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Once, years ago, I was chatting with a girl on IRC about some really nerdy computer stuff, and somehow the topic of sex came up. We were both happily attached, so that's where we started.
It began with us telling little stories about the things we'd done -- like how I'd once fucked my girlfriend on a picnic table in a park in the middle of the day, and how she'd gone out with her boyfriend to a club commando in a skirt and made him wait all night to get her in the bathroom.
It soon got more elaborate, since we were both obviously getting hot over it, and moved to a long-term e-mail exchange. After a few more days and a dozen more e-mails, we started talking about new things, fantasies we hadn't explored yet, planning to put them into action and encouraging each other to do it.
Eventually, she confessed to me that our secret exchanges were getting her horny as fuck and that she'd masturbated over them frequently, to which I replied, of course, that it'd been pretty much the same story with me. Now, we'd long since exchanged tame pictures -- and was she ever hot -- but on hearing this she treated me to a couple of new ones that were decidedly not tame. I nervously reciprocated, and in her next note she related vividly how she'd fingered herself at work thinking of me.
Up until this point, our little thing's main effect had been to turn me into a total sex machine at home -- my girlfriend had been spending a lot of time walking around smiling, when she wasn't on her back screaming. But now, things were getting heavy.
We continued our exchange despite my reservations, and from then on it had become an entirely new beast: we were far more involved in each other's fantasies, and frequently abandoned ourselves to all-out cybersex to realize fantasies we shared with each other but not with our lovers. She even called me on the phone once. I was receiving a deluge of pictures of her hot, naked body and descriptions of what she'd do to me if, nay, when we met in person.
I started to get a bit worried, because it was obvious this girl literally wanted us to cheat and fuck each other\\'s brains out, and I wasn\\'t sure I\\'d be able to say no when the time came.
My fears, such as they were, were realized when I got a note with the absolute hottest picture I'd ever seen attached to it -- her in black stiletto heels and hoop earrings and nothing else, smooth legs spread wide, back to the floor, tits to the sky, shaved pussy beckoning me in -- and a time and place I could definitely make that afternoon. My heart pounded uncontrollably. My hands shook. I paced. I didn't go back to work.
But I couldn't do it.
That evening, I got a second short note expressing her disappointment, complete with a little crying emoticon, and that was it. I talked to her a few times after that, mostly about computer stuff, and then one day she was just gone.
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