtains. I turned off all the lights and was relieved to find I couldn’t see the nose on my face. Once my eyes got accustomed to the dark I had to admit I could see faint silhouettes, but that was all.

With that comfort zone established, I nervously undressed and hopped into the shower. I felt like a virgin. It would all feel so new. I stood under the water and let it wash down over my body—hot, wet—running my fingers over my breasts imagining they were his.

“No time to linger here!” said Devil, tossing me a towel. I dried off my body catching a quick glance of myself in the full-length mirror. Taking another deep breath, I turned off the lights and made my way to the 4-poster bed. I slid under the covers welcoming the comfort of the darkness.

My heart was beating so fast and loud that I didn’t hear the key being inserted into the door. I gasped when it started to open. Regrets. Bad timing. Can I leave now? I’ve changed my mind! Ohgawd, my kingdom for the Transporter Room. Where is Scotty when you need him? I don’t care about that molecule thing, just energize! I closed my eyes tightly, hoping to stop the hysterical jabbering going on in my head.

A soft, deep whisper came from the direction of the closed door. “I’m smiling, Jennifer, and can’t wait to feel the warmth of your body.”

Ahhh, yes. Breathe, relax. He was here now. I could tell it was him by the way my body was reacting to his words.

He quickly undressed and slid into bed.

Lying on my back, positively frozen, I could feel his heat. He lay on his side facing me. His hand touched my face gently, fingers running across my cheek to my lips. One finger traced the outline of my mouth as he whispered my name, “Jennifer, you feel so beautiful, so soft, just like I knew you would.” My lips parted slightly. I needed air. I needed to remember how to breathe!

His fingertips moved to my throat, slowly trailing down to my breasts. My nipples were hard and aching to be explored. He made a circling motion around them but didn’t touch them. My entire body quivered, eyes straining in the darkness craving a glimpse of my lover.

I could feel his hot breath and wanted to taste his mouth. As if he heard my thoughts, his lips pressed softly on mine—finally connecting us. We both exhaled an uninhibited whimper as we kissed. The sexual tension that had built up over the weeks was so potent that this kiss felt like it was my very first, ever.

Ohgawd his mouth felt good on mine.

The kiss started to melt away the fear, the shyness, the hesitation and replaced it with longing and primal need. I knew why I was there and wanted him more than anything. My head tilted up into the kiss and I pressed my body into his.

As my fingers traced the curves of his muscular arm, my body went weak from the picture they were transmitting. He reached out and pulled me to him while we kissed. Sweet surrender. Bodies entwined, the kiss changed from tender to one of passion. We played out all those words that had been on our screens for so many weeks. Like a script guiding two actors.

I heard myself moan as he lifted my leg so it rested on his. My lips spread—so wet, so eager. I wanted to feel him inside me and pushed my hips slightly forward. He whispered, “No baby, not yet.”

He moved down my body and kissed everything that got in his way, slowly devouring the path to my clitoris. I arched my back as he nipped at my nipples and moaned as he took them into his mouth and sucked hard on them. His hands lead the way as his tongue glided down to my glistening lips. Fingers spread them making way for his tongue to dart into the wetness. So deep. Just once. I gasped.

His tongue moved up my slit, flat and firm making every body part within a 10 mile radius spasm. Waiting, anticipating—ohhhhh—reaching that spot. The tip of his tongue flicked mercilessly on the top of my clitoris. Back and forth until it was so hard I could feel the pressure mounting, the explosion ready to happen. My hips rolled side-to-side as I grabbed onto the pillows scattered around my head and clawed at them moaning softly. I cried out as he pushed two fingers deep inside me, still unremittingly making love to my clitoris with his tongue.

I broke into a low throaty growl.

He sensed how aroused I was and moved his body so that it was suspended over mine. I felt his strength as he pinned my hands down over my head and entwined our fingers. Face-to-face, I knew he was looking at me without seeing, drowning in touch, smell, taste and whispers.

His mouth came down on mine again, this time, hard and dirty. His tongue felt huge in my mouth, searching out every crevasse—the roof, my teeth, my tongue, my lips.

Then I felt his body on mine, his hardness at the mouth of my pussy. He played with it, moving the soft tip of his penis from my swollen lips to my screaming clit and then back down again, each time pushing it in a little further. Slowly. Gently. “Mmmm, so slow, so gentle,” I heard my thoughts being whispered. The walls of my pussy were purring. My mouth drew in a long slow gasp as he thrust his penis deep through my wet, pink flesh.

He whispered, “Just relax Jennifer, don’t move, don’t squeeze, just feel it, let it wash over you.”

Hypnotized by his words I lay there desperately trying to summon up all the yoga teachings I had stored in my pretty little head to completely relax my body, mind and spirit. Ohmygawd, I was intoxicated. My legs were spread wide but didn’t seem to be part of me anymore. The only body parts that existed in this universe were my clit and pussy. The walls collapsed around his thick cock as he slid inside me—inch—by inch—by inch.

The fire started spreading up my stomach, muscles tightening in perfect synchronicity with my rapid breaths, then down my groin to my wiggling toes. I was sure that if I opened my eyes I would see an aura of pure energy emanating from my pussy and shooting off my body straight up to the ceiling. (I opened one eye just to check.) Then like rolling thunder my clit started spasming uncontrollably. All I could see was white light. I forced myself not to tense up any part of my body lower than my belly button. I wanted to scream it was so extreme, rolling through me, over and over again. I was brought back to the room by his cries, his cock wedged deep inside me moving like a bucking bronco.

How much time went by, I don’t know. I was suspended in a trance-like state I hoped would never end. My gentle lover managed to roll us over so that I was on top of him, his throbbing cock still deep inside me. I sprawled my arms out over his head while he bathed my face in kisses, his hands running up and down my back, over my shoulders and up my arms.

He covered us with the massive quilt on the bed and whispered, “You’re so sensual I can feel how beautiful you are. I will never let you go Jennifer.”

We lay there drinking in kisses and losing ourselves as our fingertips explored each other’s body. I had forgotten this level of sensuality and passion and wanted to commit every moment to memory.

The afternoon’s magic was shattered when he whispered, “It’s time to go now. I’ll wait here until you’re gone.” He pulled me to him for one last kiss and then whispered, “Go now sweet JenniM.”

Reluctantly, I climbed out of bed and made my way into the bathroom where I had left my clothes. It took a few minutes for my eyes to adjust to the bathroom light. It was almost painful. I quickly dressed, ran a comb through my hair and put on fresh lipstick. Making sure to turn off the bathroom light, I returned to the bedroom cloaked in the safety of darkness.

Ohgawd, I didn’t want to go.

Standing at the edge of the room I whispered, “You are the perfect slow, gentle lover. One I will never forget.” I turned, opened the door and was gone.

Fate smiled upon me that night. My husband had a late meeting so I wouldn’t have to face him. I was terrified the afternoon’s heavenly bliss would be written all over my face. I threw a pizza in the oven and turned on the shower. Standing once again in front of a bathroom mirror I closed my eyes and drifted to my lover’s touch.

My eyes shot open. I was missing an earring! Damn! The diamond stud earring my husband had given me for our last anniversary. I ran into the kitchen retracing my steps. Quickly pulling on a long T-shirt I rushed out to the car, combing the seat and floor meticulously. It was nowhere to be found. I sighed with the resignation that I had donated my earring to the hotel cleaning staff.

Guilt-ridden, I went back into the house. Devil appeared on my shoulder. He pointed a finger at me and lectured, “No Jennifer, let’s not go there. You promised yourself when you made the decision to meet this man you would not do this. It’s a one time deal. It’s over. It was everything you wanted it to be so just drop it.”