The last sane bloke in Chicago

Missed Chemistry Connection (NSFW)

I've a history of being "online." Back in the 80s, I was affiliated with a large BBS with international reach. I was on the Internet in 1989, before WWW was even a term. My oldest email address reaches back to 1989, and I still monitor it from time to time.

While meeting bloggers is something new for me, something I appreciate a great deal, I've been meeting people from online communities since my teen years. Most of the time it was uneventful. One person I had met was from an early Internet community back in 1993.

My name online was my real name. Even today, on most blogs and websites and news forums, I use my real name. Googling it will bring up almost 20 years of posts and comments and stories and written entries. It's fun to see people try to look me up online and then freak out that there are almost a million hits if you enter my name in all its variations. All of them are me, I've written and commented and been quoted and interviewed that much.

I met Sheila on a forum. We had an odd connection in that we came across each other on 15 different forum groups, which had no real connection to each other. Eventually our differing opinions led us to becoming the "leaders" of two different groups of opinion-sharers, since we each had the best ability to debate the others.

3 months into it, she contacted me through private email wondering where I was from. I told her I lived in the Chicago area. Surprisingly, she was from Evanston, going to college at Northwestern. Surprise, surprise, young journalist friend.

We made plans to meet in the summer. Sheila at first meet was gorgeous: mocha skin since she was about 1/8th black, beautiful blue eyes, amazing european hair with just a touch of kink. She dressed like a tom boy, though, so her body was hidden from me. Baggie everything, but a perfect neck line.

We quickly became friends, meeting up at a local pub for drinks and sandwiches at least a few times a month. She had a boyfriend, I had a fuck buddy, there wasn't much chemistry evident from her to me. I considered making a pass at her, but she never showed me a single sign of interest, other than the many hours we spent talking about loves and hates, virtues and sins, food and drink. One time we spent over 12 hours together, laughing and lying, poking and prodding, joking and joshing. It was a fun friendship, but I found myself excessively attracted to her body as much as her mind. I was young, but I still knew when a woman wanted me as more than a friend.

Still, I had my fuck buddy, and after meeting Sheila I'd always go over to her place and rail her for hours, with Sheila's skin and face and lips and hair on my mind. I don't think the fuck buddy cared that I was so aggressive after meeting the other lady, and she fully well knew that I had the major spooge-urge for this college scholar. I'm sure she actually appreciated the fantasy sex, but we never discussed it.

After a few months of our casual-and-serious conversations, she invited me over to her place so I could show her my cooking techniques. Her boyfriend, who also went to school with her, was home for the summer for a few weeks. I didn't ask about him, but she ventured that information.

I cooked for her with no recipe, and with mostly things SHE bought from the store. Non-sequitir shopping style, just like me, this one had. 2 hours of preparing, 1 hour of baking and frying and checking the oven and stove top. 10 minutes of plating and pairing a wine from her minimalist collection and it was done.

Her face was shocked at the flavor, texture, mouth feel and bouquet. There's nothing sexier than a woman who closers her eyes when she eats (meet Anonymous Blogger #2 for this, friends). It's food sex, certainly.

Her apartment was hot now, both from the oven and stove top session, as well as the lack of a decent air conditioner. I told her I should clean out her A/C to make it more efficient, but she told me she liked a little sheen of sweat on her. I did, too.

Because of the heat, her sweat shirt finally came off. She was wearing a tight blue cami, and then shorts. Her body was fantastic, better than I had fantastized. No bra added to my discomfort, and the fact that she was post-orgasmic after dinner made me consider leaving stage left and running for my fuck buddy. But she wanted to talk more, to come down from her food high.

We chatted, and as 11pm came around I was drenched in sweat, as was she. She was sitting to my right, with a hell of 18 inches between us. I prayed and begged the maker to let her fall closer, as a sign of her wanting my touch. Sadly, it didn't happen. No touches, no flirtations other than the usual, no talk of what may lay ahead in her bedroom where the air conditioner was installed. Shit.

As the clock struck 11, she said she had to shower, she was too sweaty and needed to relax under the stream of water. I jokingly told her we should conserve water, and she finally gave me a flirtatious smile and said "We could." I looked at her closer, and then she said "We should." Perplexed, I wasn't should if I should have enveloped her in my arms and put my mouth on hers, so I took a half step backwards.

"We're not going to fuck. Or even touch. I have a boyfriend, but I think you and I would be more comfortable if we saw each other naked. Just once, at least." Only once? "Who knows, but it will lessen the sexual frustration in the room." You can sense it? "I meant mine." Uggggh.

So she grabbed my hand and took me into her surprisingly large bathroom. Her apartment was obviously a larger condo decades ago, split in two with a wall in the wrong place. I stared at the size of her bathroom, never having visited it before. "We got the big one," she said into my thoughts. She had an enclosed shower and a separate bathtub, it was a bathroom dream come true.

Her cami came off and her gorgeous breasts were less than 2 feet from me. My cock got hard instantly, impossible to hide in my summer shorts. She walked up to me and took my shirt off, then put a hand on my shoulder. "No touching in the wrong way" she said as she looked down on Little Fire Hydrant pushing through my trunks.

Then her shorts came off, her panties immediately after. Her pussy hair was gorgeous, just perfectly trimmed. Her body was muscular, her skin the perfect color of caramel. She was almost flawless, her hips a bit bonier than I would like.

She pointed at my shorts and then made a fast finger fall towards the ground. I embarassingly took off my trunks, and Little Fire Hydrant was in full view. "Wow, not bad for a little man." I blushed and she turned the shower on.

She stepped in and let the water fall on her. Then she backed away in the large shower and put her hands behind her on a hand rest. Her tits stuck out, her legs were slightly spread, the water from her hair fell down her shoulders and her ribs and her hips.

I got under the spray myself and let it fall over my face, pointing to the sky. I was trying to think of the seduction of the water, not the woman mere inches behind me. Little Fire Hydrant was drenched in his own liquid, the water mixing with my precome. This isn't helping, the water needs to be completely cold.

She lathered up, her hands playing on every part of her body that I wanted my mouth on or my cock in. She squirted the liquid body wash on my chest, but she didn't take the next step I so wanted. I had to lather myself up.

We swapped sides, my cock glancing against her ass cheek which brought forth a giggle from her and a groan from me. She rinsed off, turning to face me a few times, locking her eyes on my eyes instead of on my cock. I kept my hands on my own body, trying to focus on the oils and scents of the body wash. I still had soap on my cock, I was that afraid to grab it to rinse it off.

We swapped sides again, this time not touching in any way. I rinsed off and asked her if I should turn off the shower. "No. I'm fucking horny as hell. Let's swap sides again. Keep your hands off of me." Why do you keep thinking I'm going to touch you? "Because I want to touch you, badly."

She got to the shower head again and removed it from the holster. She turned, her shoulder blades touching the cold wall causing her to jump forward slightly before leaning back on the wall. She put her hands on her belly and slide her palm down over her pubes to her pussy lips, spreading them apart with two of her fingers. Her pink pussy was gorgeous, and I wanted my mouth on it all, very badly.

Her other hand brought the shower wand to her knees and turned upward. Her thumb flicked a button which changed the soft spray into a combination of soft spray and shuddering focused blast. When the blast hit her clit, she moaned.

I couldn't handle it anymore, so I stroked my cock, looking at her mouth and her tits, her thighs and her hips, her pussy convulsing slowly under the hard and soft pressures of the water hitting it. Her face was gorgeous, completely sexual but still youthful. I was so close to putting my hands on her shoulders and forcing her to her knees so my cock could slip between her lips.

Out of nowhere, she came, really hard. She stared at my face as she came, her eyes wide and her mouth open. I remember the orgasm clearly, the sound, the texture, her voice, her body shuddering. I wasn't close to coming, but I could have then and there. She was gorgeous during and just after her orgasm.

Then she slid down the wall in the sexiest move I have seen to this day. Her back was against the bottom of the shower wall, her legs spread, her pussy still open, her hands on her knees and the shower head dangling, throwing water in random directions. If I could have, I would have fucked her silly, right there.

I stroked slowly, unsure if I should come now or wait until she stepped out of the shower. "Ok, I'm doing this for me." What? "I want you to come on me. Your dick is gorgeous, and I need to feel something of yours on my body. Don't get any ideas, though, it's all up to you." My cock grew harder seeing her mouth those words. It felt like a fantasy, but it was happening before my very eyes.

She got on her knees and put her hands on my hips. I stroked, asked her where she wanted it. "On my tits, if you want. Not in my mouth." Can I come on your gorgeous face? "I don't usually like that, but yes. If you want." I do. I stroked for only a minute longer as she moaned and cooed for my load.

And then it came out, her mouth closed, her eyes closed, her face tilted back as if it would provide more surface area for my come. I unloaded barrels of jizz on her chin and her neck, some on her ear and in her hair, even a little on the tip of her nose. She opened her mouth to moan when I noticed her hand was playing on her pussy again. As I finished my final spurt which fell short of her face and landed on her right breast, she came again, pounding her hips into her hand, one hand gripping my hip with force.

My cock was still hard, harder from her second orgasm. I really wanted it in her mouth or her pussy or even her ass, wherever she wanted it. She rubbed my come from her face to her neck, more on her tits as she grabbed the shower head and let water run down her hair and face, mixing with my come all over her torso.

She opened her eyes after cleaning off and saw my cock was still hard. "Geez, what are we going to do about this now?" You came twice, why shouldn't I? "Oh, you think you have a right to blasting that thing again at me?" I do. It's either that or you stand up, bend against that wall, and take it in your cunt. "I'm surprised you didn't finish that with Bitch." Fine, either you get another taste here, or I'll fuck your cunt, bitch. She smiled. I smiled. Neither of us had a power trip, just playful, friendly banter.

Her hands returned to my hips, and her mouth started uttering the vulgar words of desire that I love so much. I returned both hands to Little Fire Hydrant, and stroked with my eyes on her eyes, looking at her mouth and thinking how easy it would be to pull her hair hard, eliciting a scream, and then forcing my cock down her throat as she finished her yell. But I refrained.

As I listened to her words, and felt her hands on my hips pulling and pushing and grabbing and twisting, I knew I was close. I warned her and her eyes closed again, her lips pursed together, and her face pushed forward. I unleashed again, sending another load at her mouth, still closed, but the next load landed in her closed eye socket. Fuck. A few jets hit her chin, which caused her to smile. My hands wanted to grab her hair, but instead I grabbed the handrail behind me and fell back on it.

"God damn you're hot. I'm sorry we can't fuck." I'm not. "Really? You don't want to?" Of course I do, but this was better. I think you're right, the sexual frustration needed to be settled. She laughed, a lot. I did, too.

She rinsed off my come again, and sprayed the water on my cock and onto my belly and hands. "You taste pretty good." I thought you said none in your mouth. "A girl has to know." I smiled.

The water turned off and she toweled off and then threw me a towel. She pulled her clothes back on, as did I. Eventually, we returned to the couch, not mentioned what happened for that half hour. When I left, she hugged me and kissed my cheek. "Most guys would have tried something more." More guys are morons. "Thanks for being a gentleman." That was the second time in my life I heard it, but never the last. I thanked her for being her.

Over the next few weeks, we repeated that same act, only once in the shower. She let me cover her face in my car. One time she took my cock in her mouth for a few minutes, but had to stop because she wanted it so badly elsewhere. When her boyfriend returned, I was immediately good friends with him. We barbecued. We rode motorcycles. She laughed at how well I got along with him.

Our interludes with her on her knees never repeated, although we are friends to this day, so many years later. We never fucked, and the only real sexual touch was the one time my cock was in her mouth, and one time she let me play with her pussy lips while she batted at her clit. I'm mostly happy we didn't fuck, but I have never had sex ruin a friendship -- never. I think there's still a chance, someday, for it. We've talked about it off and on during our friendship, but never took the step needed to fulfill that urge.

Sometimes urges are more fulfilling than completion. It's not like running a marathon or a sprint, it's like building up the power and strength to attempt them. We're all build up, for now.

Posted by ChicagoSane at 12:46 PM

Labels: facial, friendship, mutual masturbation, shower