The young girl in the photos was captivating. Dewy skin, large liquid brown eyes, moist lips. And a body that made any man ache with passion.
How did the young male world survive without the Internet, I wondered, slowly stroking my stiffening manhood as I scrolled down the page of thumbnail photos. In this global village lived thousands of beautiful nubile creatures with limbs splayed and private parts displayed in every imaginable position. And in some I never knew were possible.
Sure, in the past there had been porn magazines and movies. But the Internet is is erotica on demand, searchable and scrollable. And available at a keystroke, at no cost but for the redness left by an over-enthusiastic afternoon or a lonely Saturday night.
Don't get me wrong, I date. I date lots, and I'm no virgin. There's no substitute for a hot, willing woman who is curious and available. I've introduced a few girls to carnal love and have been rewarded with enthusiasm, eagerness , gratitude and no lingering desire for a deep relationship. They wanted to get fucked by someone who knew how to do it and I was amenable.
But I digress.
The Internet is more convenient than dating. There are no strings attached, unless you count the time and trouble to set up antivirus and spyware scans. And while it doesn't come close to the feeling of a wet pussy gripping your cock, it's efficient and effective. And in my final semester of college, worried about graduation and seeking a place in the working world, I needed as little extra distraction as possible.
The last few times I've gone online to surf the porn pages, I've found myself drawn to a site that seemingly would not be my forte. It features a small young blonde from Montreal, Canada, and is tame by Internet porn standards. This girl has been an Internet star for a few years but only recently released free photos of herself nude. For a long time, the only pictures that surfers who weren't members of her website could find were photos of her in sleepwear, swimwear or lingerie. The boldest photos were of her in a thong with her back turned, her arms crossed over her breasts. A sharp-eyed viewer might have been able to see the side of her breast as it peeked out from her hand, or the pale underside of her breasts as she lifted her shirt to remove it.
She almost disappeared from thumbnail sites, replaced by bolder, younger vixens only too willing to offer up total nudity, gynecological poses, object insertion and girl-girl teasing in return for links to their pay-to-play sites.
A few weeks ago, I stumbled onto recent photos of the young girl, this time obviously taken from the inside pages of her website. Because in these she was nude. Not teasingly nude but bold, in-your-face nude. She still hadn't joined the "watch me fuck for money" club, and there were no cucumbers, hair brushes or broom handles erupting from her innards. But there were soft, small, pink-nippled breasts and a tight young pussy crowned by a strip of honey-colored pubic hair. Pretty heady stuff after years of peek-a-boo online.
Sure, it was tame. I could find photos - and video - of prettier girls. Better-endowed girls. Girls willing to do daring things on camera. And in high-definition video in many cases. But this girl somehow captivated me. She didn't have the biggest breasts or even the best-proportioned body. Some would say she had a big butt for a girl so small. Or didn't have the tiniest waistline. Or that her breasts were too small, her aerola too large. But I found myself returning time and time again to these new photos.
My cock's reaction to the images was equally unsettling. As I said, I'm no stranger to sex. So it usually takes me a while to get cranked up when I'm using the Internet to get off. But the first time I found these nude photos of the blonde, my soldier lept to attention like it was Flag Day. And every time I've returned, I've had the same physical reaction. So I found myself looking more critically at the photos, even as I quickened my hand's pace up and down my love-handle.
And then it hit me! This girl looks like my Canadian cousin! Hell, it might BE my Canadian cousin! I was so shocked I actually stopped my stroking and my hooded warrior went limp.
I peered at the photos, found a closeup of the girl's face and enlarged it to full screen. I looked into her brown eyes, catching the golden highlights as she stared back at me. I studied her hair, honey-colored with golden highlights. I paid particular attention to her lips, full and soft, moist with desire. The longer I looked, the more convinced I became that this was, indeed, my cousin from Toronto. To underscore my conviction, my cock began to swell as the realization dawned.
How could I be sure? How old would Anita be now? It had been more than five years since I'd last seen her so she would be at least 21 now. She had just gotten her driver's license the last time I'd visited. I remembered because I teased her relentlessly about being able to drive herself instead of going out on dates chauffeured by her older sister. I recall her lilting laughter as she playfully punched me on the arm. We had always been close, even though I was nearer her sister's age than hers.
So how can I confirm my suspicions? I can't confront her without ruining our friendship. She really is special to me and I didn't want to do anything to jeopardize that. I gazed back at the beautiful face on my computer screen. The girl from Montreal was older but so was Anita now. I closed my eyes and imagined her lovely face, shining with love as we parted at the end of my last visit. She had kissed me tenderly and pushed away, looking into my eyes. "Don't you ever stop caring for me," she said. "I love you and I couldn't stand it if you stopped loving me."
I closed the image on my screen and went back to the page of thumbnails. Now my suspicions were aroused (an interesting word considering my cock's throbbing condition) and I was determined to satisfy my curiosity. I opened a full-body view and perused the blonde from head to toe. I'd never seen my cousin nude, not for a lack of trying, but I'd seen her in a bikini and was confident I'd be able to tell if this was her.
The neck, shoulders and chest certainly could be my cousin's. A bit fleshier than I remembered but she's five years older and probably more physically mature than the 16-year-old I remembered. The breasts were beautiful and seemed the right size but this was an area about which I had to admit no knowledge. Her waist was slender and shapely but I thought my cousin's was smaller and better-defined. The Montreal beauty had a bit of a tummy, not unattractive by any means. But not the mirror of my cousin's tight, rippled abs. I forced my eyes down below the moist vee between her thighs and focused on her legs. Here the jury was deadlocked. From her beautiful thighs to her trim ankles, the Montreal girl's legs were the equal of my cousin's gorgeous gams.
In the next photo, the Montreal girl's back was turned, displaying her round butt and her sleek back. As my eyes wandered down her body I reached the small of her back and sighed with relief. This wasn't my cousin. It couldn't be. This girl had a tattoo on her lower back and my cousin was ink-free. So it was close but no cigar. And I could enjoy leering at the Montreal girl without guilt.
