Hello,
I am writing in response to your ad on craigslist. I am a 26, SWF, clean looking for a similar situation. I'm assuming that what you are looking for is to keep this as anonymous as possible. That is no problem, as I would also like to remain anonymous seeing that I am a school teacher in the area and wouldn't want my students' parents to know what I am doing. It would be very embarrassing. I guess I didn't really need to tell you that since we are trying to stay anonymous. I just want to make sure that you know the idea of being discreet is very important to me as well. I am not very adventurous, so this is totally out of the box for me. I guess another thing you didn't need to know. I'm sorry; I tend to ramble when nervous. Ok, again, sorry to go on, but if you would like to meet to carry out this...arrangement; I am flexible with my time to meet. My evenings are usually free. Ok, that's all. Thank you for your time. Please let me know your thoughts.
- C
Sid couldn't help but smile at this message. Minutes after he had posted his "ad" he was met with a barrage of emails of women (mostly the age of 40 and over) who wanted to meet up for this one night of passion. The suggestions in their responses had made the tips of his ears burn. There was a LOT of hard up women in Pittsburgh. He had been worried that his email had seemed too formal and that it would not be appealing to a lot of women. This most recent email had been as formal a response as his initial offering. She sounded kind of like she was applying for a job. And yes, she really did ramble. Why didn't she just delete the parts of the email she was apologizing for? Nonetheless, she fit everything that he was looking for and was even around his age. Even if she was extremely unfortunate looking, the fact that she was young, meant all of her "plumbing" was probably intact. Sid quickly began his reply. His next game was Wednesday and it was Sunday night. If he was able to make this meeting happen by tomorrow or Tuesday, he would be in good shape to break his curse by Wednesday's game against the Rangers. Staal had texted him earlier in the night, letting him know he could use Marc Brussard, the trainer's house, since he was a single guy and was out of town for the week at a sports medicine conference in Phoenix. Sid would have a "neutral" spot for this to happen. If the girl ended up being cuckoo, he wouldn't have to worry about her knowing where he lived. Also using the ridiculous email Jack had set up for him during his time at Shattuck allowed for Sid to be completely anonymous, at least for the time being. Sidney tried to ignore the feeling in his stomach as he typed.
Hi,
Glad to hear this arrangement works for you. Would you be able to meet tomorrow at 9:00 p.m.? I live in Sewickley, PA, not too far out of the city. The address is 432 Branson Road, Sewickley PA 15143.
Thanks.
- S
Caroline had just set her iPad down on her bed as she began to unpack her weekend bag, when the alert that a new email had arrived in her email sounded. She scrambled back to the device and looked at her inbox. It was from an email address she didn't recognize: . Howie? God, she hoped that wasn't his name. Not that it mattered, right? She didn't need to know his name. Did she? Would part of saying she lost her virginity ride on the idea that she knew the name of the man that did it? Could she just make up a name? Couldn't she just make it all up at this point? Sighing, she clicked on the email and read the response. S. Ok, so his name wasn't Howie. Thank god. She had to be honest that losing one's virginity to a guy named Howie was nearly as bad as being a virgin. He wanted to meet tomorrow. That was so soon! Caroline's body quickly went on high alert. Her heart was beating a mile a minute; her skin was flushed and clammy all at once. This was happening. She had an address. She had an S. S was going to be her first. Taking a deep breath she ran over to her floor length mirror and gave herself the once over. She was still dressed in her lounge pants and the oversized OSU grey sweatshirt, her favorite outfit for road trips. Nice and comfy. What would she wear tomorrow? What would it be like? Should she dress up like she was going on a date? Would that look weird? Would S think she was trying too hard? Should wear just jeans and keep it casual? Would that look weird? Caroline's mind was running a mile a minute. None of that mattered. What mattered is what she looked like underneath the clothes. That's what she really needed to worry about. She peeled off the sweat shirt and pants and looked at herself again in the mirror. It was time to take inventory. Her feet. They were fine she guessed. Not too big. She had gotten a pedicure over the weekend with her girlfriends so her toes looked nice. Knees. Kind of knobby, but they were knees what could she do about that? Her thighs were average. Most of her weight lay in her butt. She turned around and looked at her ass. It was full. Not much she could do about that in the time period of 24 hours. Her tummy was round, a little more rounded after the indulgent weekend of sweets and booze. Her breasts. They were high in the bra that she wore. They drifted down a bit without a bra. Would she be able to keep her bra on? How would S want to do this? Would they be in the dark or in the light? Would she be lying down? Of course she would be lying down. This was ridiculous. She needed to relax. She looked at her underwear and what was under it. She had never done a ton of exploring with her body. She just wasn't that sexualized. She kept herself neat down there, but should she shave? Kirsten, Sara's cousin had gone on and on this weekend about how guys loved a "bare girl." Did S want her bare? Did S care? Did she? OMG, Caroline thought. This was making her crazy. She wasn't going to change anything. There was no time. She couldn't change who she was, she just had to make sure she was fully scrubbed down, shaved legs and brushed teeth. Everything else was just out of her control. Caroline changed into her pajamas and grabbed the iPad. She replied.
Hi S,
That works for me, thank you. I will see you tomorrow.
Thank you.
- C
Sid was checking hockey scores when his email alert rang. He clicked over to his inbox and saw he had a reply. Ok, she was agreeable to the plan. She was also very thankful he thought ruefully. Thankful, he was about to treat a girl like a piece of meat. She was probably pretty struggling and thought he was going to be some fantasy. Sid knew he sounded very egotistical but come on; he knew C would be surprised to see him. He had a pretty good chance that she would know who he was. Would she freak out? Would she want to change the agreement if she knew she was sleeping with the Sidney Crosby? Would she treat him like one of those screaming teenage girls he saw every time he took the Lemieux kids to the mall? Should he wear a disguise? This was all so ridiculous. He just had to hope for the best and expect the worst. His mom had taught him that phrase and it applied to a lot of things in his life. All that mattered is that this worked. That his game would go back to how it was or even better. Then he could feel good on the ice again and hopefully find someone to settle down with. All he needed to do was get tomorrow over and done with.
C-
Sounds good.
-S
Caroline looked at the screen. That was it. It was done. Looking at the clock that read 10:23, she realized that 24 hours from now she would be a sexually active person. Well, maybe sexually active for 45 minutes. Is that how long it would take? Caroline wondered if she would sleep tonight. How work would be tomorrow. Would she be able to concentrate? How much better she would feel in 24 hours. All she needed to do was get tomorrow over and done with.