33 comments/ 65911 views/ 15 favorites I Can't Say No to Him By: Deimos1 This is a story about a married woman who begins a cyber-affair with a man who is not her husband. I understand that some readers do not like this kind of story. If you are one of those readers, do yourself a favor and don't read this. If you do read it, you've been warned. My name is Josie and I'm a 34 year old wife and mother from a mid-sized town in Wisconsin. I work three days a week as an auditor at a local bank, which gives me a chance to have a career, pick my daughter up from kindergarten, and still have some time to myself. I'm about 5'4 and 120 pounds with mid-length light brown hair and hazel eyes. I'm proud that I've kept my figure nice by jogging and practicing yoga and I enjoy the inviting stares I still get from men when I am in public. I always have been a little embarrassed that my breasts are only a small B cup and I wish that I had a little bit more to show off. I sometimes wear padded or pushup bras to give my breasts a little extra volume and definition. My husband Steve and I have been married for 11 years and he is a good provider and family man. He dotes on our young daughter but, frankly, has never paid enough attention to me. Even in the first months of our marriage Steve had little interest in me physically and I had to almost beg him to have sex with me. I tried everything including sexy outfits and role play but nothing seemed to make him want me. Our sex life has only slowed down since our wedding night and now I am lucky to have sex with him once every two or three months. His sex drive seems to constantly decline while mine only increases as the months pass. As much as I physically need to have sex with Steve the real problem is how bad it emotionally hurts that he doesn't want me. I'm an attractive woman, I keep myself in good shape, I do everything I can to be attractive and yet he still does not notice me. Honestly, it's hurtful and makes me feel like I am less than a woman. How can my husband not want to have sex with me? What is wrong with me? I'm writing this so I can try to make sense of things that have happened to me over the last few months. I hope that if I can put them down in writing then I may be able to understand why I've done the things I have. Sometimes I feel like I don't even know who I am anymore and that I have become someone else completely. I always thought I knew myself well but now I wonder who I really am. It all started about four months ago. It was a weekday morning and I was home while my husband was at work and my daughter at school. I put the breakfast dishes in the dishwasher, picked up the house, vacuumed the floors, took a shower, and then in my fluffy bathrobe I settled down in front of the computer. I paid some bills and then went to my online account to use the chat rooms. I know I am probably the youngest and one of the last people in the world to use online chat rooms but I started doing it when I was a teenager and then stopped for a long time before reinvestigating online conversation about eight months ago when I tried it again out of boredom. That first day I found a chat room for people that wanted to talk about gardening and learned some good things about how to keep squirrels away from my tomatoes. The chatting was fun and I got to meet some likeminded people. I went back about once a week and got to know some of my fellow gardeners. Often I would get instant messages from men asking what I looked liked or if I wanted to go into a private room but I ignored them. Most of these men seemed predatory and only interested in me sexually, but generally everyone was harmless enough. On the day in question about four months ago, I went to both of my two favorite online gardening rooms but found no one there that had anything interesting to chat about. I started looked looking around other rooms and eventually saw a member created room entitled "Home Alone in My Bathrobe." Chuckling to myself I clicked on the room and went inside. Almost immediately I received five or six instant messages which read, "a/s/l" (age/ sex/ location). I quickly closed the messages and ignored any other attempts by these men to garner my attention. I wondered if such an uncreative and rather crass opening salvo generally produced results for these men because it only cemented my lack of interest in them. I found the chat room to be rather dull and left after a few moments and returned to paying bills. I minimized the browser and worked on my finances for the next ten or fifteen minutes. I then figured that I would go read a book and went to close all of my open programs. When I started to close the Internet browser I noticed an instant message that had popped up in my absence that read, "Must be a hard life sitting around in your bathrobe." Before I even realized that I was doing so, I typed in, "You seem to be in the chat rooms too. How productive can you be?" and sent the message. Quickly, the words "Touché, you have put me in my place" appeared and then a smiley icon joined it. "Just don't let it happen again. :)" I typed and sent, not knowing why I even bothered. "I'll keep better control of myself for now on. I'm Kyle, by the way," hastily came up at the bottom of the conversion box. "Hi Kyle. I'm Josie." "Hi Josie. I promise I won't make any pussycat jokes. So, are you really in a bathrobe?" "Thanks. Yep, just a bathrobe and cup of coffee this morning." "Nothing underneath the bathrobe?" he asked. In retrospect this was the point that I should have stopped talking to him. I like to think that normally I would have but it felt good that someone was interested in what I was wearing and how I looked. It had been so long since I had interacted with anyone that cared about my body that I enjoyed the attention. Also, I told myself that it was innocent enough, what could happen by talking to someone that can't see me and knows nothing about me. So, I might flirt a little. It was harmless and good for my ego. "I have on underwear too." "What kind of underwear?" "Black bikini cut underwear. No bra." I was surprised how much it excited me to type the words. My skin was suddenly flush and my body felt alive. My nipples were now stiff and rubbing against the soft fabric of my robe. I had just begun chatting with this stranger and already I was telling him such personal things. I couldn't believe that I liked talking to this man this much, but I didn't want to stop. "You get better and better all the time. :). You sound very sexy." "It's just a bathrobe and a pair of panties. Most women own the same." I typed not going to let him think that I appreciated the generic compliment that he undoubtedly gives to every woman he talks to online. The compliment did resonate with me though. While I knew he didn't know me, it did feel good that someone thought I was sexy and he was willing to face rejection to say so. He made me feel desirable even if I didn't want him to know it. "Touche, again. I stand admonished. I only wanted to compliment you and tell you how sexy you are." I flushed a little and was happy that he couldn't see me. He and I then quickly shared our basic details and I learned that he was a single, tall, brown haired, blue eyed, 32 year old man from Chicago who worked in banking. He complimented my appearance and told me that I sounded both lovely and exciting and my husband was a lucky man. "He doesn't seem to think so," I replied much too honestly. "He doesn't notice me." "He's not very bright then. You sound wonderful. Honestly, I wouldn't be able to stop from being all over you all the time." "That's very sweet." "There's nothing sweet about it. I can't pretend that I would be soft and nice to you. I would do nasty things with you." I read and reread the sentence three times and knew I should be angry, but instead with each reading I became more and more excited. The tiny light-colored hairs on my arms were standing straight and a wave of heat passed over me. My body felt alive. My nipples had stiffened even more beneath my robe and were now rubbing against the soft downy fabric. "Really? Why do you say that?," I answered, unsure how to respond. I knew that I should stop chatting with this man, but I didn't want to quit. "Obviously, you're not being taken care of properly. It's a sin that a sexy woman like you is being treated that way. You should be constantly shown how desirable and appealing you are. You should be pleasured and satisfied over and over again." "That would be nice. I wish it worked that way." "It should. You deserve it. And you body needs it too. Right now your body is getting excited at the very thought of it, I bet. How hard are your nipples?" I am a respectable wife and mother and I knew that he had definitely crossed the line and I should say so, but I wanted to tell him about my excitement. I wanted him to know that I felt sexy and alive in the moment. Some part of me that I had kept hidden from even myself needed him to know how excited I was and how good it felt. "They feel good," I answered. "That's not what I asked. How hard are they?" "Very hard," I replied, his impolite tone and question served only to make me more excited. "Take your robe off and tell me what your breasts look like." And I did. I took off my clothes for this man and presented my body to him. I logically knew he couldn't see me but in the moment it felt as if he was watching me. "They are too small, B cups. I know men like them bigger" "No, they are beautiful. They are exactly the right size. Perfect to cup, rub, lick, and suck. Tell me what they look like. Describe them." "They're small and I sometimes don't have to wear a bra," I added, hesitant about how to answer. "What do your nipples look like?" "Medium sized and brown." "Are they sensitive? Do you like them to be rubbed?" "Yes," my head was swimming. I don't remember the last time I was this excited. I craved the attention and loved telling this stranger about my body. I was sitting in my underwear looking at my breasts and describing them to this man. Was I really doing this? "Touch your breasts for me and tell me how it feels." And I did it. An hour before I would have sworn that I never would've let some man control me this way but I did it. I wanted it so badly. I wanted to touch my breasts for me but mostly I wanted to do it for him. I wanted to him to be attracted to me and to need me as much as I needed this. "Rub your nipples, Josie. How does that feel?" I ran my fingers over my nipples and stroked them softly. They were so sensitive and I shuddered a little as I rubbed. "It feels good, Kyle." "Touch them like I would, baby. Rub and stroke them and then pinch and pull them a little." I did as I was told and enjoyed the sensation that engulfed me. "Mmmm, that's good," I typed. Needing him to approve of what I was doing. "Yes, I love rubbing and pulling your nipples. Your breasts are beautiful and you're so sexy, Josie." I fingered my stiff nipples. Pulling and pinching them like he told to me to. I loved the intense mixture of pleasure and pain but I reveled in his interest in and appreciation of me. Pleasing him felt so good and the wrongness of the situation felt even better. Although I didn't want to admit it even to myself, it excited me to do something I shouldn't "I wish it were my hands and mouth on you, baby. I'd love to lick and suck your nipples. Kiss your lips. Nibble your ears and the back of your neck. Plant soft baby kisses down your stomach and lick your navel and your inner thighs. I'd like to touch and taste all of you." Imagining him doing these things only amplified my already nearly overwhelming excitement. It had been so long since a man made me feel this way and equally as long since someone had wanted me so much. As I continued to rub my left nipple, I felt like I no longer was in control of my actions. My body was acting on need and instinct and my mind was left to attempt to comprehend what was taking place. "How do you feel right not, Josie?" "So excited and alive," I typed, barely realizing that I had. It was true, I felt sweep away by a wave of want and desire. I needed this more than I had needed anything in recent memory. It felt so good that I could scarcely function normally. All that mattered was getting more of this high. "Slide your panties off and show me your pussy, Josie." I read the short direct sentence and was briefly upset. Did he think he could talk to me like that? That language and the vulgarity? We had been having some fun and I had maybe done a little too much but he couldn't treat me like a common whore. There had to be boundaries. While the forefront of my rational mind was agitated with Kyle, my body was responding differently. The things he said to me boosted my excitement and accelerated my desires. My body was electric. The offensive word and the filthy intent were novel to me. No one had ever spoken to me that way. I always had been a nice girl in high school, college, and the short time after graduation before I married. I am educated, cultured, well read, and well spoken. I'm a feminist and firm believer in respect and human equality. My body betrayed my higher ideals, though. It didn't care that I was a good, respectable, and enlightened woman. Some deep recesses of my being needed this more than I would have ever believed. I needed to do this, although I knew I shouldn't. So, I stood up from my home office chair and slid off my panties. I was surprised by how physically excited all of this made me. I knew my nipples were hard and my body was flush and tingling, but I was shocked to realize hot wet I had become. The chair's leather felt cold against my bare skin as I stared down at my discarded underwear on the hardwood floor. My panties symbolized what I was doing, the violation of my identity that I was not just allowing but reveling in. I began to form the understanding that part of me had been trapped for so long that I hadn't known it existed. It bolstered me and in the moment I was ready to fully know who I was. "Done," I sheepishly replied, knowing it would only embolden him. I didn't want to reward the vulgarity and hubris but I couldn't allow him to stop or leave. I needed so badly for him to keep making me feel this way. "Good girl. Tell me what you did." My whole being flushed with shame as I realized that he was going to make me tell him in detail the ways that he had and was going to violate me. He wasn't satisfied with having me perform the acts but need to humiliate me. "I took off my underpants," I typed and quick sent quickly, filling me with shame and arousal. "No, you took off your panties. Say it." "I took off my panties,' I robotically replied, not even considering what the difference was. "Then what did you do?" What did he want me to say? Momentarily confused I read his previously message and soon understood what he wanted. "I showed you my vulva." "No, you showed me your pussy, Josie. What did you show me?" Surely he didn't expect me to use that word. I would never use that word. It lacked class and decorum. Only low class women and sleazy men would say that word. The thought of typing it humiliated me. I had already taken off all of my clothes and touched myself for him. Wasn't that enough? Couldn't we just nicely play like this? Why did he have to be rude and improper? Why did he need to act boorish and offensively? I was already a married woman doing things that she should never do with another man. Why did he have to be mean? "I don't say that word." I replied, knowing that I needed to set limits on what we were doing. "Why not?," quickly flashed on the screen. "Because I don't talk that way. I'm not that kind of woman." "What kind of woman talks that way?" "You know." "Tell me." "Low class women." "Bad girls? Slutty women?" "Yes." "Women who flirt with men other than their husbands? Who touch themselves when strange men tell them to? Women who get naked and show men their bodies?" My face burned with angry and embarrassment. He was right, I had done all of those things and he was going out of his way to shame me for it. I had no defense, no justification, and all I could reply was a simple, "yes." "But you're not the kind of woman that says pussy?" "No, I don't want to say that." "I understand. But I also understand how excited I've made you. How much you want this. The problem is that I can't continue to make you feel like this if you set abstract boundaries. If you're not enjoying this then we should stop. But if you like me and what we are doing then you need to listen to me and do what I tell you to. You will soon thank me." My father always told me to never take a stand about something unless I was willing to walk away. I had offered Kyle a compromise power sharing solution and he had responded by telling that he wanted everything. He had called my bluff and was seemingly willing to walk away. He was betting that I needed this feeling more than I needed that part of my self worth. He was right. "I showed you my pussy," I typed, defeated. "Good girl, Josie. Spread your legs so I can see your pussy better." I knew he couldn't actually see me but the idea of me spreading my legs so that he could look at all of me excited me behind belief. I loved how much he desired me and appreciated my body. I also secretly cherished the way that he had taken control of me. Making me do the things that he wanted but also what I clandestinely needed. He seemed to know my needs and desires before I did and this excited me in ways that I couldn't comprehend. "I did, Kyle," I answered. Wanting him to look at me. "Your pussy is beautiful, Josie. So wet and needy. It's a shame that your husband doesn't take care of you better. A beautiful, sexy woman you like shouldn't be so unappreciated and left so horny all the time." "Yes," I replied as I slid my right hand down my body and started to rub myself. I rarely masturbated because I felt uncomfortable touching myself that way. As a young woman my mother had caught me playing with myself and had yelled at me for hours calling me a dirty slut and a filthy whore. Since then, the idea of masturbation was attached to so much shame that I rarely allowed myself to do it. Kyle had stirred up such strong needs in me though, that I couldn't stop my hand from rubbing. "Are you touching yourself for me, Josie?" "Yes, I can't help it." I don't know why I was apologizing to him. I so badly needed him to like me and want me. I desperately wanted to please him. "I know. You've been mistreated for so long. You've been forced to wall off important parts of yourself. You can't ignore who you are and what you need forever." I continued to touch my vulva, rubbing my outer and inner labia, the sensation of wetness on my fingers. I ground the palm of my hand into me, feeling the heat of my core. "It feels so good," was all I managed to type. "You should feel good. You deserve it. You're so sexy. Imagine my fingers touching you, stroking you, pushing inside of you, fucking you." I was in over my head. His words were a balm to my battered psyche and an elixir that warmed and intoxicated me. I would offer no more resistance. This was what I wanted. This was what I needed. I ran my fingers along my labia and gingerly touched my clitoris. My pleasure was overpowering. I pressed a finger into my center and slowly slid it in and out. "Imagine me. Sliding my hard cock into you, Josie. Taking you and making you mine. Filling your married pussy with my cock.' I read the words and fingered myself faster. His words overtaking me, as if he was actually doing these things to me. The veil between us had lifted and it felt as if he was having his way with me and I was acquiescing to his every desire. My body was his to use and all I wanted was for him to enjoy me. I Can't Say No to Him Ch. 02 This is a story about a married woman whose cyber-relationship with a man other than her husband intensifies. If you don't like stories about married women engaging in cyber-affairs then you probably shouldn't read this. If you do read it, you've been warned. * The days following my online experience with Kyle were psychologically trying and I wondered again and again why I had sexually and emotionally opened myself up to this stranger. It was so unlike me to act this way and part of me hated how needy and vulnerable I was that day. I tried to convince myself that it was online play acting that amounted to nothing. He'd neither seen nor touched me and I was sure that he had lied about everything he told me, so that he could get himself off while talking to me. It was a game that I had taken too much to heart and I shouldn't worry about it. I didn't believe any of these things, though. My short cyber chat with Kyle was one of the most intense sexual experiences of my life and it had stirred up something in me that I didn't know existed. After our tryst I felt guilty and ashamed but also sexually primed like rarely before. My body was awash in near primal sexuality and my mind was weighed with shame. This dualist conflict played havoc with my psyche and made me determined to fight my sexual desires and stay away from online chatting. I wanted to forget Kyle and the way he made me feel. I needed to resume my normal life and never open myself up to anyone sexually again, except my husband. I was a wife and mother and I promised myself that I would start acting like a decent woman and not a common trollop. This declaration lasted for four days. I'm embarrassed to say that I gave in so quickly but in retrospect I am surprised that I lasted so long. The intense guilt that I felt that first day subsided quicker than I thought it would and I soon pushed the residual shame away so that I barely noticed it. The day of and the day after my initial cyber meeting with Kyle I swore I would never think or do anything like that again. Two days after I began to rationalize my actions and tell myself that what I did was innocent and it wasn't really sexual just online play acting. Three days later, I began to think of how angry I was at my husband for ignoring me sexually. How a stranger made me feel sexier and more alive than my own husband. How unappreciated and unloved I felt. During all of this time my mind and body were even conspiring against me while I slept. My nights were filled with intensely erotic dreams in which I became both an enlightened temptress and a submissive and needy woman willing to sexually debase herself for pleasure. The dreams always featured a shadowy stranger whose face I never saw but whose very presence filled me with yearning. Time and time again the man in the dream would take control of my mind and body and would force me to do things that I seeming did not want to. Secretly, I wanted to perform all the lusty acts he commanded and more, though. My dream self seemingly maintained no limits and was willing to do anything to pleasure the dominant stranger and herself. In the most memorable of the dreams, the dark stranger makes me slowly strip for him while he watches and stares at my body, in much the same way that Kyle had done during our original meeting. Initially dressed in business attire, I have to painstakingly remove all of my clothing for his enjoyment. First my blouse and then my skirt slowly disappear, leaving me in bra, panties, stockings and heels for him to ogle. The dark man makes me dance suggestively as I peel off my brassiere and underpants and forces me to turn around and display my body while he quietly enjoys the view from the comfort of an oversized chair. The Freudian in me would interpret this as a sign that I need to explore the hidden sexual me underneath the professional woman veneer that I've constructed. My dreaming self was excited beyond belief and willing to do whatever the dark stranger required. In the dream, after the murky man forces me to exhibit my body for him, he wordlessly carries me to the bed and forcefully takes me sexually. He never speaks to me and seemingly does not care about my feelings, but rather powerfully and coarsely uses my body. His manhood aggressively invades and exploits me for his pleasure. He roughly handles me, pulling my hair, biting my flesh, scratching my skin, and forcing his penis deeper and deeper into me. The more demanding he becomes the more I enjoy it knowing that this stranger knows exactly what I need even when I do not. I awoke from that dream, and most of the others, sexually excited and needy. My mind and body obviously had not been getting something they needed for a long time and the small taste of pleasure from a few days before had opened a door that could not easily be shut. How had I locked this part of me away for so long and how would I be able to control it now that it wanted so badly to be free? So, on the fourth day after meeting Kyle, I went back to the chat rooms. I told myself that I wasn't looking for Kyle, but rather I was only hoping to talk to someone about gardening. I was lying to myself and I knew it. Sometimes personal fictions are the only means we have that allow us to do what we desire while retaining our sense of self and sanity. I signed on to the online provider and went through the motions of finding a gardening chat room. After looking for about three minutes, an instant message popped up in the corner of the screen. "You left quickly last time. I've been looking for you since then." It was from Kyle and suddenly I couldn't breathe. As clichéd as it sounds, my heart abruptly started racing and my skin became flush. I was so excited to see him. Memories of how I felt a few days before flooded over me and I was instantaneously aroused and stimulated. Amazingly, chatting with this stranger online triggered feelings and emotions inside of me that had long remained dormant. Logically I knew that this shouldn't be the case. I loved my husband and I knew nothing about this man, but his one message had sent me into a state joy and arousal that a week ago I would have thought impossible. I needed to get myself under control, though. I needed to act sanely and normally and not like a dog in heat. I was not going to throw myself at this man and I was not going to let him think that I was easy or slutty. "It got a little too intense for me last time and I decided to leave. I hope I didn't seem rude," I replied after thinking about several options and rereading the final edit three or four times. "No, I understand. It's easy to get lost in the moment and then feel uncomfortable. I hope you came at least." "Thanks for understanding," I typed, not willing to let him know how good he had made me feel and how I could still feel the psychic aftershocks of my orgasm from almost a week ago. "How could I not understand? You're sweet, enticing, and very sexy. I know you've been mistreated and not appreciated and I don't ever want to make you feel bad about yourself. I know last time you came and when the totality of it hit you, you didn't know how to react, so you ran. You don't have to explain it or apologize." I stared at the screen in disbelief. How did he know all of this? How had he guessed all of these things about me? It felt as if he knew me, as if he understood me, as if he wanted to accept me for who I was, flaws and all. I read the message again and again and could not find the words to reply. Finally, he typed: "I like you for you. Never apologize or ever feel bad about who you are. I only want you." His words were like manna sent to nourish my battered spirit. I knew that he was probably well practiced in online seduction and undoubtedly knew just what to say to vulnerable women, but I didn't care. If him appreciating me this way was an act, then I would play along and if it was real then I would reap the benefits. Kyle made me feel desirable, sexy, and needed. I hadn't realized until I met him how much I longed to be treated like this. I didn't know it at the time, but in retrospect, this was when I unconsciously but fully began to accept my new reality. I would have denied it at the time but Kyle had completely swept me away and I was starting to follow him wherever he led me. In the moment I thought I was just having a good time but in hindsight it was the beginning of an exciting and dangerous new part of my life. "Thank you, you're too kind," I managed to type, kicking myself for the genericness of the sentence. "I'm not kind at all. I just see how striking and desirable you are and I'm not afraid to tell you." I read his compliment a few times and before I could reply he had again taken control of the conversation and was leading it, and me, in a new direction. "I hope even though it got a little intense for you last time that it was worth it," Kyle commented heavy handedly. He was moving the conversation back towards sex, pleasure, and how good it had been last time. I knew what he was doing and silently gave my consent. Memories of our encounter devoured me and I was momentarily enveloped in the remembered feelings and sensations. My senses were again filled with remembrances of that day. While only a few moments before Kyle had made me feel sexy and desired, now my body started to feel wanton and lusty. Residual emotions combined with repressed longing began to overtake me. I so badly wanted to feel more of everything. I had fought with myself for several days in an attempt to disregard how Kyle had made me feel. I had tried to deny myself the right to feel and act upon my longings and passions, but my needs and desires were too strong to reject. For years I had entrapped and confined my sexuality but now the loosed beast would prove much harder to cage. "I enjoyed it more than I can say," I finally typed, unsure how to express the things I felt and a little embarrassed to share them with him. "I wish you would say. I'd like to know :)," he pressed, not going to let me off the hook easily. So, I decided to be honest. To let him see a little of me as I was, vulnerable, uncertain, and overly stimulated. "I'd never done anything like that before," I revealed. "It was new to me, very exciting but also very scary. I've never cheated on my husband and I've never done anything that intense with a stranger." "Well, I don't think I'm a stranger anymore. I made you cum last time we talked, that at least makes us friends." "I never told you I came," I protested in order to retain the appearance of at least a modicum of control. I was in for the ride but he was going to have to work for it at least a little. "You didn't have to tell me. I know you did and I know that you can't stop thinking about it." How did he know this about me? I assumed that he was making educated guesses based on what I had told him, how I had acted, and other women he had met online, but it still felt like he knew me. It felt like he understood secret things about me and was willing to share the burden of them. I was probably projecting my desires onto him but I couldn't help but feel like I wanted to share more of me with him. "Yes, I came last time and I've thought about it a lot lately. I'm married and I shouldn't have done what I did and now I am embarrassed by it." I told him part of the truth, not wanting him to know how much I desired this and how excited the conversation was making me. "I know you're dealing with a lot of emotions and are being pulled many different ways but I also know that you have a lot of needs and desires that aren't being fulfilled and this has dredged a lot of that up." "This isn't how I act and it's wrong to be thinking about this so much. I need to be more in control of myself." "Part of you thinks it's wrong but even more of you thinks that it feels so good and so right. Your body and mind are telling you something, you just have to listen." He continued before I had a chance to respond. "How does your body feel right now?" I typed without thinking, "Excited and alive." "Then why would you deny yourself that truth? Your body knows what it needs. It knows what you're lacking and what it wants." He pressed on. "How hard are your nipples right now?" "Very," I quickly replied running my right hand down my clothed breasts to check. Although I had known I was excited, I hadn't comprehended the full extent until now. "How wet is your pussy?" I cringe a little at the use of the word but also was excited by his willingness to employ the verbiage. I liked how aggressive he had become and his questions about my excitement only served to excite me more. "Very wet," I answered not checking but knowing that I must be soaked. Waves of desire were rapidly flowing through my body and I was beginning to lose myself in the moment. My skin tingled and crackled with lightening-like sensation and I felt like the personification of a summer Midwestern thunderstorm. All of this was happening so fast and I was laboring to remain coherent and clear headed. I had only signed on a few moments before and already I felt him taking control of me. I wanted and needed this but I also needed to keep my dignity and sense of self. I knew I would give myself to Kyle again but it needed to be a conscious cognitive choice and not an animalistic action. In retrospect this line of reasoning seems pedantic and naïve but at the time it appeared to be of paramount importance. "Then it's obvious what you want. Why would you fight it? You've denied yourself for too long." "I know but I want to be sure that I know what I'm doing and that I'm not losing myself in the process," I typed, attempting one feeble last stand. I needed to fight him at least a little to prove to him and me that I wasn't an easy woman. "Losing yourself is the point. If you were happy with this part of your life you wouldn't be here," he countered and before I could reply he added, "now take off your shirt and bra and show me your breasts." I stared in disbelief at the words for several moments. My heart was racing and I could feel the strong beats vibrating through my skin. I wiped my palms on my pants and considered his message. He was attempting to end the argument by ordering me to remove my clothing. He was observing none of the protocols or mores of polite society. He was completely dismissive of my opinion and my judgment and did not respect my agency whatsoever. If I did what he wanted then I would lose all power and standing in this conversation. If I protested, he could leave. It was clear what I needed to do. I removed my shirt and blouse. "Done," I meekly typed, slightly angry with myself for doing it but more excited than ever. The cool air conditioned air blew against my breasts and my already erect nipples ached for relief. "Good girl. Your breasts are beautiful. Don't let anyone tell you that they are too small, they are perfect." My skin grew hot with pride from his complement and I imagined his eye peering at and into me. "Thank you I'm glad you like them," I honestly offered. "Take off the rest of your clothes and be naked for me," he ordered. I recognized this as the same way that he had started last time and I assumed that it was part of his ritual. He was literally and figuratively stripping me. Taking away the things that covered me and leaving me bare and open for him. He was subjugating me to his will and removing the barriers between us. I complied and exposed myself to him. "I'm naked," I answered, feeling so vulnerable that I didn't know what to say. I had given myself to him and now had to deal with the consequences. This is what I wanted but getting what you want isn't always satisfying while you're on the journey. It can be frightening as you're in the midst of a fantasy and the road to fulfillment is marked with insecurities and anxieties. As I sat in front of the computer completely exposed, I felt the weight of what I was doing fall on me. I was excited and terrified. I was energized and ashamed. I was open and withdrawn. "Good girl. Sit back in your chair and spread your legs for me, so that I can see you body." I did as I was told. Rubbing my right hand down my thighs and vulva as I did. My body was so excited and my wetness was intense. I slowly and gently stroked myself, unable to stop. Feeling so good and so sexy. "Are you touching yourself, Josie? How do you feel?" How does he know what I'm doing? How can he understand what I want even before I do? I forced myself to stop touching and typed, "I was rubbing a little. It feels really good." "I'm glad it makes you feel good, Josie. Rub yourself for me. Imagine that my hand is touching you and touch yourself just like I would." My fingers slid up and down my vulva coating themselves in my wetness. My body was on fire. All of these needs and desires had built up over the years and had intensified geometrically over the past four days. I had no excuse for acting like this. He barely said hello to me today and I was already naked for him with my legs splayed wide. I felt dirty, which both embarrassed and excited me. I would feel much more guilt later but in the moment I was beyond repentance. I needed to be bad. I needed to be sexual. I needed Kyle to take me and make me his. "Don't type anything," his words appeared on the screen. "Keep touching yourself and do what I tell you to." My fingers continued to glide up and down my folds as I periodically stopped and ground the palm of my hand against my wetness. I was becoming so excited that I knew with little effort I could orgasm soon. I wanted to wait, though. I wanted Kyle to tell me what to do and let his words give me pleasure. I wanted to orgasm for him. "Slide your hand up and down your pussy, Josie. Rub your fingers in your wetness and imagine that I'm touching you." I did as I was told. "Rub your finger against your clit and feel how good your body feels." "Imagine my fingers stroking you. Pleasuring you. Feeling how sexy you are. "Slide your middle finger into your pussy, Josie. Push it inside you the way that I want to thrust my cock into you." "Use your finger to fuck your pussy for me, Josie. I want you so badly. You're so sexy. You're making my cock so hard for you." I wish I could say that Kyle's coarse words offended me and I made him address me properly. That would be a lie. I was in a sexual frenzy and his dirty words and commands only heightened my exhilaration. I loved that he wanted to be as nasty as I felt and that he was willing to forgo all hints of manners and civility. I had relinquished control to him and he would so whatever he wanted. His roughness and authority made my already oversexed body tremble and quickly a massive orgasm ravished me. My body was at the mercy of the intense pleasure as waves of delight and release tossed me to and fro. The bliss overwhelmed me and I felt whole in a way that I had been searching for my entire life. This was the high that addicts chase. This was the epiphany of which religious men preach. This was a rapture of the mind and the body, which cleansed the soul and unburdened the psyche. And then it was gone and I was satisfied and empty. If I had moments before been overflowing with sexual need and desire, then now I was a drained vessel trying to reorient myself to my new state of being. I felt some of the same guilt and shame that I had the last time but not to the same degree and now I also felt a closeness with Kyle that wasn't there before, making me grateful for the orgasm that he had given me. "That was amazing," I typed, ignoring the things he had written while I was orgasming and letting him know that I had finished. I Can't Say No to Him Ch. 02 I'm glad that you came," he wrote. "How do you feel?" "So good," I answered leaving out the odd residual feelings of shame that I still felt. "You're very sexy. I like knowing that you feel good. I like giving you pleasure." "You do it well. I felt so hot and sexy. You made me feel so excited," I opened up to him. Feeling close to him and wanting him to feel the same way towards me. I liked his simple honest sentences and his apparent lack of subtext and subterfuge. I wanted clipped candor and emotional sincerity. "Good. You made me so excited and my cock is so hard for you. I can barely type sometimes because I want to touch myself so much. Reading those words made me feel so proud and delighted me as much as if I had accomplished one of my longstanding goals in life. In my post-orgasm state, Kyle made me feel so desirable and needed. He made me feel like the me I wanted to be. "Josie, unzip my pants and take my cock out." Under normal circumstances I would never let a man, especially a stranger, speak to me that way. Something in me had awakened though, and I wanted this. I didn't need to justify it, I didn't need to explain it, I didn't need to defend it; I just needed for it to happen. I wanted to both pleasure and satisfy Kyle the way that he had me. I wanted to satiate him from his needs and make him think of me when an orgasm overcame him. "I slide my hand against the bulge in your pants and rub my palm on your hardness through the cloth. I slowly, teasingly unsnap and unzip you and push my hand into your underwear. I free your penis from its fabric cage and admire its strength and virility." I looked at the sentences I typed and noticed that I seemed to be channeling old Harlequin romance novels. My prose was overly purple but I hoped I excited Kyle as much as he had me. "That feels good, Josie; keep going. Stroke my cock for me. And it's a cock not a penis." "I slowly run my small, soft hand over your long, smooth cock and feel how erect you are. I take you into my hand and love how strong and powerful you feel. I stroke your cock faster and harder, gripping the head of your cock as I do." I was on a roll and loved how sexy it made me feel to take control of him this way. I wanted to make him orgasm. "You're so sexy, Josie. Do you want my cock in your mouth or your pussy?" At that moment I would have done anything Kyle told me to but I wasn't prepared for a choice. Had he told me to perform oral sex on him I would have willingly complied. Had he ordered me to have sex with him I would have done so with vigor. Instead he was controlling me by making me choose. He was forcing me oxymoronically to take an active role in my submission and making me invest in our debauchery even more. "In my pussy, Kyle." "Tell me what you want there, Josie." "I want your cock in my pussy, Kyle." The words carried gravitas and weight like few others I had typed before. I didn't feel like myself as I wrote the sentence and simultaneously I felt like myself more than I had in years. It was as if Kyle's very presence had its own gravitational pull and I was caught in his wake. I had never used the word "cock" before and had only used "pussy" when Kyle insisted but now I employed them both willingly because I knew it excited him and because it excited me. "Tell me what I do, Josie." I knew now was the time for me to take control and leave Kyle free to enjoy himself. I wanted my words to excite him and vowed to create a dalliance that made him feel as good as I did. My body was again intensely excited by the situation and I was enthralled with my newfound circumstances. "You lay me on my bed naked and look at me for a moment before you slide your strong, rough hands between my legs and spread my thighs wide." "I shudder with anticipation and you kiss down my neck and breasts and start to stroke my womanhood, which is so wet for you." "I feel you push against me and I look down to see your large bulbous cockhead penetrating me. Your cock slides into me inch by inch filling me fuller and fuller of you. My pussy so full of your cock." The words sprang from me. I had never said these things and I don't think I had ever thought about them in this way before. I needed him to want me. I needed him to orgasm and I would give into any desires for it to happen. I felt dirty and bad and I liked it. "Your cock pushes all the way into me and you rest for a moment as I adjust to you deep inside of me." "Tell me to fuck you, Josie," Kyle's words popped up quickly and startled me. "Fuck me, Kyle. Push your big cock in and out of me and fuck me hard and deep." Who was I? Who was this woman saying these things? It was almost an out of body experience for me as I told Kyle to do nasty, terrible things to me. I felt both powerless and powerful as Kyle had his way with me and I egged him on. "Fuck me, Kyle. Let me feel how good your cock feels in me. Stroke your cock, Kyle and think of being inside me." "That was so good, Josie. You're so sexy," Kyle interjected, causing me to stop my narration. "Did you have an orgasm?" I asked, wanting to be certain that I had succeeded in giving him pleasure. 'I came so hard for you, Josie. You're very sensual and erotic." I blushed, although I was sitting naked in front of my computer hundreds of miles from my online partner. I was so proud of myself and so happy that Kyle desired me. I felt like a schoolgirl with a crush and at the moment all I needed was Kyle's approval and validation. Kyle and I quickly said our goodbyes for the day but I knew that I would have to see him again soon. What I didn't know was to where this was going to lead. I knew that I had turned a corner and had done things that day of which I hadn't thought I was capable. I had said things and mentally committed acts that were so out of character for me that it seemed like another person. I had no excuses but I knew that I would be back for more. If I then had known how far it would go I probably would have made myself stop that day. I would have forced myself to walk away. Instead, that day was only the beginning of a long list of acts that Kyle made me perform that I swore I would never do. I was becoming someone completely new, even though I didn't know it yet myself. Those are other stories for other times, though. Please let me know if you want me to tell them. * Thank you to everyone that provided feedback and ratings for the first Josie story. If you would like me to write a third part, please let me know. Your comments and ratings are always appreciated and I'd love to hear from you. I Can't Say No to Him "I fuck you hard and deep, Josie. Doing what your husband can't. Making you submit to my cock and enjoying how it feels inside you." "Your pussy all mine. Ready for all of the nasty things I will do to you and you will do for me. My sexy bad girl." A combination of my excitement, the physical stimulation, and his words sent me over the edge and an orgasm tore through me. I had never come so hard in my life, I felt as if my soul had ripped open and all of my pleasure and pain were loosed in one orgasmic instant. My body shook and I began to cry, unable to process what had happened. As I came down from my orgasmic high and guilt flooded over me, I quickly turned off the computer, not bothering to say goodbye to Kyle. How could I have done these things? How could I have felt that way? What was I thinking? As the endorphins went away and I felt normal once more, I told myself that I would never speak to Kyle or do anything like this again. I wasn't able to keep that promise though. As hard as I tried to stop this was only the beginning. That's another story, though. Let me know if you want to read it. Thank you for taking the time to read this story. I'd appreciate any feedback or comments that you have. Also, let me know if you would like to read more installments about Josie.