For almost two years we had been chatting regularly in the evenings on a social network.
I had met this man by pure chance one day on a political forum and we had exchanged our ideas on the subject. Then, one thing leading to another, on messenger, we talked about politics, work, our passions, our lives in general, but all this in the most perfect respect and without any wrongdoing.
He said he was 45 years old, married with two children. He lived somewhere near Poitiers, but in the end I didn’t know anything about it and I didn’t care. He was open-minded, very intelligent and cultured and that’s what I liked about our exchanges.
One evening, for what reason I don’t remember, we decided to write a short novel together and to publish it on a well-known website. On this site, the texts are rated by the readers, and then we set ourselves a challenge which consisted in giving ourselves a pledge according to the rating.
I had bet on a mark below 15/20 and he on a higher mark.
The pledge I gave him was to send me a selfie of him with his family. On the other hand, he also wanted a photo, but the subject would be determined at the appropriate time….
We published this text, the comments were all very positive, the marks were much higher than we expected and very quickly the average was between 17 and 18. After a month we were well above the fateful 15/20.
The subject of the pledge then fell by the wayside, he told me each time that we would see that later, later…
A few days ago I went to Paris for a professional training with two of my colleagues. I travelled for 2 hours by TGV and I connected during this time. My friend from the evening was also connected, we were chatting but he quickly came back to my famous pledge.
The evening came and as decided I discreetly reconnected before the show started. My visitor of the evening was there.
I explain to him that it’s a black dress, slit on the right thigh with self-fixing stockings, and taken by the atmosphere of the room I even admit to him that it is worn without a bra.
A long silence in the messages, he didn’t write anything more, I was dumbfounded, then a little trip to the toilet and I came out with my panties in my hand.
Yes, I dared, I dared the unthinkable, the unimaginable…but probably the anonymity of Messenger and the fact that he didn’t know my name or my address. I put those panties on the sink and prayed that no one would come in at that moment, then I sent him the damn picture.
When the show was over my colleagues wanted to go dancing and I preferred to take a taxi back to the hotel.
Crossing the streets of Paris at night in a beautiful Mercedes taxi, feeling the leather of the seat on my buttocks, the cold of the seat directly on my skin, and even on my intimacy, was something fantastic, unreal and terribly exciting… I was on a little cloud thinking I was one of those TV stars. I wished the ride would never end, it was such a magical moment. Then getting out of the taxi in front of the hotel with a slit dress, no panties and stepping over the pavement seemed like a real challenge to which I had no escape. I did it while avoiding all eyes, especially that of the driver.
I put my phone on the shelf, sat down in front of it, plugged in the camera, opened my handbag and took out those famous panties live. At the same time it was the first time he had seen my face, seen me in the flesh.
Then we chatted for a long time on messenger on video and for the first time the discussion went quite quickly with the story of my evening, my feelings at the cabaret and finally in the taxi.
Still with the camera I lay down on the bed and we told each other like two old friends about our adventures, our fantasies, our desires, our wishes and our delusions. A discussion without any taboo, without any restraint and confessing even our worst and most intimate secrets.
As this conversation progressed I felt good, the details without modesty began to warm me up, not to say excite me. Then, with the camera pointed at my face, my right hand slipped under my dress and entered between my lips. Slowly, slowly at first, then crescendoing until I felt the no-return coming.
At that point I pretended to fall asleep and wanted to go to bed.
I put the camera on the bedside table and accidentally, not to say deliberately, pointed it at the bathroom, brushed my teeth, took off my make-up, put on my dress and stockings, took a little pee in front of the door and went back to my bed naked. And above all naked in front of the camera!
This time alone on my bed I finished my work, the right hand on my lips, the fingers waving frantically inside me, the left hand rolling and kneading my nipples, and the point of no return was very largely exceeded.
The night was very short, partly awake and mostly full of questions.
The next morning, feeling really guilty towards my family, I unsubscribed from facebook and messenger and I never saw him on the net again.
Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/119wsp5/f_f28_a_virtual_lover