I have a confession to make. The last story I wrote about beachside camping was not 100% true. All the characters were real, the camping was real; the friends were real. Everything happened exactly the way I described. Except for the sex. That was total fantasy on my part. My feelings for Hank were real. He really did write that story for me. I really did tell him I was attracted to him. Only, I told him I was attracted to him about a week after the trip. Not a month before it. The way I told him was true. His response was also true.
After I finally told Hank that I was attracted to him, we started talking a lot through messaging on facebook. Mostly, we both talked about how horny we are all the time. Oh, did I mention that Hank lives about 6 hours away from me? The likelihood of ever getting together is pretty slim. But I’m not looking for a boyfriend or a husband. I’m very happy being friends. Besides, I’m still married. I’ve been separated about 6 months now, but I’m still married. My husband and I continued having sex for a while(you can read about it in my story, Saturday Afternoon). However, I put a stop to that sex about 4 months ago. It wasn’t right for me. My husband definitely knows how to satisfy me, but it felt wrong to continue having sex with him. It was like I was leading him on or something. I have no intentions of getting back together and it’s not fair to take advantage like that no matter how horny I am.
I decided to try my hand at writing a story. I had been thinking about writing for years. So I wrote a true account of an afternoon I spent with my husband. I thought it would be easier to write about something that actually happened, than it would be to make something up. When I finished the story, I told Hank about it. He said to send it to him. At first I beat around the bush a little. I wanted him to read my story, but I felt like I was forcing it on him. I didn’t want him to be stuck reading it if he didn’t want to and I wanted to make sure he wasn’t just being nice. We went back and forth a few times and I finally sent it to him.
I was on pins and needles for the next few hours waiting to hear back from him. He wrote me back and said he liked it and that I should add in more about the characters. I was glad he liked it, but still thought I had given him more than he bargained for. I couldn’t imagine him wanting to know those details about my sex life. We had already established a while back that he wasn’t attracted to me and wanted to be friends. We chatted on facebook later and I told him my concerns about giving him too many details. He responded by sending me a video of himself masturbating! OMG! I loved it. I couldn’t believe he sent that to me. It was very short and broken up into 3 parts because he recorded it with his phone several years ago and could only do 30 seconds at a time. But it included the cum shot and everything!
At this point, I knew for sure he was just as open and willing to talk about sex as I was. We started sharing more and more personal stuff. I also started working on another story. A fantasy I had been having about him for months. Beachside Camping is what I titled it and it details what I wish had happened on a camping trip we took a few weeks before with a bunch of old friends. I told Hank I was working on this story starring him and he encouraged me to continue. I sent him a rough draft that had very little background, but all of the sex. I told him to picture himself having sex with someone besides me; someone he was actually attracted to. He wrote me back and said he liked it. He said it made him stiff and he had never seen me naked before so couldn’t picture my body, but it was my face he was fucking. He actually wrote those words, “it was your face I was fucking.”
I know it is my job to describe, but I don’t think I can begin to explain the huge grin on my face when I read that. It made me feel so good. Maybe I’m a little on the weird side, but I very much liked the thought that my words made him “stiff” and that he was picturing the sex. I know the whole point of a story is to make the reader feel like they are there and describe it in enough detail for them to imagine. I just never thought I would be able to do it very well. I was really happy that Hank liked my story. I went back and added in the background and submitted the story for approval. I love that feeling when you first find out it is accepted and that people are reading it. I love all the feedback; it makes me feel good.
Hank and I kept messaging each other and talking about all kinds of stuff, but mostly sex. In one of my very long winded messages I told him that I didn’t want to scare him. I just want to be friends. I’m not looking for a relationship or anything beyond friendship, but that I can’t deny still wanting him. He didn’t respond, but he doesn’t usually respond right away. I write these long messages on my lunch break and he is usually working when I send them. Later that night I read back over it and wasn’t happy with it. I realized I had left something out.
While telling Hank I didn’t want to scare him, I made it sound like I didn’t need him. So I wrote him another message. I wrote that I want to make it clear that I do taksim üniversiteli escort want to have sex with him for real. I wrote that I’m not looking for a relationship. Besides, we already have a relationship as friends. We’ve known each other our whole lives and I feel comfortable with him. I told him that I love him and I want him to be my first. I haven’t ever had sex with anyone but my husband. I was young when I met him and I’ve been married for 20 years. I don’t really want sex for the first time with someone new to be that special. But I don’t think I can help remembering it for a very long time. I don’t want it to end up being with the first guy I happen to date. I don’t want it to be with one of the other guys I know who have been hinting around the “friends with benefits” thing. One of them I’m attracted to, but I work with him so he’s off limits. The other one, I hardly know and what I do know of him, I don’t much like. I’d really like it to be Hank. I’m wildly attracted to him and I trust him. Plus he’s into a little BDSM and I find the thought of that exciting. I’d really like him to dominate me. The idea of being bound and submitting to him totally turns me on. I don’t think I’d trust anyone else to do that for me. I rambled on for a while. It was late. I was tired. I thought about not sending it, but I did.
Then I went directly to bed and didn’t wait for a response. Although, I did wake up a couple of hours later and checked for a response. He had written me back. He said he loves me too and that he’s enjoyed our rekindled friendship. He’s not going to say no to sex, but he’s scared to hurt me. He wants to remain friends. He admitted that I did get those thoughts into his head, however he hopes we remain friends for a long time. It was pretty much the response I was expecting. It was 4 in the morning and I was reading his email on my phone. It both comforted and disappointed me at the same time. I turned off my phone and went right back to sleep. The next morning, I messaged him again. I told him that I knew he would say that about hurting me. I also told him I would let him let me down easy. But that I intended to keep writing the stories and making him the star.
A few days after that I went into a downswing. I started feeling lonely. I had never felt lonely before. I was married 20 years and had only been separated for 3 months when I felt those first pangs of loneliness. It makes you feel empty inside. I didn’t want to be around people. I felt ugly. I felt fat. I am fat; but not as fat as I felt. Actually, I used to weigh over a hundred pounds more than I do now. I’ve been losing weight for a year and a half now and am really starting to look much, much better. I’ve gone from a 4X to somewhere between large and 1X. I’m still going; still losing. It is a battle every day and I am winning. I should feel good. But the loneliness is a vacuum that sucks out all your energy. It makes you feel incomplete, unworthy, undeserving. It makes you desperate for contact with the opposite sex. Any contact at all; chat on the computer, texting, phone calls. I understand now why people have one night stands. You feel this need for closeness no matter how false it might be. I’m sure you still feel empty again afterwards. I’m positive of it.
My plunge into loneliness lasted for over a week. It was awful. I couldn’t even write a story. But I had no problem messaging Hank. I sent him stuff almost every day, sometimes multiple times. I just needed to talk to a guy. Any guy. I tried talking to my sister and another girl friend. But it is not the same. I didn’t tell Hank I was lonely. I don’t know if he picked up on that or not. He did tell me I talk a lot, though; which makes me smile. I try to express myself in writing, but sometimes that is not enough.
My spirits picked up a little when I found out my work needed me to go to our office in Georgia a few times during the next month. The schedule was a bitch, though. I had to fly out early Tuesday morning and fly back on Thursday evening for 4 weeks. The first week I got up there on Tuesday and had planned to see my friend Brenda that night and then see Hank on Wednesday. Brenda lives about an hour from where I was working and Hank about 2 hours, but he was going to meet me in the middle. My flight was at 6:15am and I worked until 5 doing work that was much more physical than I am used to. My normal job is sitting at a desk doing office type stuff. In Georgia, they needed me to help out in the warehouse and it was exhausting. By the time I left at 5, all I wanted to do was take a shower and go to bed. I called Brenda and told her I’d be over on Wednesday. This meant that I wouldn’t see Hank this time. But I figured I had 3 more chances so I wasn’t worried about it. I visited with Brenda for several hours on Wednesday night and really enjoyed myself. I hadn’t seen her in 6 months and it was nice catching up. Especially since I had left my husband in the interim. She had lots of questions and we talked everything out.
I came back home on Thursday night. Actually not quite home. Ever since I left Doug, I had not been living at home. When it first happened, he didn’t have any tophane escort place to go. His dad lives in the same town, but in an apartment and there was no room for him. So I offered to move in with my parents in my old bedroom until my father in law’s lease was up, and they could move into a larger apartment. I thought it would be for 3 months, but it was almost 4. Anyway, I got back home to my parent’s house Thursday night and went to work Friday. I started to feel down again and stayed down the whole weekend. But when Monday rolled around again and I thought about my upcoming trip and getting to see Hank this time, I started to feel better. My plans for the upcoming trip were to see Brenda on Tuesday, no matter how tired I was, and then to meet Hank halfway between the 2 cities we were in and have dinner and talk. Dinner and talk only. After all, we are just friends. All the sex talk we’ve been sharing is just that; talk. I knew he wasn’t attracted to me in that way. It didn’t matter if my story made him horny. Things are different in real life.
I left on Tuesday morning again, caught my flight, and worked in the warehouse. I made plans with Brenda for that evening and texted Hank late in the afternoon to set up for Wednesday. He texted me back to say he couldn’t make it because he ended up with a sales call at 6:30. There would be no way to meet up that night. I was devastated. That’s not an exaggeration. There was no reason for me to take it that hard, but I did. I plummeted instantly into a depression. I still had to work for another half hour and that was agony. I almost called Brenda to cancel for the evening. When I got in the car I almost drove straight to the hotel. But I sucked it up and drove to Brenda’s instead. I figured if I wanted to be alone, then the best thing for me, would be to be with friends. The drive to Brenda’s was an hour long. It was a fight the whole time not to turn around. I also had to fight not to call Hank. I wanted to tell him how disappointed I was, but I didn’t. I didn’t want to make him feel bad about something he had no control over.
When I got to Brenda’s, I had a nice visit again. We ate and talked for a couple of hours. I felt fine while I was there with her. But after I left I started feeling bad again. I had an hour drive ahead of me, so I called my sister. We talked a little. I told her that Hank had to work late and we wouldn’t be able to meet up. I also told her how disappointed I was about it. I really tried to talk to her about it, but she kept leading the conversation in another direction. I don’t know why I even bothered to talk to her. She was too focused on Farmville to listen to anything I had to say. So I let her talk to me about the trivial bullshit that she was worried about; a bunch of meaningless nothing. I felt horrible and went back alone to my hotel. I ate a bunch of junk food out of the vending machine and tried my best to sabotage my diet.
The next day I went to work as usual. I sent Hank a text that afternoon wishing him luck at his sales call. After work, I went back to the hotel and spent an hour on the treadmill. It was exhausting, but it was good for me. I tried not to think about where I’d rather be. I ate dinner and a small snack later. I felt really lonely, but I was able to resist sabotaging my diet again. I went to work the next day again and flew home that evening. Home at my mom’s that is. But things were looking up because my husband was supposed to move out on Sunday. I tried not to get my hopes up too much in case something went wrong and I couldn’t move back yet. But everything went fine and I was in my own house Sunday night.
I had no bed. My kids were still helping their father move into the apartment. But it was good to be home. I didn’t have to travel that week, so I spent it getting acclimated back to my own house again. I got into a routine with my girls; working, exercise, cooking dinner, cleaning, watching TV; sitting on the couch next to each other talking on facebook with our laptops. All of this kept me too busy to get lonely. I talked with Hank a bunch mostly through messages, but also on the phone a little. In one of the messages he ended up telling me about this crazy girl he had sex with. I was a little ticked off about it. Not jealous or anything like that. I wanted details. He knows I love talking about sex and he has sex and doesn’t tell me about it? Damn. I felt slighted. But he promised to tell me about it the following week when we were going to meet up for dinner. I had to go back up there again and we planned to meet Wednesday night.
When I got up there this time I didn’t go to my friend Brenda’s house again. I went ahead and stayed in on Tuesday. But I probably shouldn’t have. I had started to get those lonely feelings again. I told Hank in a text and he told me to go out. To talk to the desk clerk and find out where a bar and grill was. I said I didn’t want to go out alone, so Hank told me to watch pay per view. I told him I hadn’t brought any toys with me because I didn’t want THAT airport scene, but thanks for the recommendation. I ended up going downstairs and I did talk to the desk clerk. I went out to look for something to eat. I did topkapı escort a little shopping and then ended up at the grocery store. I went back to the hotel and made the frozen pizza in the microwave. I texted Hank again and told him I had pizza and a movie and I was going to sit on the semen couch in the room and eat pizza and watch TV. I got him to laugh and I guess that’s what I was looking for because I was starting to feel better.
When I went to work the next morning I was excited at the prospect of seeing Hank that night. We texted each other and talked about when we were leaving and where to meet up. I got off work at 5 and dashed back to the hotel to jump in the shower. I was showered, dressed and out the door at 5:30 right on schedule. I’m a low maintenance type of girl—no makeup or jewelry and I only ever towel dry my hair. Hank had started a few minutes late because one of his daughters didn’t want to go to Grandma’s for a couple of hours. He got that settled and was on the road as well. We didn’t have an exact destination, so I got off the highway when he said there would be nothing else for 20 miles. There was an outlet mall nearby and I shopped while I waited for him. When he got there we went to this little Mexican restaurant. Talking was easy. He opened with the story of sex with the crazy chick. I call her flat tire chick. She’s the same girl he had told me a month earlier about going to change her flat tire at 11 at night. I couldn’t understand why she couldn’t change her own tire at the time. Now I know that it wasn’t just about the tire. She wanted him.
Hank said that she was a friend of someone else he knows. She’s married but her friend gave her Hank’s phone number and she started calling and sending him texts. The texts quickly turned dirty. He never did tell me what she wrote that got him so turned on, but one night things really heated up. They talked and she asked him what if he sees her and he’s not attracted to her; he admitted that it really didn’t matter. He was at the point of no return. So they met up and had sex. I still didn’t get any details, but we were sitting in the middle of a restaurant, so I didn’t ask. I guess it was good. But then one day she turned up at his house in the morning with her son and expected to spend the day with Hank. He said it was uncomfortable and weird, and she was drinking, but he didn’t know how to stop it. She’s done it a few times and he calls her crazy.
Our conversation moved on to our kids and other interests. Talking to each other was easy; at least it was for me. Our waitress checked on us a hundred times. It was freezing in there and my nipples were hard the entire time. But I’m not sure it was only because of the temperature. I was definitely enjoying being with Hank. Even though all we were doing was talking over dinner. It was nice. After dinner, we went out to the parking lot, hugged goodbye and left. I know you as a reader are expecting sex here. I wanted that, too. But it didn’t happen. I was not disappointed, though. I really enjoyed our talk and the company.
I didn’t drive straight back. There was a store at the outlet that I wanted to go to. It was Lane Bryant, a store for large women and we didn’t have one at the mall back home anymore. I went in there and started looking around. I tried on several things and ended up buying 2 shirts. It was kind of exciting. Before I started losing weight, I used to wear the largest size in the store. Now the smallest size they sell is almost too big for me! I’m still what you would consider a BBW, but I seem to have retained the curves in the right places. I called Hank and told him about it. I knew he was still driving home. He congratulated me and we chatted some more about dating and stuff. Then hung up when Hank pulled in the driveway to pick up his daughter.
I continued the drive back to my hotel. I felt pretty good. It was my last night, so I packed the little bit of stuff I brought and got ready to leave the next day. When I went to bed that night, thoughts of Hank stayed in my head. I masturbated to fall asleep. Nothing elaborate, I hadn’t brought any toys. But I did imagine that it was Hank’s hand instead of my own. After I came, I fell asleep. But I woke up around 3 feeling like the bed was missing something. It was too big and it was missing Hank. I guess that’s what I get for thinking of him right before sleeping.
The next day I worked and flew back home again. I sent Hank a message telling him about masturbating and missing him the night before. We never talked about it, but I’m sure he got it. We didn’t really talk or text for a few days until I had a bad night on Saturday. My husband called me around 11pm. He started out talking about the kids and what they did that afternoon while they were together, but then he got around to the point of his call, which was sex. I had told Hank at dinner on Wednesday that Doug had been giving me “the look” the week before. You know that look that everyone has when they want sex. Hank laughed. He thought it was funny. But it really wasn’t. It meant Doug wanted sex. So Saturday night he finally called and got around to basically asking. I started out telling him that I didn’t think we should; that I wasn’t comfortable with it. He quickly got angry. He raised his voice and kept accusing me of having sex with someone else. He said, “You don’t want sex?! You always want sex. You were always the one who wanted it all the time. Who are you having sex with? You can’t go this long; you must be having sex with someone else.”