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The BBS lovers wrote back and forth to each other, until they both had enough of writing letters. Both were married but not to each other. They lived over 1500 miles apart.

They both wrote to each other asking if they could meet.

They finally came to an agreement to meet halfway. He landed at his halfway point on Friday late afternoon, waiting for his lover’s plane to land. When it was time for the plane to land he got all nervous and excited. He heard them announce on the loudspeaker that the plane was coming in. He stood there very impatient looking for someone with a red rose pinned in her hair, she told him that she would have one in her hair.

She finally came walking off the plane with a big smile on her face. He walked up to her and introduced himself to her.

She was very excited when she saw him, her body tingled all over. They talked for a little bit and decided to get a room at a hotel. They checked in, and took the bags to the room, freshened up a little and decided to go get something to eat.

They went to a small place in town, ate and talked for about 3 hours. They were both getting tired and they went back to the hotel. He went in and took a shower while she sat nervously waiting for her turn in the shower. She was going to join him but didn’t want to seem to pushy. When he came out she went in and took her shower. She got done and went into the room, he was sitting on the bed with a towel around his waist.

She had on a skimpy nightgown that you could partially see through. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of her. She sat down on the edge of the bed and started brushing her long brown hair.

He moved toward her and took the brush out of her hand and brushed her hair for her. He told her how beautiful she looked and bent over her and started kissing her neck. She got chills all over her body when he did that.

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The rain lashed it’s cool touch across my face as I stared at the number on the front door. Anxiety and arousal lined my stomach with lead as I hesitated on her doorstep. I remembered when I posted my advertisement to Usenet last week, eager to meet a woman with whom I could explore my most erotic virgin fantasies. I’d always enjoyed honest sex but I’d never dared allow my repressed desires to surface. But now I had done it! I had advertised and now I was here, to meet a like-minded woman for the first time! My mouth was dry and I felt afraid as I pressed the doorbell. The harsh shriek of a buzzer made me jolt out of my reverie. The woman I was to meet was called Kelly and she seemed to be a lovely person via e-mail but she was obviously more experienced than I.

From behind the wooden door I could hear the rhythmic thumping of feet on a staircase. Through the opaque glass of the door I could see a female shape moving towards me. A sudden guilty image of my girlfriend passed through my mind. I loved my girlfriend but she was not interested in anything other than the normal, pedestrian sex that we’re familiar with. The lock on the door retracted with a metallic scrape and a smile greeted my frightened and wet visage.

“Hello,” she grinned, “You must be Jon.” I returned her smile nervously.

“Yes,” I answered pathetically. She was definitely attractive. She was not classically good-looking but well-formed and pretty. I felt a warm surge of shame as I thought how I must appear. My long hair was wet and straggly and the cold weather would not have flattered my proud nose, either! Kelly did not seem to notice and she ushered me inside.

She led me by my hand up to her bedroom and sat me down on the bed. I just sat there at first, watching her as I began to relax. She retrieved a towel from the bathroom and started to rub my hair dry. I could smell her scent as she stood over me.

“You’re a bit nervous aren’t you” she said softly.

“Yes,” I swallowed. Her left breast brushed against my cheek as she dried my hair. “I’m sorry, Kelly. You know I haven’t done this before.”

“Don’t worry,” she answered, “I like you.” My arousal at her and the promise of what was to come was rapidly overcoming my diminishing nerves. As she finished off my hair, I swept a glance across her bedside table. There was a tube of lubricant, a silk headscarf, a pair of handcuffs and a blindfold.

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When I met Jon he was just past chubby, melted down into a lithe boy who was starting to show signs of man. He was a young man the way a colt is part gangly animal and part magical apparition. He wore his awkwardness like a beetle wears its shell, to cover up the soft inside.

He was my highschool friend. He sometimes flirted with me, just to practice. I watched him hesitating on the cusp of growing up. If he had been more self-assured I would have been smitten, and if I had been any more self-assured I’d have taken him — easy, the way his hormones were trembling and threatening to spill over, like water from a glass. But I was not the one he chose for his first affair.

Mr. White had just been hired to teach at the highschool. He was on a three-year contract, and that was all the longer he would stay, because teachers like him are never hired back. He must have interviewed in his one regular suit — he’d never have gotten the job dressed the way he usually did, in old, old clothes, antique three-piece suits and wire-rimmed glasses and a watch and chain. He was hired to teach drama, of course — that’s probably why they let him slip by — and English.

He looked English, actually, like a headmaster at a shabby third cousin of Eton. He had bright, lavishly-lashed eyes and a mustache that curled. No one in our remote little town had never seen anything like him. He was like a time traveler who had taken a very wrong stop. He could not have been expected to have anything in common with a bunch of ranchers’ sons and daughters. Nevertheless a few of us had determined that we were not going to be hicks. We were over him like flies on honey.

Jon was skittish around Mr. White from the start, manic even. For about a week he joined the other boys, raving about what a fruit and a faggot the new teacher was. But by the end of the second week of school he had arranged to join three extracurricular clubs — the Thespians, the school paper, and a modern novel study group — so he could be near him.

On any given day Jon could be found before class, after class, and often at lunch in Mr.White’s room. I knew that because I was in the habit of dropping by at those times myself. Of all the students who clustered around the new teacher, I was the closest to understanding just why he seemed so odd. He was so completely different from any other man I’d ever known, in his eccentricity so sweet and strange, that of course I began cruising him almost right away. I was just learning that having sex with a person could teach me things about them and about myself, and I was sure Mr. White was a wealth of things I wanted to know.

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This is a story that is difficult for me to tell; but, Cindy has told me that if I didn’t tell it she was going to really do some damage to me. It began with our being introduced by a mutual friend. I had told him in a conversation we were having that I thought these stories of women beating men in arm wrestling, wrestling and boxing were hog wash. He had told me that he knew a woman who could make a believer out of me. Thus the meeting with Cindy.

She was beautiful and she certainly doesn’t look like one would think a strong woman would look like. She started out when we shook hands as our friend, I’ll call him Bill, introduced us. She began to increase the pressure of her grip as she smiled and winked sweetly and said, “I hear that you don’t think a woman can beat you at arm wrestling, wrestling and boxing. Are you already having some second thoughts ? I’m going to take your ego apart and put it back together like I think it should be. I’m going to really put some power into this little demonstration, not too much because I don’t want to break anything, yet.” And with that she did and the next thing I knew I was on my knees looking up into her laughing face. She let my hand go and walked over to the dinning room table. Cindy whistled at me and with the come hither gesture with her finger she motioned me to come over to her. I walked over and sat down where she pointed. “OK, big boy let’s start the lesson. We’ll go left handed first so your little right hand can recover some. Bill will count to three and start us off. My left hand is my weakest, but I promise you it will be way too strong for you.”

She was right. Cindy let me give it everything I could as she taunted me about being too weak for her. Then she slowly began to lower my arm down to the table. “I could have done that in about two or three seconds, but I wanted you to see that it wasn’t luck, or technique but simply that I’m much stronger than you are. Reach over here and I’ll let you feel what a solid arm muscle feels like.” I reached over and her arm was as hard as steel, and that was her “weak” arm. As if reading my mind Cindy popped up her right arm and said, “Now feel this baby.” It was larger and just as hard and I was totally demoralized. I knew this woman was just too much for me; but my male ego would not let me say so. We arm wrestled right-handed with the same results. The difference was before Cindy put my arm all the way down she increased the pressure of her grip and said, “Let’s hear you beg me to not make pulp out of your hand and to please put your arm down.”

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She was small, and somehow childlike even though her eyes were wise and her gait determined. A casual observer would notice the grace in her step, and admire the resoluteness in the pose of her head; she seemed to be searching for something, but gave the impression its find would be unexpected. Like a sleepwalker, perhaps, or just a solemn little girl playing hide-and-seek with an imaginary friend. Soft, shimmering folds of cloth fell in a swirl from her almost too-high Imperial neckline. She was long-limbed but short-waisted and favored this style for its complementary treatment of this imperfection. Her grey eyes widened as she caught a glimpse of herself in the glossy surface of the domed metal corridor, and her pensive look spoke volumes on her self-esteem. Her lips were next to widen as a tall figure moved into view directly behind her.

“Oh, sir, I hadn’t expected to see you…you startled me,” she lilted delicately in a surprisingly mature tone.

“I can see that.” smiled the older, silver-haired man whom she turned to face. “I’d been told you were looking for me, so I decided to shorten your trip. Would you prefer the lounge, or is my office more suited to the matter?”

“The lounge would be alright, I suppose. It’s nothing of any real urgency, but I thought you might like to hear this from me, first; it is my assignment, after all.” she smiled in return.

“Cut! Okay, we’ve been here long enough for tonight, and that’s a wrap for this scene. We’ll pick up at 9 am with the re-shoot of scene 2 — that footage doesn’t look as good as it could. Remember, everybody, plenty of sleep and be ready for another full day of shooting tomorrow. We’re doing good and we’re staying on schedule, let’s keep it up!” The director stood as he said this and the crew began breaking up the equipment. The actors gathered belongings, hoping to change in their trailers and have enough time to beat the late traffic; the two on stage allowed their characters to leave them, slowly.

“Amelia, you’re doing a wonderful job. It’s amazing to me that you’ve never filmed before! Stage actors are rarely this poised when it comes to making movies.”

“Yes, well, it’s new but it’s fun. I’ve been told I’m a natural,” she replied with the nonchalance of someone who’s not sure she’s really been paid a compliment, “but I think it’s just luck: good luck to have my foundering ego boosted by some of the best actors in the business.”

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