Thining on My Drive to Meet You

I can't believe I'm doing this. I kept my eyes on the road while we drove across the border into your state. It wasn't the longest drive, but it was my first time there and I had no idea what to expect.

Would you be the person I'd been talking to all day for the past few months? What information had you been leaving out of the mostly text-based chats we'd been having? I had only been able to get you on the phone once, and it felt like I was pushing things across a line you weren't willing to really cross. Would you even show up?

For the hundredth time, I reconsidered this meet-up. But I wasn't coming to your town just for you. I was bringing a friend, Liz. It made more sense for us to be traveling together. Liz was meeting an internet beau and I had inadvertently introduced them. I had met him online, but once you and I became exclusive, I had a couple of online friends with benefits to turn back into just friends. Some just disappeared, but a couple will still talk to me without taking things down a questionable path. She just knows I'm potentially meeting up with a friend. She knows nothing about us. In her eyes, I'm just a really good friend for road-tripping with her to this potentially questionable situation.

Now you and I are exclusive, sans our spouses. And this online friend happens to live in your town. He and Liz hit it off. And I'm driving a full day to get to your town, where I know you'll be working all day while I'm en route. I know tonight, when we arrive, I'm checking into the same room as her. Her friend got a room in the same hotel for the two of them, just in case.

When we started this, we were going to be online only. It was maybe two weeks before I knew I had to meet you in person. There was no way I could just let typed words and pictures be the only contact. At the very least, we needed to meet and see if this felt the same in person. And I wanted that squishy hug we talked about. The "not just friends" hug but the one where you wrapped me tightly in your arms and pulled me in until my face is buried in your neck and I can smell you. My breasts will be squashed against your chest and you'll feel my nipples harden through the mesh bra, light cotton sundress, and your button-down shirt. I'll feel your cock twitch against my thigh in that hug, thinking "this is as far as it can go" - this normal-looking hug in a public place but knowing it could absolutely be more. It will look like the kind of hug old school friends who used to hook up would give each other at their 30th reunion.

I'm jealous that Liz is going to kiss her friend. He continues to message me and tell me that he'd love to taste me, if just once, and that he's so grateful I'll be here too, but I just tell him the thing I tell everyone else - I'm ethically non-monogamous, so without my husband's approval, I can't.

But I would.

For you.

I made that decision when you went from being "that cute guy" to the man I have gotten to know and really like. Like I like you, like you. When you send me a photo or video my heart rate rises, When you praise my body, my face, my words I get tingles everywhere. When you excitedly tell me when something awesome happened for you, I'm as excited as if it were happening to me. When you tell a terrible dad joke, or even say something crass, I laugh out loud. When I see a notification on my phone from you, my pussy becomes slick with expectation. I didn't know this would happen. You were to be one of many internet dalliances, but instead, you became a person I'm willing to break rules for. A person I'm willing to drive hours for. A person I want to fuck me until I can't remember my name. A person I want to make cum in and on every part of me. And the person I want to cuddle with afterwards, snuggling and petting and stroking until we are breathing in unison, skin to skin, and content for the moment.

You said, maybe a clandestine meal, but the only way I think we can pull that off is if we carry in food to the hotel. That would be challenging to abide by the boundaries if we are in a private space. I didn't get a separate room for us. I told you where I'd be staying, and left it to you. We had joked before about meeting up for a drink and having a backup hotel room "just in case." I didn't want to get my hopes too high.

Maybe we go to an out-of-the-way place in a town nearby. Maybe you somehow don't see someone you know. Maybe we pretend I'm a coworker that's just meeting you for career advice. Then why are we sitting so close together? Why is my hand stroking your thigh under the table? Maybe I can be more subtle than that, and I just sit across from you with that business-friendly expression while my foot explores the inseam of your work pants.

Maybe we meet at a bar after your work day ends under a different guise. We should make sure to limit ourselves to one drink each. We both know how bad decisions can be made when one has too many drinks. And it would definitely be a bad decision, right? I can't imagine any good could come from just one more drink since the conversation is flowing and the waitress was so friendly, and was the v-neck of my shirt always so low? And it's so nice to actually talk to you in person without the text delay, and when my hand brushes yours as I pick up my drink there is a noticeable change in the texture of the air. It's suddenly very thick, and I set my drink aside, closer to me so I don't accidentally touch you again.

I don't want to purposefully touch you until I have permission.

I sit in the car, just under an hour to get to your town, gripping the steering wheel. The whole car smells like potential, and Liz is fretting about her meet up too. She is asking me all the what-ifs, and I don't know what to tell her.

"What if that spark isn't there in person," Liz worries.

"Then we spend the night in our one room, and then we go home."

"What if he isn't at all who he said he is?"

"Then we leave. I'll stay with you until you give me the sign to go."

"Is your friend going to meet up with you?"

This one hangs in the air.

I take a breath and say, "Man, I hope so."