SHE

CHADWICK'S POV

I watched the sunset paint warm colors in the bright blue of a warm spring afternoon. I faced the endless series of curves on the highway separating me from her, my hands moved with confidence and mastery to the controls of my brand new car, the same mastery I wanted to use on her body.

Our lives had crossed during a few minutes interview, but they were enough to make me understand that she was all I needed.
All I needed was her looks, the movement of her lips while she asked me some questions and her sincere, sexy smiles.And our lives have continued to intertwine among the billions of bits that every day run on the network, for months we had contacted by establishing an epistolary relationship almost dependent on each other.
The text messages soon became long phone calls.

After three months, a sudden succession of gazes and words just mentioned through the webcam had convinced us to meet.
She, just over thirty, had a stormy past, a life uphill to be built starting from what she had in her hands and in her head.
She had so many dreams.
When I thought about what we had built, I had the feeling of having stolen her sweet innocence.

A complicated intrigue of thoughts and emotions had overwhelmed me from the moment we had decided on a meeting. While I approached her I felt the doodles of a common thread intertwined between my heart, my stomach and my brain.

The roses placed in the passenger's seat filled the car with their perfume, and I couldn't wait to see her reaction when our eyes finally met.
The fear to not be liked, the fear of not being that charismatic character who sent her dozens of text messages every day, was in antithesis with the emotion of finally being able to send her smiles and attentions from very close.

I had planned everything with meticulous details, flowers, spare shirt, hotel room and time to organize our meeting in a city that wasn't mine.
I arrived in the early evening and took possession of the room paying for it double, hoping to spend a few hours with her after dinner.
Certainly mine was a vain hope, but I would never have hoped that things would then take place as it happened.

She came into my car at dusk, the amazement in her eyes for the flowers and mine for her sweet and intense look, framed the embarrassment.
She was more beautiful than I remembered

She was dressed in black and had a wonderfully pronounced cleavage that exalted her beautiful breasts and her skin seemed so soft and smooth, flawless on that night of full moon.

I asked her to choose the restaurant where she wanted to have dinner, because I had never been to her city and she chose one directly on the sea. I couldn't eat almost anything and however, the only thing noteworthy during dinner, was her smiles and her scent that turned me on even more than I was already.

At the end of the dinner, returning to the car, I covered her hips while I was a step behind her, I turned her around and with all the courage I found inside, I gave her a kiss that she didn't even mention refusing.
Her lips were tender and soft, inviting like cherries exposed to the May sun, which warms them and makes them very sweet.
I don't remember how long our tongues lasted to taste each other, but the effects on my sex were immediately visible.

I felt the excitement mounted in me, I could feel her pheromones inebriating my mind and the desire to make her mine was immediately clear.

We sat in the car and I kissed her to feel her taste again, and she told me the most beautiful words that I would have ever wanted to hear at that moment:

"You don't mean to take me home, do you?"

I think my pleased smile gave her the answer. I had no intention of bringing her home.