The Beginning of Our Affair
by LexiRose
Copyright© 2012 by LexiRose
Erotica Story: The start of an affair, from first contact to first meeting.
Caution: This Erotica Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Consensual Heterosexual Cheating Slow .
The beginning, and perhaps an explanation...
My lover has short brown hair and bright blue eyes, red framed glasses and heaps of freckles, he's a little bit taller than me, probably 5'7", maybe 5'8", but just the perfect height for our bodies to touch in the right places when we stand close, mouth to mouth, chest to chest, hip to hip. He thinks he's too skinny, I think he's perfect, although if you saw him in the street you probably would walk straight past him, he looks young for his age and a little geeky, preferring cargo pants and t shirts with cheeky slogans that always seem a little too big for him, but trust me, naked, he's gorgeous.
Like I said, he thinks he's too skinny, and fair enough he's never going to be a body builder but I wouldn't want him to be. He has narrow shoulders and narrow hips, the slightest sprinkling of body hair and a flat stomach with the slightest hint of softness where he eats too much junk food to try and gain weight. He doesn't have bulging biceps but he's strong and his arms are well defined, a tight ass and long lightly haired legs. Then finally, to top it off, the most perfect cock I've ever known.
Now you can call me biased here, but I swear that penis is perfection personified, long, but not too long, I'm not good with measurements but my vibrator is 7" and he's at least as long as that, thick, but not too thick, just wide enough that my fingers barely touch when I wrap them around it, and honestly, if you saw him clothed you'd never think he had that hiding beneath his baggy trousers. It's slightly out of proportion to the rest of his body, a little too large for his frame but when I'm on top of him, feeling his hot hardness sliding into me that doesn't matter, he fits me and fills me better than any man I've known.
But...
My lover is engaged.
And not to me.
Let me explain...
We met on a "hook-up" app, if you've followed the news over the past year you probably know the one I mean, it's a programme on your phone which lets you see other users nearby and chat to them. I was introduced to it by a gay friend, I think a lot of people were, as a way of meeting new people and having a bit of fun in the process.
I work for myself and so often go days without seeing or speaking to a 'real' person actually 'in person' so my chances of meeting someone in 'real' life who would be up for a bit of light hearted sex are virtually nil.
Picking up some drunk guy at the local night spot is not my thing, one nighters rarely appeal to me and I used to work behind the bar there so I know for a fact 99% of those guys are creeps (the other 1% have generally been dragged down by friends or work colleagues and leave before you can start a conversation), and so I'd reached a stage where my dry spell was becoming a drought lasting over a year.
It was when I confessed to my friend that I'd spotted some average looking guy in the supermarket and genuinely considered grabbing him and dragging him into the toilets because I was that horny, that he suggested perhaps I should consider this app.
Now really, this app was perfect for me. My life revolves around technology; I work online, chat online, spend most of the day on the phone, texting or emailing so an app that sat on my screen and let me talk to men was perfect. Plus it meant I could get to know them a bit first and screen out any bad apples (I have an unfortunate habit of attracting weirdos, apparently because I'm too nice to them).
So walking along the seafront one day I found this app and downloaded it, setting up my profile as I walked my friend back to his office in town, then I sat back to see what happened. Not a lot as it turned out, no messages, nothing. I was a little disappointed but figured it had been worth a try and forgot about it.
When I got home that evening I thought I'd give it another go and started scrolling through people I could talk to, sending the odd "Hello" and getting a few replies, also getting some unsolicited greetings, often, as you expect on this type of site, pictures of genitalia, generally in close up and usually without even an accompanying message. This quickly got boring but I persevered, meeting up with a few people for coffee or a drink but generally leaving it at that, carrying on talking afterwards for a bit before tapering off in the knowledge that we weren't what the other was looking for.
Now on this app you could set a status message, and for various reasons one day when I'd had the app for a few months I'd posted a new message, "You are not a cat!"
Wait, let me finish, it's not as mad as it seems...
The previous night my flatmate had come home blind drunk having split up with the love of his life (they'd been dating for a month, it counted as long term in his eyes) and threw himself down on the sofa declaring loudly that men were like cats. When I asked him to justify that comment he stumbled a bit but the gist of it was that in his opinion men were like the cat in the Rudyard Kipling story, "I am the cat who walks by himself, and all places are alike to me!"
He argued that men didn't get attached emotionally, they just screwed around, using women for what they needed before going across the road for lunch, and while this may be true of some men (and women, harsh but true) I did, and still do, maintain that he is more like a puppy, a Labrador or a Golden Retriever, playful and fun to be with but ultimately in need of a family to take care of him and keep him out of trouble. Imagine that puppy that pulls all the toilet paper round the house in the advert, that's him to a 't'. Anyway, I turned around to him and said "You are not a cat!" which then became my catchphrase of the week and was posted everywhere, Facebook, random text messages etc etc. See, not so mad once you know the reasoning right?
Either way, that was my status that week, and now you know that, you can guess what happened next. No? OK I'll indulge you...
So I was working as usual, I told you I work a lot didn't I, and it was a Thursday so I was doing my regular tour of supermarkets, reorganising and replenishing my clients products on their shelves because expecting the staff to arrange them neatly and attractively is like expecting England to win the world cup. You know what I mean, each time you get your hopes up, thinking they really can't be as bad as you remember, and each time you walk away disappointed, shaking your head at some stupid mistake they've made (in the case of this particular superstore, not being able to separate out rump steaks from fillet on the shelf, leaving them all piled in a big heap in the middle that I had to sort out) but I'm going off track again. The point is I was doing a boring job, I was in a bad mood and my status was "You are not a cat!"
So what message do I get through? That's right, "Meow!"
Now I wasn't in the mood for talking, but having been forced to read 'the rules' by my friend I knew you should never dismiss someone immediately because they may be perfect for you (good call I think looking back) and so I skipped onto his profile to have a look.
Name: John Smith (either unfortunate or an obvious fake) Age: 22 (turns out something had screwed up when he'd imported his data and he was actually 24 which made me feel marginally less pervy at the grand old age of 28) Status: Bored Relationship status: Single Picture: None
Now why this didn't ring alarm bells I don't know, perhaps because there were so many openly married guys on the site, perhaps because I'd been talking to another nameless/faceless random for a few months and he had justifiable reasons for not posting his real name etc (doctor, didn't want to ruin his reputation or job by being known to be on the site), perhaps just because I'm incredibly naive and tend to assume people tell me the truth, either way hindsight is a wonderful thing but not much use at the time. So I replied, not particularly enthusiastically, "You are not a cat either," and chucked my phone in the bag ready to go to my next store.
Before I'd even reached my car a message came through, "How do you know?"
Not in the mood for playing games I snapped back, "Because a cat would never make the first move!" Then I got in the car and started the engine. Next message came immediately again, "Guess you've never seen Red Dwarf then?" The conversation continued with him telling me he was bored and me suggesting a bunch of things he could do, all of which he made excuses as to why he couldn't until eventually I lost my temper and told him to go and have a wank if he was that bored.
Weirdly that didn't seem to offend him and our conversations continued over the next few weeks with me finding him less annoying and more interesting as the days went on.
I found myself increasingly looking forward to speaking to him each day, he wasn't like a lot of the other guys on the site, he didn't tell me I was gorgeous or sexy (in fact when I showed him one picture of me at a party he likened me to SuBo!), he didn't ask me to send him dirty pics and didn't send me any of him either. On the odd occasion I sent him a (hopefully) erotic picture, hoping for a reaction, it was either not mentioned or he made some unflattering comment that often had me threatening to never send him anything again, but still I was hooked, what can I say, the treat 'em mean approach works guys.
Anyway after a while of this I suggested we meet up and he agreed, however each time I tried to pin him down to a date or time he'd wriggle out of it somehow, his flatmate needed a lift, he was working, he had an early start the next day and so on and I started to get annoyed, figuring he was playing some sort of game with me. Then out of the blue he agreed to meet me at the cinema the next day.
We'd been discussing fantasies and I told him that I'd never fooled around in the back row of a cinema before and so my mind was racing, wondering if I could actually do any of the stuff we'd talked about with effectively a complete stranger (and remember at this time I still didn't know what he looked like, the only picture I had of him showed his phone obscuring his face so all I could see was his hands holding the phone and his hair and ears around it. Had I zoomed out on that photo I would also have seen the ring on his left hand, but at the time I didn't realise I could, or needed to, do that, hindsight again).
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