"Fucked by me?"

Smiling I teased him. "Fucked by anyone Matt, but especially by you."

We both knew this was impossible for his wife was downstairs and my daughter was in the next room.

"Really? Especially me."


"Do you really mean that?"

"On here, yes I do."

"Are you sure, are you positive about that?"

We'd spoken about 'going all the way' several times, but either the time wasn't convenient, we just talked about it so much that we talked ourselves out of it, there were others around or I backed out. This time, though, I meant it. I wanted to do it. I wanted to do it with him. With Matt, my electronic lover, my soon to be cyber-sex-partner. Yes, I wanted to fuck myself for him.

We rarely chatted at week-ends as it was difficult for both of us, but I received an email on the Sunday.

"Just once more my darling, are you positive about this? Tell me no and there'll be absolutely no problem. Tell me yes and I'll be hard and rampant until we meet at noon on Monday."

We'd ended our chat on the Friday making a date for Monday. And once we'd done that it did feel exactly like a date. The very special date that couples often make; the date when they know they are going to consummate their relationship; the date when all the awkward kissing, the fumbling and furtive gropings, the touches, caresses and stroking all come together; the date when they do go all the way, when at last they make love, finally have sex and fuck each other's brains out. That was the date we'd made for noon on Monday!

I typed back.

"Yes, yes, a million times yes. I want you."

It was an odd weekend. I hadn't got much planned; some shopping on Saturday and take away pizzas with the family in the evening. Tennis on Sunday when I played so badly, followed by a snack at the club and home early for an evening's TV with John. I hoped that he would make an advance either during the evening as he used to in the past or when we went to bed. I felt sure that had he taken the initiative and started something that led us to making love then I wouldn't be 'unfaithful' with Matt on the Monday. Unfortunately, nothing happened and my time to meet Matt grew ever nearer.

But it wasn't that which made it odd, it was how I felt. It was as if I was going on a real date, as if we'd agreed to make real love. As if Matt really was a new lover, a lover with whom my relationship had deepened to the point that we'd made this pact for Monday. All Saturday, more so Sunday and especially as I watched TV with John on Sunday evening and then slept with him I became more and more curious.

'What will it be like?' I wondered, my mind continually thinking of tomorrow, almost forgetting it would be a virtual and not a real fuck.

'Will I be able to do it, go through with it and finish myself off with him?' I asked myself.

'Will I,' it suddenly struck me like a charge of electricity. 'Be able to make myself cum as I chat to him? Will I be able to say and do the right things? Will I find the words to make love on-line? Will I be able to fuck myself to an orgasm as he tells me what he's doing? Or will I,' I smiled. 'Simply cum too quickly or, not cum at all?'

I didn't know the answers to any of the questions for sure, but at that moment lying beside my snoring husband they didn't seem to matter too much. No, as the neckline of the nighty slid down beneath my breasts and as the lacy, short, silk skirt slid up my legs, tomorrow really did seem so much like another today. And as one of my hands found the soft fullness of my boobs and the hardened crinkliness of my nipples so the questions became irrelevant. And finally, as my other hand found the sopping wetness between my legs, nothing seemed to matter for I was writhing to silent orgasmic satisfaction.

Monday morning was hell. I can't begin to work out how many times I changed my mind. This whole idea was becoming an obsession and taking on an importance far beyond merely masturbating, for in reality that's all it was, wasn't it? In reality I was going to take my clothes off, touch myself then make myself cum. Just as I had last night in bed and the night before on the sofa and Friday evening in the shower. In reality it was just masturbating, wasn't it? Yes, it may well have been just masturbating, but it wasn't really reality was it? True, with Matt reading every word I typed and him typing back, it couldn't be termed fantasy either, so what was it? I had no answer to that. Is there a state between the two? Perhaps rantasy or feality? Maybe what happens on the web needs some new terms like that? But then of course we do have cyber and virtual don't we? Yes, I concluded that's what it was, a virtual fuck.

I was wearing just a robe when I logged on and checked my mails. My heart pounded when I saw there was one from him. Glancing at my watch I saw it was 11.30.

"I'll definitely be there at noon, naked and numb with hardness for you, my darling. I'll understand if you don't make it or if you have a change of heart when we're talking."

I quickly typed back

"I'm just getting dressed especially for you Matt, I'll be there when you want me."

The silk felt incredible on my breasts. It was so smooth, cool, lustrous and caressing, that I was sure that my skin under it was of a much higher temperature than normal. The image in the full-length mirror thrilled me. 'What an arrogant, hedonistic vain woman I can be,' I thought as I looked at myself clad just in the pale pink, silk blouse. The hem of it was around my hips the lapels were open with just two buttons done up. They were caught on my nipples, that I saw with a wry smile were almost exactly the same colour as the blouse. My breasts were full but had that sag that older woman who've suckled children have. My waist was nicely indented, but the tummy that should have been cosseted after birth or should have received many hours of attention in the gym, did bulge a little, my mum tum as John had use to call it when he kissed and stroked it. Not alarmingly, not in a Christmas pudding like way of a pregnancy bulge, but it was of size where being undressed by a younger man had to be avoided or done in the dark if possible. It did, fortunately, almost vanish when I was lying on my back naked or near so, but then the bloody tits flopped to each side so, as with woman my age, I couldn't win could I?

'Maybe,' I thought smiling. 'That's the attraction of sex via the net, no peeping eyes?'

I'd promised Matt that I'd dress to excite him and that was what I was doing.

"Or was I," I thought as I slid into the Agent Provocateur panties that were as ridiculously brief as they were ridiculously expensive, £40 just to cover those thin lips and then be cast aside. 'What women do to please and thrill their lovers, or is it perhaps for themselves,' I thought grinning?

"Again Jay are you sure?" came up on my screen in, what seemed, a rather matter of fact reply to my invitation of, 'Matt now you can fuck me.'

'Yes, yes I am,' my writing, looking to be far more assured and confident than I felt, came up on the screen.

'Oh God Jayne.'

'Yes Matt, yes I know.'

'I'm so excited but so nervous,' I told him truthfully.

'So am I and have been all weekend?'

'Did you make love to Fiona?' I asked referring to his wife whose photo I'd seen.

'Yes I did, it was fantastic,' he told me.

It was that we could have such a conversation where we could discuss our own lovemaking that made my relationship with Matt so different to any other I'd had on the web. I'd told him practically everything I'd done in the past, and he'd told me lots about he and Fi's sexual habits, likes and dislikes, which included some partner swapping and attending mild orgies.

'Good, I'm pleased,' I replied.

'But not as good as how our fantasy lovemaking is, or will be. Not as good as how it's going to be.'

'No that's better, ours isn't real, that is.'

"No Jayne, ours is real, just different."

"Yes that's true."

"What are you wearing?"

"A pink, silk blouse and you?"

"Just the tight, white CK long boxers you like. Nothing else?"

"On me, you mean?"


"A little thong."

"What colour."



As that exchange was taking place, I was clicking on my picture gallery. I brought up the photo he'd sent me a few weeks ago and any doubts about my arousal vanished as I looked at him. He wasn't that tall or muscular, just nice, with no excess weight and a, frustratingly to me given my bulges, flat stomach. The white, almost cyclist shorts length boxers clung to him like a second skin. They accentuated and emphasised his genitals making them, as maybe they were, I didn't know for I'd never seen them, look huge. Not the boastful type at all I'd had to drag out of him that he had a thrillingly seven inch long and three-inch diameter cock!

I was almost shivering with desire as I imagined him at his PC in that deliciously alluring underwear.

"Just them Matt?"

"Yes love just my boxers, just those tight white boxers you like so much. Just those skin tight pants that cling to me so closely."

"Mmmmmm," I clicked feeling the surge of arousal at the words he was manipulating me with.

"The ones you said made my cock look big."

"It does Matt; I have it on screen now."

"Does it look big now? Would you like to see it right now?"

"Yes, yes Matt it looks huge."

Suddenly the window in which we were chatting said,

"Matt has invited you to photo share, accept or decline."

I don't usually like pictures of men's erections. To an extent it's 'seen one seen 'em all,' well to me at least. Obviously, that's different when looking at the real thing. When near to a penis that you know you've made hard, it's a totally different ball game. When up close and personal to something that's shortly going to invade you, plunder your insides and do such amazing things to your mind and body then, they look fantastic. But on a computer screen or a paper, no thanks not for me, usually.

But Matt's cock looked magnificent. It was big, it was long, it was thick and in the about to be fucked state I was in, it looked beautiful. Yes, though cocks, most of the time, have little going for them and certainly are low on aesthetic values, when hard, hot, nearby and are about to be shoved right up inside you then they really can look beautiful. Beautiful and powerful is how I like to consider a cock that I am about to absorb.

"Oh Matt," I whimpered, adding. "Thank you, thank you," remembering that last week he'd asked if I'd like such a photo of him and I 'd said I would.

"Oh yes," I went on as several more of him in various naked poses lit up my screen.

"What's under the blouse babe?" came up, making me tear my eyes away from his body and cock

"What would you like to be under it if we were together?" I asked rather coyly given the circumstances.

"Nothing of course."

"Spot on Matt, you got it in one." I typed trying to sound sexy in print.

"Does it feel nice Jay, the silk on those big, full tits of yours?"

"Mmmmmm," wonderful.

"Are you rubbing your boobs, through the silk?"

"Yes," I told him truthfully feeling a shudder go through me as my fingers found my nipple and caressed it through the pleasure giving silk.

"And down below are you naked there as well?"

"No Matt, just that nice little thong, I told you."

"Oh yes, sorry I forgot."

"That's ok it's just like this," I said as I forwarded him the web address of the erotic underwear site that showed the most gorgeous, but annoying stick-like model in the thong with shots from the back and front.

"I bet that looks fantastic Jayne, are you looking at that thong?"

"No of course not," I typed as I started getting a little more involved with the silk on my breasts.

"Yes, but you should be Jayne."

"Lol," I typed turning to the chat room vernacular. "What, pray sir are you suggesting?" I asked in the mock, shock way we sometimes messed around as I undid the buttons on my blouse and pushed my boobs together with the silk between my hands and my skin.

"Well, my naughty, randy Jayney just one thing."

"Yes and what can that be I wonder?"

"Take your fucking thong off," came up followed by "lol."

"Well as you ask so diplomatically how could a girl decline?"

With hands that were visibly shaking I slid the delicate, luxurious material of the thong down and stepped out of it.

"Have you? Have you taken it off for me?"

"Yes Matt," I typed feeling very free, aroused and amazingly expectant, "Are you naked?"

"Yes darling, totally naked as you want me. Are you wet?" he asked.

"Of course I am Matt, are you hard?"

"Yes, of course."

"How hard?"


"Are you as hard as you can be Matt?"

"Yes as hard as I ever have been."

"As hard as you would be if I was there? If I was there Matt dressed as I am here?"

"How are you dressed now?"

"Just the silk blouse which is undone," I told him.

"So you can see your cunt now can you?"


"Is it wet, have I made you wet?"

I ran my finger along my lips, establishing that I was indeed very wet. At the same time, I sent lovely sensations through my entire body.

"I'm soaked Matt, you've made me very, very wet indeed," I told him wishing I had put a towel down to sit on as I do when writing naked.

"And you've made me so hard you sexy bitch."

"Ooooo dirty talk so soon."

As we both thought about such things there was no typing for a few moments. I saw the light on the window saying "Matt is typing a message." I wondered what was coming for we'd reached a seminal moment. A key time, a critical instant. We'd reached the time when either, we drifted on or, we cybered. Either, we kept on talking about netfucking, or we netfucked.

"Jayne I want you so much."

My heart leaped for he'd taken the plunge, made the decision and had asked the question for that was followed by. " I want us to make love, can we darling, can we please?"

"Right at this moment in time Matt, there is nothing in the world I would like more than that."

"Really Jayney, really?"

"Yes Matt really, absolutely, totally," I said adding the words I thought I would never utter. "I want to make love to you here and now Matt, I want you to make me cum and I want to help you cum. So, fuck me Matt, please fuck me right now and make me cum with you."

As it happens the exchanges between us were not that clear or really successful. Both of us, so we told each other later, were so aroused that our focus was more on ourselves than on the screen or on the other. It was very difficult telling each other what we were doing and how we were feeling as, certainly for me, the sensation built up quickly and hugely. I was cumming almost as soon as we had 'formally' agreed to the electronic fuck.

I didn't do anything special, nothing different, nothing unique, just a straightforward masturbation using my hands on my breasts and tummy and my fingers on my nipples, clit and pussy.

That's really how it all started. That's how I found my feet on the net, well not my feet literally, but it is how I found out how to masturbate on there, how to make love on there and, yes, how to, in effect, fuck and be fucked on there. Matt started me off on this latest phase of my mid-life, sex crisis and mission to save my marriage and, I suppose, I have taken to it like a 'dog to water.'

We did it frequently for a few weeks. It was as if once we'd done it, we just couldn't get enough of each other, for a while; not unlike lovers in real life who lust for each other, but don't really go emotionally further than that. Like couples who want sex, but little more from each other.

As so often happens in a transitory world such as the net with a couple that have only sex in common, Matt and I didn't last. We made pretence that we weren't bored, that our lovemaking hadn't become predictable and that we still wanted each other badly. But it was all an act. We were like an office affair or a couple that meet, become very intense, have great sex and mistake that for there being something more in the relationship. For Christ's sake how can there be more with just a bloody screen and keyboard where one's only communication is typed words? So, we had each other less and less frequently until we stopped. Sure, a few times over the next few months when we 'bumped into each other' online. It wasn't awkward. We were both very grown up about it and chatted easily even jokingly hinting at doing something for old time's sake. We didn't though, but we did chat about our lives and lovers with him telling me that he and Fiona had parted. She'd caught him messing around on the net and had found his email password. She'd found many of the mails we'd exchanged and two to women that Matt had met in real life. End of story as far as she was concerned!

It was by no means the end of the story as far as my online affairs were concerned. If anything, after parting from my first real cyber lover, they became more complicated, active and frequent. I guess for a while I lost control. I can't count the number of men I virtually slept with or nearly did over the next few months. I went with older guys, younger ones, blacks, Indians, Arabs and other nationalities. It was daft and immoral, but most of the time it was harmless, enjoyable and sexually satisfying and stopped me giving into the sexual temptations offered to me at the tennis club and other places and thus, it helped me remain faithful to John.

Yes of course having sex with a computer is limited. Sure, being made to cum merely by words reduces the scope of the sex and yes it was nowhere near as fulfilling as face to face, mouth to mouth and body to body real sex. But I didn't want that. That was being unfaithful, cheating on John and committing adultery. Of course, I had opportunities to meet guys from the chat room as several lived not too far away and I was tempted but again I didn't want that. No, all I needed were men with a modicum of intelligence, reasonable writing skills, a sense of adventure and a desire to cum, who could help me avoid biting the bullet and finding a solution to my nigh on sexless marriage.

TBC soon!



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