DIRTY SECRETa personal fantasy

of you and me

Chance Carter

secret edition

Copyright © 2016 Chance Carter

all rights reserved

this story is available to reviewers only

chance@chancecarter.com

email reviews to get the next part

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New facebook message.My finger hovers over the button. It’s from you.We don’t know each other. We’ve never met. We

have no friends in common.Who are you?I click on the message.Hi. Hope i’m not botHering you.I reply without thinking.not at all.I watch my screen, waiting for a reply. A second

passes, and another. I get impatient.I click on your name.View profile.The page takes a few seconds to load and I glance

around at my surroundings. I’m at a coffee shop. There’s a line behind me.

“Sir, are you ready to order?”

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“Sorry,” I say. “Just a coffee.”I grab it and take a seat near the window, my

phone clutched in my hand.Your profile has loaded.Wow. Just, wow.Your face, your eyes. They draw me in. There’s

something in them, some life, some joy. I’ve never seen anything like it. And your lips. Don’t get me started.

Can we say kissable?You’re so kissable. I could suck on that bottom lip

of yours all day long and never get tired.I feel a throb in my pants.I look around me, suddenly very aware that I’m

getting a major boner in a public place. It’s crowded but no one’s paying me any attention.

I take a deep breath and click again.View pHotos.Holy cow. I shouldn’t have done that. The very

first picture is you in a bathing suit. You must have just returned from vacation. The photo is only two weeks old.

You’re tanned. More so than in your profile pic. I can see the paleness of the skin beyond your tan-line, just where your bathing suit ends around your cleavage. I zoom in, trying to get a closer look at your breasts.

My cock throbs again, growing in my lap like a pole. I shift uncomfortably, trying to get the mound in my pants to go down.

Thankfully, no one’s looking at me.

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Good God, your breasts are divine. I stare at the screen, holding the phone in my hand like it’s a treasure. I’ve always had a thing for full, voluptuous breasts. Yours are just begging to be released from that bathing suit.

I imagine what they would look like if they got loose. They’d be paler than the rest of your skin, com-pletely white apart from the pink nipples in their center. I have to shut my eyes to get a clearer picture.

My cock stretches to its full length as I let my mind wander. There’s a newspaper on the table, left behind by the customer before me, and I casually throw it on my lap, as if I’m thinking of reading it.

Who are you?Why did you message me?I scroll through a few more pics. In each one, I

swear you get more attractive. In the first few, you’re in a car with some kids. I assume they’re yours. Everyone is smiling and happy. The kids are fooling around. I imagine one of them grabbed your phone while you were driving and started taking pictures. You have a nice little family.

In the next album, you’re shopping with friends. You tried on dress after dress that day and someone took pictures of you as you came out of the changing room. In a few, you’re inside the changing room, holding the phone up to the mirror. It excites me to see you in such an intimate moment.

In some older photos there’s a man. He’s good looking, but there’s a seriousness in his face. It seems

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strained. In the pictures of you and him together there’s a tension. He isn’t in the most recent pics.

I click back to your profile, holding my breath in apprehension.

relationsHip status: DiVorceD.My heart pounds.You’re single.I’m single too, I have been for years. I see my fair

share of action, but never have I come across a woman like you. The girls I usually get with are less mature. They’re really just kids. They have no idea how to give a man what he wants. No idea how to make him beg for mercy. Looking at your picture, your eyes, the subtle, mischievous grin on your face, I can tell you’re different.

I smile. I’m getting excited, getting ahead of myself. All I have is one message from you, and already I’m imagining sinking my cock into your sweet, wet pussy, making you gasp in pleasure.

I’ve really got to get out of this coffee shop. I’ve got a raging boner and it’s pushing so hard against my pants it’s starting to hurt.

I take a sip of my coffee and wonder how I’m going to escape unnoticed with eight inches of embarrassment sticking out in front of me. And then my phone vibrates. It’s you.

i work at sassy pages. you left your notebook Here.

Oh God. I knew you looked familiar. You’re the girl from Sassy Pages, the best romance bookstore in the

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city. I was just there, doing some research for my latest novel.

Thank God I wrote my name in that notebook. And thank God for you, finding it and looking me up. Three weeks of research was crammed into that little book. If I lost it I’d shoot myself.

My fingers dance over the screen.i’m sucH an iDiot. lol. tHank you so mucH.I wait impatiently for you to text back.no problem. you’re our best customer.I smile as I type, imagining your pretty face, flat-

tered to be your best customer. I do spend an inordinate amount of money in your store. I must be the only man in the world who reads ten romance novels a week.

i’ll be rigHt tHere to pick it up :)I watch the screen as you type your reply.i’ll leaVe it at tHe counter tHen. minDy will be

expecting you.My heart sinks. I remember Mindy. She’s a pretty

girl, nothing to be disappointed about. I think she’s in college studying romantic literature. In a lot of ways she’d be perfect for me. She’s definitely the type I usually go for.

But she’s not you. She doesn’t have the same depth. She hasn’t had the same life experiences. When I look into her eyes, I don’t see the same world of possibilities that I imagine with you.

wait? you won’t be tHere?I sip my coffee as I watch your response being

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typed. It takes you longer than usual. Why are you hesi-tating? Did you pick up on the little flirt in my last mes-sage? Are you looking for a way to brush me off? What would a classy, beautiful woman like you want with a tattooed writer like me, a guy you know has picked up half the customers in your store?

i’m Done for tHe Day, Hon. i’Ve got a kiD to pick up from scHool.

I smile. I know what you’re doing. You’re warning me. cHilDren alert! Do not proceeD! tHere’s no way you want to take on tHis amount of responsibility!

But you’re wrong. A couple of kids don’t scare me. Not when they’re attached to someone as delicious as you.

I type out a response.wHat time Do you work tomorrow?I wait. This time there’s no typing indicator. You’ve

seen my message, I can tell that much, but you don’t reply.

I check my phone at least a hundred more times on my way home but there’s nothing. Not even a smiley face.

:(Was I too forward? Flirting via Facebook message,

is that too cliché? Is that not the way it’s done anymore? I can never keep up with the changes in online etiquette.

I open my laptop and look at the sex scene I’ve been working on for my new book. I’ve been struggling with it for three days. Usually I can bang these out in a matter of minutes, my cock a raging boner the whole

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time, but for some reason this scene has been holding me back.

I just can’t get it right. Everything I try comes off sounding horrible. I may not be the best writer in the history of the world, but I should at least be able to turn myself on when I write about sex.

I sit there, staring at the words on the screen, but the only thing I’m thinking about is you.

In exasperation, I grab my phone and open Facebook. I type your name.

There you are.Still no message, but at least I can look at your

photos. Instantly my cock starts to bulge. You have no idea of the power you have over me. What you’ve got inside your dress, that’s exactly what I crave. Your volup-tuous breasts, your long, tempting legs, your delicious, womanly curves. I don’t want a stick figure. I don’t want girls who look like twelve-year-olds. I want a woman, and that’s what you are.

I take my phone into the bathroom, the picture of you in your bathing suit still on the screen. I open my belt and let my pants fall to the ground. My cock is rag-ing, begging for release.

I grab it in my fist and start pumping vigorously, my eyes glued to that line along the top of your bathing suit where the tan on your chest gives way to the paler skin of your cleavage.

I want to rip that bathing suit off you. I want to tear it to shreds and leave you naked, exposed to my

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sight, defenseless against my gaze. I want to throw you down beneath me, your back on the ground, and slide this rigid cock right into your wet pussy.

I want you to feel me enter you, my cock pulsing with desire, my body thrusting up into you. I want my cock to drive so far into you that you gasp with fear and pleasure, the two emotions mixed in an exquisite ecstasy of desire.

I want my cock to explode inside you, my cum crashing with such force you scream in pleasure, your orgasm completely overpowering you, drowning out all thoughts except the look on my face as I flow into you.

You shut your eyes so tight the world disappears, and the only thing in that darkness is my cock in your pussy, pulsing with climax, my lips on yours, my tongue in your mouth.

When you open your eyes, you see my face looking at you with such gratitude for the pleasure you have just given me.

I open my eyes.Oh God.My hand is covered in cum. I’m still clenching the

phone in my other hand.I look at your face in the picture. I feel slightly

ashamed of what I’ve just done.What kind of guy jerks off to someone’s profile pic

without permission?I wipe my hand and flush the paper down the toi-

let. Then I go back to my computer and write the hottest

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sex scene of my life. The word just flow. The entire scene is complete in less than half an hour.

All I needed was a little inspiration.I feel like celebrating, or at least, rewarding myself.

I pick up my phone and open my messages.You still haven’t responded to my last message. If I

write again I’ll have written two in a row. I don’t want to appear desperate but I can’t help myself.

can we meet?I click send before I have a chance to second-guess

myself.What’s your response? I’m waiting to receive it.message cHance carter romance on facebook

witH your reply.

DIRTY SECRETa personal fantasy

of you and me

Chance Carter

secret edition

email chance@chancecarter.com with your

reviews.

each review gets you more of the story!