The Meeting Point

My hands are shaking as I walk down the hallway. Honest to god my knees knocking together as I move across the plush carpet.

She sent a text asking me to come to her room instead of meeting in the hotel bar. We’ve known each other for a year, but today is the first time we'll meet face to face. Online relationships are easy. You tease, you flirt, you confess your secrets.

Meeting? That’s something else. Shit! Room 622, that’s her room. She is on the other side of the door. When I knock she’ll open it and smile. Then do we hug? Shake hands? Would jumping on her for a kiss be too much?

Fuck, okay Sara, just knock on the damn door. You want this; you want to see/touch/breath/kiss/fuck her.

I knock, then wipe my sweaty palms on my pants, in case she wants to shake hands.

I hear the door open. Before I see her, a body crashes into mine, hugging me tight. “Oh my god, I can’t believe you’re here, we’re here. I can’t believe it.”

My hands lift and hug her, laughing into her shoulder. “Yes, hello, I’m here.”

She drags me into the room. The door slams behind me, solid, final. We are alone.

Her arms loosen and I step back. Our eyes meet, electricity almost knocks me off my feet but she grabs me again. Her hands smooth my hair. “You're even more beautiful in person. Sorry.”

I am lost, too lost for words, but I have to speak. Before it gets weird.

Her fingers stroke my jawline. “Sorry about the change in plans. I didn’t want our first hug to be in public. People from the con are down there.” Our mutual online friends, people I want to meet, but not more than this moment with her.

“Oh, same. It’s fine, I mean.”

“Good. Are you nervous? I am talking so much because I’m freaking out.”

We laugh. “Yes! I can’t speak because I’m so nervous.”

“Thank fuck, I was afraid it was because I couldn’t shut up.”

My hands settle on her hips and we sorta sway. “So should we go for a drink or…”

“We could, but I really kinda want to kiss you.”

“Oh, yeah.” My muscles tense to run. She wants to kiss me. “Please.”

We slowly move in, lips brush. I grip her sides so my hands aren’t shaking noticeably. She is so soft, sweet, tender. My whole body shakes when her tongue slips past my lips, silk touch stroking my mouth.

“Are you okay? We can—”

“No! I mean yes, I’m good. Nervous. Excited. I’ll try not to leave a puddle.”

Her eyes spark. “Now I’m curious.”

Do or wither, now or never. I pull my t-shirt off, skin bubbling in the cool air, I stand in the bra I bought for her.

We kiss again. No softness now, hungry and hot mouths. Hands urgently scouting locations that elicit moans and gasps as our clothes melt.

Panties only now, both black with lace trim. Hers are wider boyshort cut and mine are bikini. Nerves return as I stare at her nipples, flush, ripe — ready.

She guides my head to one, and it pokes my lips begging. So I suckle her, lick the tip. Her moans urge me to bite. She squeals and I move to her left, sucking, biting. My hands caress her thighs, I need to know if she’s as wet as I am.

A soft brush over the cotton covering her slit answers: dripping. I rub harder, then bring her scent to my face. “Fuck I need—”

“—panties off,” she finishes.

My heart pounds like a bass drum as she peels them away, revealing carefully groomed hair. It scrapes my hand while I pet the sweet pussy until she purrs.

“How many times did we type this fantasy?” she asks, spreading wider, inviting me.

“So many, but you like when I make you beg.”

“Please lick me. Please use your soft tongue to make me come all over your face.” She pulls away to lie on the bed.

“Such a good girl. Only my tongue then.” I kiss her slit, then part the lips so I can lick her honey. When I'm drunk on her taste, I focus on her clit. With my tongue, I write her name and mine.

Arousal courses through me, electric snapping in my belly and spreading. The closer she gets to orgasm, the higher her moans and the hotter I am. I don’t need her to touch me, her climax will be my own. She’s inside me as she writhes under my tongue.

My movements slow and she pants, legs closing on my head. “Shit, I’m so fucking close. Please.”

“I like you right here. At my mercy.”

“You know your turn is next and revenge is sweet?” Her voice is innocent.

“I live dangerously.” My tongue returns to the soft flicks against the tip of her clit. She writes under me, her hands tearing at the bed, moaning for me.

I want to come, I’m ready. Sucking her clit into my mouth, makes her break. She bucks against me, riding me for pleasure. And I jerk, flooding with vicarious satisfaction. The electric unleashed and I moan, lapping at the deluge from her.

She pushes me away, limbs twitching.

“You nearly drowned me. Fuck if that wasn’t the best orgasm of the year.”

“You came too? Were you fingering yourself?”

“No, just from making you come.” I wipe my face with the back of my hand.

Her chest heaves as I crouch down to grab my phone, checking the time. “We should get downstairs to the meet and greet,” I sigh as I flop down on the bed next to her.

“We’re coming back up right after though.”

I smile and lean over to kiss her. “Anything you say.”

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