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Subject: NEW "The Net Lovers" The Prelude (M/F)
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Warning: This story is for adults only. If you are a legal minor, you are
not allowed to read it under any circumstances. This story is also
copyrighted and cannot be reproduced for any purpose anywhere without the
written consent of the author. Email comments to J.B. Mast at
Mastwords1@aol.com
"The Net Lovers"
J.B. Mast
They met on the internet. Both of them were unpublished writers of fiction.
They had connected on a writers’ newsgroup. One electronic posting attracted
another and they began to trade emails directly.
They shared their thoughts and dreams of stories as yet unwritten. Even now,
five months of daily cyberchats, she still referred to herself only as S.
He was J.
She lived in a suburb on the northeast side of Chicago and his home was in
Portland, Oregon.
Even though the two of them had never shared first or last names, they had
grown to know each other’s feelings, attitudes and preferences about almost
everything else. J had learned about how S felt about art and music, how she
loved Picasso’s Blue Period and not his cubistic work, and of her interest in
Southwest American Indian Petroglyphs. She had shared with him her attitudes
about current women’s’ fashions, about where she stood in the Woman’s
Movement. She had told him about her childhood, her education, her career, a
failed marriage and much about her painful childhood.
S had a child, a son named Jason and J came to know how much she loved the
boy, how connected they were.
J knew almost everything about S and it was not a one-sided affair. J gave
her everything about himself in equal portions of childhood, family,
recreation, his work and his dreams.
By now, S knew how much he enjoyed preparing gourmet recipes and sharing them
with friends and family. He told her about his collection of jazz recordings.
She knew he wrote an investment newsletter for a living, about his
disappointments in love and his epiphanies, too. She knew his sexual
delights, what excited him, what an orgasm felt like to him.
Just as he knew how one felt to her.
But no names. He was J and she was S.
It was not as if they had overlooked the subject. They traded thoughts about
the consequences of revealing names and had, for the purpose of maintaining a
certain titillating intrigue, had decided against it.
What extra dimension would it add? they asked. What difference would it make?
After all, they would never really meet each other. Cybersex was a mind
thing. But they both understood the brain is the most powerful sex organ in
the body.
Things started to change for them about 90 days ago, on January first, New
Year’s Day.
The new year called for making fresh starts, new beginnings, they said, and
they decided to take a quantum leap into the future. They made plans to meet.
Together they had explored the net to evaluate travel information before
choosing a place to share a long weekend together.
They were to meet in Half Moon Bay, California, a small beach town on the
Pacific Coast Highway. They made reservations at the Mezza Luna, a complex of
oceanfront getaways. It had a restaurant which, according to the ad on the
world wide web, had a chef who had recently emigrated from a two star bistro
on the Left Bank in Paris.
S and J had agreed to meet in the lobby reception area of the Mezza Luna at
exactly twelve noon on April first.
They would have no difficulty recognizing each other. He knew she had long
oak blonde hair that she often wore tied back away from her ears with ribbons.
He would recognize her body by her five feet six height and slender shape, and
a wide mouth she compared to Carly Simon. S was 33 years old.
S would be looking for a six foot tall, sandy haired man, about 175 pounds and
44 years old. He had described himself as “o.k. looking, comparatively
speaking; no big round belly; wide shoulders but definitely not a muscle
builder.”
J checked into the Mezza Luna at 11:40 am and waited quietly, reading the
Half Moon Bay Weekly in a chair facing the entrance. S walked in at 11:58 am.
She put her bags down and saw him.
He looked up from his newspaper and when he looked at her, his heart skipped
its rhythm.
She smiled and walked toward him, extending her hand. They looked deeply into
each other’s eyes and held hands for a few seconds. J pulled her gently
toward him and whispered in her ear, “How about a little hug?”
She moved into his arms and they held each other. She whispered, “So nice to
meet you after being alone together for such a long time.”
“You’re just as beautiful as I’ve envisioned you,” he said.
“I’m a little nervous.”
“Me, too.”
“It’s like being in a romantic novel or something, you know?”
“Well,” J said, “even romantic heroines and heroes must have a roof over their
heads. Let’s go have a look at our new home.”
Their room overlooked a sandy beach cove. It was decorated with Tahitian
furniture and wall hangings. The bed was constructed from huge Timber Bamboos
and had a deep feather mattress with a South Pacific print duvet.
“Oh, my God,” she said. “It couldn’t be more perfect.”
There was a large basket of fresh fruit and a ice bucket with a bottle of
champagne on the coffee table.
“Care for a glass of champagne on the patio,” he asked.
“By all means,” she smiled. “Just let me freshen up first, O.K?”
He took the fruit and champagne out to the patio and awaited her. He was
stunned by her beauty. She must have prepped herself for the trip by going to
an electric beach, he thought. She had described herself to him with far too
much modesty. She was more, far more than he had expected to see in reality.
She was just as he’d told her, the woman of his dreams.
In the bedroom, as S was hanging her clothes, she was thinking of how it felt
when they had hugged in the lobby. He felt strong, his arms around her made
her feel safe and protected.
S put on a pair of loose fitting white silk slacks and decided on a gold light
cotton blouse. She left the top three buttons undone and looked in the
mirror.
As she combed her hair, she thought, “Very nice, if I do say so myself.”
Finally, she moved one curl over onto her forehead, her favorite finishing
touch. She stepped into her summer sandals and joined J on the patio.
“Welcome back,” he said. “Champagne for the lady?”
“Thank you,” she smiled.
Her lips made him say “I hope you don’t mind my saying how sexy your mouth is.
You know, you just described yourself as having a big mouth like Carly Simon.
S, you have a gorgeous face and especially your mouth. Just gorgeous. And
your body, well, we’ll get to that in a minute after I catch my breath.” He
loved the look he saw on her face.
“Thank you. We’re both good with words, but all I can seem to say is thank
you. I’m afraid I’m a bit speechless.”
“Salute!” He handed her a crystal flute of sparkling champagne and said,
“Here’s to us and the weekend of a lifetime.”
They touched glasses and drank a toast to their adventure. The surf was
coming in and they watched the breakers run up the beach for a few seconds. J
picked up some grapes from the fruit plate and offer her one. “Mmm,” she said
and moved toward him. Before placing the grape in her lips, he kissed her
lightly. S inhaled deeply as their lips met. He had surprised her, but she
kissed him back, briefly but in such a way that he would know she had enjoyed
it.
She took the grape from his fingers and as she felt it spurt in her mouth, he
held her hand, looked in to her eyes and said, “Forgive me for kissing you
just now. I just couldn’t help myself.”
“Oh, you don’t have to apologize. After all we’re old friends by now, aren’t
we, considering how much we know about each other. Besides, I thought it was
sweet.”
“You are my princess,” J smiled.
‘You’re going to embarrass me if you keep telling me how wonderful I am. But,
please, don’t stop now,” she laughed, tossing her long blonde curls back over
her shoulders.
She was thinking how she had enjoyed his romantic little kiss. She liked the
look of his face, his hair, his musty fragrance.
“O.k., he said, “let me talk about your body.” She played the game and
giggled, “Oh, please, go on, go on.”
He leaned back in his chair and said, “Would you do me a favor and stand up
and turn around?”
“If you promise to do the same for me,” she laughed. She stood up and turned
around in a pirouette. “How did I do?”
“Beyond all my hopes. You have the body of a goddess.”
“And you have a gift for hyperbole,” she said, enjoying it nonetheless. “Now
it’s my turn,’ she said. “Let’s see you.”
J shrugged his shoulders, stood up and did a slow turn. She noticed his wide
shoulders, his shapely buttocks, his muscled legs under his faded blue jeans.
“Not exactly Nicholas Cage, huh?”
S said, “You look just like his cousin, J Cage, but with nicer hair and a much
better nose. I like your t-shirt but I’m afraid it’s covering too much of you
up. Could I convince you to take it off?.”
“Ask and you shall receive,’ he said. He pulled it off and dropped it to the
floor.
She smiled, confidently. Then she got up and took him in her arms.
______________________________________________________________________________
_
Chapter two gets much hotter. I’ll finish it and post it on the newsgroup if
I get the slightest encouragement from readers. Please send your comments to
J.B. Mast ---Mastwords1@aol.com
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