Chapter 3: A Dream Of White Horses, Part 3, Freaks?

“You can ask.”

“Is Debbie really your name?”

“No, of course not. On a dating site like that, do you think I’m going to hand out my details to anyone before I’ve had a chance to meet up and eyeball them?”

“Very sensible. It’s quite dangerous doing what you’re doing, especially for a woman.”

“I’m careful. I follow the rules. No name. No address. Meet in a public place...”

“I’m pleased to hear it. Have you encountered any...?” He hesitates.

“Freaks? Looneys? Yes, a few. Most of them I manage to weed out at the e-mail and messaging stage. Only one got past my first defences so that so that I actually met him...”

He looks intrigued. “Really? And...”

“We’d talked on the phone a couple of times before we agreed on a date. He had a beautiful speaking voice, all honey and cream. Y’know, a Richard Burton, or Morgan Freeman, or Alan Rickman kind of voice. But when I met him, I knew instantly that there was something wrong...”

He cocks his head. “Instantly? How?”

“It’s hard to describe. Something in his body language. I made a point of sitting on the opposite side of the table from him, but he moved across, all but pinned me into my seat. He kept coming too close, invading my space... And there was something about the way he looked at me. Too... oh, I don’t know... Too eager... He made my flesh crawl.”

“What did you do?”

“I sat with him for a polite hour; had a polite couple of non-alcoholic drinks, said graciously that it had been nice... which it hadn’t... and we must do this again sometime... which I was lying about... Then I got in my car and drove off, determined never to see him again.”

“So, you never found out if he was really a screwball, or if it was just your imagination?”

“Oh, I found out. He was completely unzipped. Although he didn’t have my real name or where I lived, he did have my mobile number. The messages started coming in within five minutes of me leaving. They were polite enough at first, but when I said that it didn’t feel right and I didn’t want to see him again, they got first nasty, then strange...”

“In what way, strange?”

“Um, he started sending me very graphic descriptions of what he wanted to do with me. And some of them were... odd; revolting actually. I’m pretty broadminded, but I wasn’t interested in going the places his mind roamed. I don’t know if he imagined it was some kind of seduction technique, but it felt like stalking... I changed my phone number in the end... Um, do you mind if we change the subject...”

“Of course. Not at all. But after an experience like that, you still do this?”

I shrug it off. “Not everyone’s like him. And I’m not afraid of men in general. I just exercise a bit of judgement.”

“You trust your own judgement for this? How do you know that a man you meet like this isn’t a psycho in disguise? Me, for example?”

“How do any of us know that? How do you know that the woman you meet in the theatre, or the library didn’t just walk out of ‘Play Misty for Me’ or ‘Fatal Attraction’? Me for example?”

He grins, nodding. “Point taken. I exercise my judgement... So...”

“So...?”

“So, if you and I hooked up, this would be strictly a casual thing. You’re not husband-hunting? Looking for a partner or long-term relationship?”

“Nope. Not me. I don’t want to be tied at the hip. I like a bit of fun a couple of times a week, and then my own life back.”

“So, no dreams of white horses then?”

“White horses?”

“Bearing princes in shining armour, come to carry you off for happily-ever-afters in some far away kingdom?”

I laugh. “Not me.”

He nods. “And would this be, um... exclusive?” he asks.

“Your profile says you just want to pass by every few weeks... and you want exclusive?”

“I didn’t say I wanted it. I’m just trying to establish the guidelines; what you would expect of me.” His eyes are dark, thoughtful.

And he’s asking all the right questions.

He really is amazingly good looking.

My imagination is going into overdrive...

Ryan... his weight on top of me... my legs wrapped around his hips... he, sliding down my body, his lips grazing my belly as he moves to go down on me...

His tongue over my clit...

...in my pussy...

I’m drawn back outside my head. He’s still talking.

“... I’m trying to choose my words carefully, because... well... even though we’ve met in the way we have, through a sex-chat site... I’m very conscious that I’m a stranger to you and I’m trying to, er, get to the core of things without scaring you off or weirding you out.”

I suck my cheeks in against a smile. “You think you might weird me out? Ryan, believe me, you’re not in the running for that.”

“I’m not? I wasn’t sure. I’ve never done anything quite like this before... Do you do this a lot?”

“I do it all the time.”

“You have other...” He struggles for the word.

“Fuck-buddies? Friends with benefits? Yes, I do.”

“Friends with benefits? Friends, plural? More than one?”

“Yes.”

“How many?”

“They come and go. Right now, there are two others.”

I see him digesting that, then, “Let’s cut to the chase.” he says. “Are you interested? If you want to say No, that’s fine. We’ll enjoy the rest of the meal together and be friends without benefits at the end of it...”

I chuckle. “Oh, no... No need for that... I’m interested.”

“Ah... good.” His expression changes completely, from politely attentive to... what...? I can’t quite read him. “That, er... that puts a different light on the evening...”

He sucks his bottom lip, apparently deep in thought.

You can suck me too...