Closing the Distance

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GEARHEAD85: So I’ll meet you in the lobby bar at 7?

GEARHEAD85: you there?

GEARHEAD85: Hey, if you’re having second thoughts…

FEMMEKITTY: No! 7 is fine. See you then

I turn off my phone’s screen, heart thudding against my chest. This is crazy! I admonish myself, a thousand “what ifs” running through my brain. Desperate for some kind of distraction, I head to the bathroom and draw a bath. Standing in front of the mirror while the tub fills, I give myself a hard perusal from head to toe.

The last time he saw me, my strawberry hair had platinum streaks and was still long enough to graze the top of my ass if I leaned back. It’s a dark auburn bob now, a sensible cut that barely reaches past my chin. My fair, freckled skin remains the same, of course, though the maze of tattoos covering my arms and back are new. My bright green eyes, exposed with contact lenses then, are shuttered behind Buddy Holly glasses now. Naturally, my tits have gotten bigger, I note. From a girlish 34C to a womanly 38DD, I’d never really been lacking in that department. I had the same narrow waist, but wider hips now; an hourglass shape he wouldn’t be familiar with. Gone was my teenage self’s impossibly flat stomach, but I’d come into my own, all sensual curves. Frustratingly, my height hasn’t changed a bit; I’m still just shy of 5’4.

Sighing, I turn off the water and slip into the steamy bath. Lots of people have seen me naked, I reason. He shouldn’t be any different. But it is different, and I know it. Because he is … was? … my first boyfriend, and now we’re going to have sex.

It started innocently enough: one of us found the other on Facebook. I’m not one for friending exes, but we only dated for about a month during our freshman year of high school. In the grand scheme of my love life, he was barely a blip on the radar. We parted on amicable terms, though — I was interested in someone else, so I told him and he said okay. We stayed friends, hanging out until my family moved away at the end of the year. And then, over a decade later, we’d found each other again.

Our initial messages were polite. And then amazed: how had we ended up in the same line of work? When we were teens, he wanted to be an Anglican priest and I wanted to go into law. But we’d both become foul-mouthed, drunken journalists. This serendipity led to a rekindling of our friendship, and late-night chats over too many beers. It was during one such session that I spilled some of my secrets. I reach over the side of the tub and grab my phone, thumbing through our past conversations.

GEARHEAD85: you do what now?

FEMMEKITTY: we have sex with other people. You know! We’re swingers

GEARHEAD85: that is a still thing?

FEMMEKITTY: it is for us, lol. I mean…I dunno, it’s fun

GEARHEAD85: But what do you…do?

FEMMEKITTY: Well, when a man and a woman feel like fucking…



GEARHEAD85: I mean, why do it with other guys?

FEMMEKITTY: other people


FEMMEKITTY: I have sex with other…people. I’m kind of…into women, too

GEARHEAD85: well this just got a lot more interesting

I’d talked about my lifestyle before, but explaining it to him was completely strange. He’d known a different me, the girl who’d been a virgin in all things.

GEARHEAD85: ok, so when did you become so wild? When we dated, you only hugged me once. And we were in a church

FEMMEKITTY: HA! I have no idea. College maybe? But I was experimenting with girls before that . I basically told my husband when I met him that I couldn’t be monogamous. I cheated on everyone i ever dated!

GEARHEAD85: You didn’t cheat on me. You broke up with me first

FEMMEKITTY: Wow you’re right! Aww, you must be special

Once we started talking about sex, it infected all of our conversations. Every time we spoke, our words were laced with his hidden knowledge about my activities. Scrolling down in my phone, I find the conversation that changed everything.

GEARHEAD85: I can’t stand this.


GEARHEAD85: every time we sign off, i’m wondering who you’re fucking

FEMMEKITTY: well that’s not creepy at all

GEARHEAD85: NO. I don’t mean. Fuck.


GEARHEAD85: Kocaeli Escort I mean I think about you being a slut


GEARHEAD85: GODDAMN IT. What I’m trying to say

FEMMEKITTY: think very carefully, because you’re sounding like an asshole

GEARHEAD85: I KNOW lol. Let me rephrase


GEARHEAD85: I knew you first. But you grow up different, confident, sexy. And it’s like other people can have you, but not me. You’re out of reach, all I can do is talk to you. I should be fucking your brains out, but all I can do is type


GEARHEAD85: I get a message from you and I’m instantly hard. I just want to take you like the slutty little cocktease you are. But…man, I know how fucked up that sounds

Thinking back, I remember staring at the keyboard, starting and stopping a hundred sentences.

GEARHEAD85: Are you there? You’ve been typing for like 20 mins…

FEMMEKITTY: so I’m your slutty little cocktease now, am I? What are you going to do about it?

GEARHEAD85: …what do you want me to do?

FEMMEKITTY: Oh no. That’s not how this works. You sound like you’re interested in a certain kind of play. If you’re worth playing with, you’d know that subs don’t get a say in what comes next. subs like me.

GEARHEAD85: Jesus, you’re a submissive?

FEMMEKITTY: I don’t suppose you’re a Dom?

GEARHEAD85: I think I want you to call me “Sir”


Despite the hot bathwater, I shiver at the memory of these interactions. Not long after that last exchange, I’d signed off, unsure of how to proceed. That night, I’d lay awake tingling and wet. There was a part of me that wanted to explore every aspect of this new friendship, to become some kind of text-based slave. My rational mind was more cautious. I hadn’t seen this man in years! Hell, I’d never met him as a grown man. He must have felt similar apprehensions, as it was another two weeks before we spoke again.

GEARHEAD85: Hiiiii


GEARHEAD85: lol, you don’t have to do that

FEMMEKITTY: oh now who’s the cocktease?

FEMMEKITTY: vagtease? Clit-tease?

GEARHEAD85: hey, I just meant no pressure

FEMMEKITTY: so what are we doing here

GEARHEAD85: I have no idea

FEMMEKITTY: me neither, I just want to see where it goes

GEARHEAD85: my guess is that it goes to a hotel room, and a bed, and many fuckings

There it was! The first time either of us had mentioned actually meeting up. I scrolled down, eager to re-read what came next.

FEMMEKITTY: I suppose that’s kind of inevitable now, isn’t it?

GEARHEAD85: yep, I’m going to have to hear you scream

FEMMEKITTY: oh rly? And how are you gonna make me scream?

GEARHEAD85: is that what we’re doing?

FEMMEKITTY: writing this out? Yeah why not

GEARHEAD85: Should we take this back to 2000? A/S/L?

FEMMEKITTY: you’re stalling! Do I still make you nervous?

GEARHEAD85: i think you’ll find that i’ve grown up. Fine, let’s say I was there. I wouldn’t kiss you, not at first. I’d push you up against a wall, grab the back of your hair, pull your head to the side and run my tongue over your neck, just where it meets your shoulder. I’d turn the lick into a kiss, and then a bite. Just a nip, really.

I remember gasping out loud, that first time I read these words. I hadn’t expected him to be good at this.

FEMMEKITTY: I’d like that…what’s next? I suppose you tear my clothes off and fuck me raw?

GEARHEAD85: well you’re impatient.

FEMMEKITTY: lol, call it intrigued

GEARHEAD85: no, next I’d sneak a hand under your shirt and play with your right nipple. Little strokes, and then pinching hard.


GEARHEAD85: but only for a second! I want to make sure I’ve got your attention. Because the next thing I’m going to do is kiss you

FEMMEKITTY: not too much tongue, I hate that!

GEARHEAD85: give me some credit! I’d pull your head back so your looking up at me, and then just barely brush my lips against yours. No force at all. Then I’d lick your bottom lip, like a question

FEMMEKITTY: I’d open my mouth, let Kocaeli Escort Bayan you really kiss me

GEARHEAD85: would you?

FEMMEKITTY: yes, because DAMN

GEARHEAD85: so I’d deepen the kiss, and press my whole body against yours so you could feel how hard I was

FEMMEKITTY: I’d buck up against you, spreading my legs a little. To be honest, I’d be fighting off a moan pretty hard

I giggle out loud. Reading over our past conversations is making me moan now. I spread my legs in the lukewarm water, slipping my unoccupied hand down between them. It’s not the bathwater that’s made my pussy lips so slick.

GEARHEAD85: I want to hear you moan. Actually, I want to hear you scream

FEMMEKITTY: Keep going then

GEARHEAD85: I think I’ll take your clothes off now. But let’s start with your pants

FEMMEKITTY: being bottomless always makes me feel a little dirty

GEARHEAD85: that’s because you are. I’d slip them down to the floor, pants and panties. I’d be kneeling in front of you now, but I think we both know who’s in charge

FEMMEKITTY: and should I spread my legs for you Sir?

GEARHEAD85: yes, and then I want you to beg me to eat you out

FEMMEKITTY: please eat me out

GEARHEAD85: tell me exactly what you want

FEMMEKITTY: I want you to lick my entire slit. I want you to tongue-fuck me, and then I want you to finger me while you tongue my clit. And then I want to cum on your face.

GEARHEAD85: say please

I slip my middle and ring fingers inside myself, bucking up against my hand. This is not the first time I’ve re-read our conversations. And it’s definitely not the first time the words alone have gotten me off. I scroll down to our most recent exchange.

FEMMEKITTY: would you fuck me now? I’m looking for some kind of resolution here

GEARHEAD85: oh are you getting off on this little chat?

FEMMEKITTY: aren’t you?

GEARHEAD85: I wish you could see how hard I am. Or better yet, feel it

FEMMEKITTY: and I’m dripping, OBVIOUSLY. So how would you fuck me

GEARHEAD85: hahaha why don’t you come find out?

FEMMEKITTY: very funny. I doubt even I could sustain a lady hardon for the hours it would take to drive to your place

GEARHEAD85: unless I’m in a hotel up the road from you


GEARHEAD85: meet me in the lobby at 7?

FEMMEKITTY: you’re fucking with me

GEARHEAD85: not yet

FEMMEKITTY: you’re really in town?

GEARHEAD85: So I’ll meet you in the lobby bar at 7?

GEARHEAD85: you there?

GEARHEAD85: Hey, if you’re having second thoughts…

FEMMEKITTY: No! 7 is fine. See you then

The clock on my phone reads 6:32. Just barely enough time to get dressed if I get my ass in gear. After a manic shower and not one, but two shaving nicks, I wiggle into a black pencil skirt and matching blouse. I forego the Fuck Me pumps, though. I’ve been called “sexy” a thousand times, but no one in their right mind ever referred to me as “graceful.” Finally, I apply a touch of lipstick and decide to call it good — if things go well, I don’t want makeup smeared all over my face.

The drive to the hotel seems to take hours, but suddenly I find myself walking into the lobby. There’s only one person seated at the bar. I’ve seen his pictures on social media, so I don’t know why I expected to see his freshman self. The gangly, awkward kid I knew is gone; the man in front of me is a stranger. Let’s just walk away, my reasonable side pleads. He hasn’t noticed you! But of course he looks up. His gaze was always warm and inviting, and nothing’s changed—beyond the look of panic dancing behind his deep, brown eyes. I silently pray that my walk over to him looks a thousand times more effortless than it feels.

“So. Do we hug?” My words come out a little breathless, but at least I’m smiling.

“We can hug! Old friends hug. Not that you’re old. Fuuuuck, this is going well.” He stands up, fumbling with his chair.

Giggling, I put my arms around him. He smells like soap and leather and motor oil, and I can see the motorcycle jacket slung across the back of his chair. I like the way his arms feel around me, but our hug is crossing over into that “weirdly long” category. I hastily Escort Kocaeli pull back, planting a kiss on his cheek as I go. And then we just… stand there. I decide that we were much better at hugging.

“Beer?” He asks after an eternity, and it’s the best idea I’ve ever heard.

An hour (and more than a few drinks) later, we’ve fumbled our way through all the casual minutiae a pair of old classmates can come up with. We’ve reached the weather, and rock bottom.

“So the summers are pretty terrible here, but we have very mild winters.”

“Yeah, I’d heard as much.” He suppresses a yawn, and I would very much like to die during the long, awkward pause that follows.

“Maybe this was a bad idea.” My voice is small, almost pained.

“Yeah… This was a fuckton easier to do while typing,” he grins.

“Not that the typing was always easy to do!” The words are out before I can stop them and I cover my mouth, flushing.

“Is that so?” He leans toward me, an unfamiliar—but not unwelcome—gleam in his eyes. “You’re a copywriter. Why on earth would you have trouble typing?”

We’re making a choice; I can feel it. The air between us has changed, and suddenly I’m hyper-aware of his presence. More than an inanimate, smirking avatar on the other end of an IM, here is the actual man I’ve been flirting with for months. More than flirting, he’s gotten me off over and over. I’d be an idiot to walk away now.

“You know exactly why,” I say, my voice suddenly low. I lean forward until my lips are against his ear, then whisper: “But take me to your room and I’ll show you.”

He’s out of his chair so fast, I nearly tumble over. But, in a surprisingly smooth move, his hand slips around my waist in time to prevent any public humiliation. I stand upright, our eyes meet, and I would very much like to kiss him. He holds my gaze a beat longer than my thundering heart would like, then pulls me toward the elevator. I half expect him to attack me as soon as the doors close, but he doesn’t. Instead we stand side by side, watching the floor numbers change. His hand still rests on my hip, and the warmth of this contact sinks into my skirt and settles between my legs.

He’s staying on the eighth floor, in a mini suite with a balcony overlooking the terribly un-scenic highway that runs through town. Ignoring the room’s other furnishings, I take a seat on the king-size bed. He settles in beside me, and we just… sit.

“So is it time for awkward small talk, part two: Talk Smaller?” I quip.

“We should not be bad at this!” He moans, putting his head on my shoulder.

“This stop-and-start thing is killing me,” I sigh, leaning into him. “You know, I really thought you were going to make a move in the elevator.”

“I thought about it!” He laughs. “I was going to pull you into me and kiss you. I already had my hand on your waist and everything.”

Pulling back, I turn to face him. “I wanted to kiss you in the bar. The way you grabbed me… well it was fucking hot.” My eyes wander to his lips, and I lick mine involuntarily. “You could just kiss me now.”

“I could, but you’d be expecting it.” How did he get so near to me? Our noses are almost touching, and I tilt my head to get closer. My eyes flick up to meet his, and then I close them in anticipation.

When his lips brush against mine, I shiver. It’s the lightest of pecks, almost chaste. But it’s enough to bring all the sexual tension that’s been simmering between us for months to a rolling boil. “I want you,” I growl, with my lips still pressed against his.

He pushes me down on the bed, and I pull up my skirt to wrap my legs around him. We’re a frenzy of hands and mouths, and one of us rips my blouse. His teeth find my shoulder and I gasp, arcing up against the hardness of him. My fingers fumble with his belt, and then his fly. He’s pulled down my bra to suck my right nipple, and again his bite sends electric shudders through me. Lost in the wanton need of it all, I pull my panties aside and guide him into me.

That first thrust hits deep and I cry out. The orgasm crashes into me, intense but short. When I come down, he’s staring at me. “Needed that?”

“Shut up and fuck me,” I mutter, bucking up into him again. He drives into me hard, and we’re both panting by the time it’s over.

“Hmm… as sexy as you are, all disheveled like this, I think I want you naked for the next go round,” he says, looking down at me.

“The next go round? Can we skip the hours of awkwardness this time?” I smile.

“Let’s stick to what we’re good at.”

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