As with some others I’ve posted, I’m not sure how I feel about this story, but I’m going to post it regardless. I wrote it a few years ago in an attempt to capture a scene of strangers separated by space and age having a flirty and dirty chat. I’ll post it here in pieces.
She chose the screen name “18 f likes older.” This was close enough to other names she had used over the years. For most of those years, she hadn’t been honest about the “18” part. Now that she was of age, some of the excitement seemed lost. She was no longer taboo to the men who sought her, but she hoped to still project a risqué allure. The bigger issue was that chatting was no longer new. She knew what to expect. Even if chatting had become routine, she longed for that very familiarity.
Logging in around four in the morning was late enough for her to bypass the virtual crowd. Users would still blast her with unsolicited messages, but not with more than she could manage. Most users would have logged off by now. They either got off or gave up. Some of her established chat friends might have recognized her at other times, but not at this hour. Those guys tended to quit around midnight. This didn’t matter much to her. Each new chat with a new man was new but familiar territory. Similar motifs would run through each chat, but with subtle and intriguing variations. The chats were like cover versions of a favorite song. The payoff was the same each time, but the style had become the substance.
The house and the whole neighborhood were still and silent. Her room was dark, save for the soft glow of her laptop screen. She reclined on a futon. Her old bed had been gone since she had started college. This wasn’t her bedroom any longer, which bothered her. Being home for the weekend wasn’t the same as truly being home. Regardless, with the spring semester closing and with familiar environs around her, she was happy to lapse into old habits. This would be comfortable after so many months of feeling uneasy. She completed her profile, slid off her pajama pants, and waited for messages.
After a mere four hours of sleep, he pulled himself out of bed and staggered back to the living room. The apartment was dark and quiet. Bar patrons would be home by now. The street below his window was empty. The sidewalk was lonesome. He was as alone as someone could be in a city. Feeling the weight of this, he flopped onto the couch, opened up the laptop, and began again.
The night before, he spent over two hours trying to convince other users to chat with him. Most closed the window as soon as he sent a message. This wasn’t the same as being refused. With so many users, the women on the site tended to be busy. He knew this too well. For months, he had been logging in under a few screen names, all variations on a theme. Chatting had been enticing, but also disappointing. He had managed a few delightful chats that had made him feel a connection and elation he couldn’t get anywhere else. The anonymity of these connections worked perfectly for him. He wanted something between an ongoing relationship and an occasional orgasm. Hiding behind his computer kept him safe while still allowing a certain level of engagement. Finding this engagement took session after session of rejection and frustration. Last night he thought he was on the way to a worthwhile connection, but it dissipated. Sometimes windows would close suddenly. This was upsetting. Although he preferred the anonymity of this forum, he’d never just abandon someone like that. After a disappointing denial, he went to bed dejected.
Sad as he had been just hours earlier, he woke up aroused. The few hours he spent in bed were listless and lustful. On an emotional level, he wanted company, and company who wanted him. On a physical level, he simply wanted to masturbate with someone. Coming alone got stale. He had done so offline before bed, but he couldn’t stay in bed knowing the potential for some help was waiting for him online. He longed. He tried again. He chose “up early 40m” and hoped to find someone in the same situation. The names began rolling before his eyes.
up early 40m: Am I old enough for you?
18 f likes older: sure
up early 40m: Having any fun chatting?
18 f likes older: not really
up early 40m: That’s too bad. Do you use this room often?
18 f likes older: sometimes
up early 40m: Have you been up all night, or are you up early?
18 f likes older: all night
up early 40m: I’m impressed. How long have you been on here?
18 f likes older: not long
up early 40m: Looking for anyone in particular?
18 f likes older: just someone nice
up early 40m: I’m looking for company, too. I’d be happy to keep you company.
18 f likes older: thanks. you’re sweet
He seemed good enough. He hadn’t approached her with an immediate plead to look at his cock, so that was a relief. She knew what she wanted, but she liked at least an illusion of courting.
She seemed perfect. She was talking with him at least, although her responses were so short and blunt he couldn’t tell if she was being sarcastic with him. He tried to say whatever was necessary to keep her talking.
Part 2 in a few days…