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.

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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.