WARNING: More masturbatory sequences below. But again- it pretty much is what this story is about, at least for now, so if you don't like the idea of masturbation...this story isn't for you.

Enjoy!

Sarah watched as "Isolar" logged off, leaving her at the desk perplexed as ever. She scoffed at the whole situation and sat up to stretch her limbs from having sat there for a while and shook off her arousal. She walked away from the computer with a sense that somehow Ericka's cousin seemed so familiar. Why did she feel that way? She knew didn't know him. He was just a stranger who she'd never met before. A stranger who oddly enough called her "precious" and the way he spoke reminded her of…

"No, no way," Sarah said out loud.

She didn't even want to think about it. She shook her head and told herself it was her paranoia getting the best of her. She decided to not dwell too much on it.

Walking away from her hot and heavy session with Mr. Enigmatic gave her time to begin pondering other things – like her research and potential job offerings, should she get any. She really hoped that at least one company reached out and allowed her the chance for an interview. Though having a multitude of odd jobs and "Cocktail Server/Hostess at a lounge" on her resume made her worry that no one would take her seriously. She hardly took herself seriously. She just nearly had cybersex with a stranger for crying out loud!

That's when her thoughts strayed back to Isolar. She still didn't even know his name. They'd shared an intimate exchange about her pussy and his cock, but she didn't know his damn name. Ridiculous.

No, more than ridiculous. More like shocking. What had driven her to continue the conversation when she'd known good and well that the safe move was to ignore his suggestive comments and questions? He'd been downright obscene and presumptuous. Most would even say disrespectful. And she had played into it. She could scarcely believe she'd been so foolish, or so bold.

Moving into the kitchen, as spacious and lavish as the rest of the house, Sarah dug into the refrigerator for the leftover chicken she'd cooked last night, trying desperately to ignore her physical response to the memory of what just happened. Like it or not, thinking of him had her body humming again. Her…voyeur. Her companion in dirty message exchange. Her pussy tingled at the admission.

You need a shower – a nice, cool shower. Despite the deep snow outside, the house remained warm from the afternoon sun having blasted in through all the enormous windows. Or maybe she was feeling warm for other reasons…

Once she'd eaten her chicken and salad, accompanied by a glass of Pinot Grigio, she placed her dirty dishes in the sink and headed toward the guest bedroom, to the immense marble shower. When she reached the oversized bedroom, complete with a huge king sized bed, Jacuzzi tub, and a large walk-in closet with mirrored doors, she stopped and looked around. She'd been sleeping in this bed for the last two nights, and she'd showered here this morning before she had her coffee and bagel. But all that had been before their online conversation, before she'd found out he'd watched her rub between her legs until she came.

Now she almost felt him here. She was sleeping in his bed, after all. And she would undoubtedly dry herself off with a towel that had once dried his skin, surely. Suddenly, a shower didn't seem like such a great idea. It only stood to make her all the more aware of her body, how sensitive it was feeling since last night, how ready, how needy.

"Fine," she murmured. "No shower."

TV. That's what she would do; watch some good old television. Sitcoms. Or maybe the news channel; there was nothing sexy about that.

When she returned to the living room, she paused next to a set of tall oak bookshelves, which held numerous literary classics, some random knickknacks, and picture frames. She remembered looking at family pictures yesterday morning, but then realized she hadn't even thought about whether or not she'd seen Ericka's cousin in any of the photos. Upon moving down to the lower shelves to inspect each frame, she was surprised to not see him in any photo. Not that she knew what he looked like, of course. But she assumed she'd be able to tell, and any male that was in the pictures certainly did not look like it'd be him.

That's odd. Sarah saw a few photos that contained Ericka in them, along with her parents, but again – no one who seemed to be near forty or looked handsome or powerful enough to be her perfect stranger. Just...ordinary and regular strangers instead. Her eyes kept grazing and that's when she fell upon a small framed photo on the shelf above a Hemingway collection. She gasped at the sight.

Two men dressed in suit and tie held up a gigantic gold plaque. Scrunching her eyebrows, Sarah was able to see that the award of some type read "Golden Owl Award." She couldn't make out the rest, for the font was too tiny, but she knew it had someone's name on it. Upon further inspection, she saw that one of the men in the picture was smiling and darkly handsome. As for the other man…he looked blonde and tall.

"You must be him," Sarah said.

She took the photo off the shelf to see if she could make anything out, but she couldn't even see the man's face; he was hunched over, and his longish blonde hair falling over his face. He was seemingly laughing, making Sarah think that something funny must have transpired between the two in this picture.

"Damn," she muttered, putting the frame back in its place. She was disappointed she couldn't get a good look at who she assumed to be Ericka's cousin. The only picture that might have had him in it, and she still couldn't tell what he looked like. If it was even him. Though if he looked anything like the brunette babe, Sarah only hoped he was just as handsome.

Sighing, she realized that even if she saw photos of him and knew he was some gorgeous being, it really had nothing to do with her quandary. It made it no less frightening and dangerous to exchange dirty talk with a man she didn't know.

She stood back from the bookshelves and let her eyes fall shut, feeling doomed. But then she regained her strength and told herself to stick to her original plan, which would be to just take a break from her dull and stressful life, find a job opportunity, and go back home to take it so she could make consistently good paying money and make something of herself. She padded over to an easy chair that sat adjacent to the sofa where she'd sprawled so brazenly last night, then reached for the remote and flipped on the big screen TV. Just in luck.

The world news was on.

After eating some dinner and having a few glasses of wine several long hours later, Sarah attempted to go to sleep. She lay in bed in her snowflake pajamas, tossing and turning. Like last night, the wine had left her more loopy than sleepy, but she'd fallen asleep anyway. Of course – that was after her little performance that tired her out.

Now here she was, unable to sleep. She couldn't resist shifting her gaze from the vaulted ceiling to the digital clock beside the bed. 9:54.

She tenderly bit her lip, trying madly to ignore the way her sex pulsed, begging for her touch again. Or his touch. Any touch, really.

"No, absolutely not," she grumbled, placing a pillow over her face. There was no way she could do what he'd asked of her. Last night had been bad enough, but to know for sure he was watching? And to reveal herself fully to him? Yeah, right.

Don't do it, Sarah. You can't. For God's sake, you don't even know his name!

Even so, she found her breath trembling and her belly clenching way down low as she reached to push back the covers. She threw the pillow from her face off to the side, hearing it hit the floor.

Maybe she didn't know herself as well as she thought.

"Fuck," she said, getting out bed.

It had been a damn long day.

Because unlike last night when he'd simply unzipped his pants, pulled out his aching cock, and jacked off, today he'd been stupid enough to actually wait, anticipating on what might happen tonight. It was a game he wanted to play with himself – and with her, too.

Now, however, his dick physically hurt. He'd floated somewhere between half-hard, and full-blown erection all day, through meetings, phone calls, and lunch with Derek, his friend with whom he was doing some important negotiations. His dirty talk with Sarah had truly worked him up.

Seeing and talking to her via webchat was something he never dreamt of, let alone see or talk to her again ever. Hell, it wasn't even he who invited Sarah to his home to begin with. His lovely cousin, Ericka, had gone behind his back and set everything up, trying to play matchmaker if he had to guess. Though he wasn't that surprised; he was the reason Ericka and Sarah were friends and she'd known all about their past. And probably his feelings.

Still, he pretended to be upset when his blonde and petite cousin finally told him everything, though of course…he really wasn't. In fact, he was giddy inside and couldn't wait to figure out a way to sit down and talk with Sarah to reconcile. Only now, he found himself in a completely different scenario.

He hadn't been lying to Sarah earlier when he said it truly was an accident when he saw her touching herself last night. After realizing someone was in his home yesterday morning, finding out it was indeed Sarah, and getting an explanation from Ericka, he couldn't help but want to take a peek.

Right before he could though, duty called and a wish-a-away occurred, distracting him. While waiting for the runner to get past a certain point in the Labyrinth, he realized he still hadn't checked on her. That's when he formed a crystal and found Sarah looking out the window in his home and walked back to the couch, where she began to touch herself. He couldn't help it; he'd become transfixed and ultimately…addicted.

Now, as he sat in his throne, waiting for her to show up in the living room through another crystal, a warm sea breeze from outside wafted through an open window behind him and he found himself look up at the clock ahead him, feeling as eager as a pathetic teenager getting his first peek at porn. And then he began to relive a few of the fantasies that had grown in his mind around sensual Sarah today at times when he most definitely should have been paying attention on his work, whether it be Above or Underground related. So much at stake every hour, and he'd been fantasizing about a woman. A woman who bested him years ago. A woman he didn't have any communication with ever since. But he felt powerless to stop – the images had simply kept invading his brain without his permission.

He shook his head to clear it and looked once again through his crystal, wondering where Sarah was at. It was a little past ten in Colorado now, but she was nowhere to be found. He sighed.

"Perhaps it is too dark to tell through this blasted crystal," he tried convincing himself.

Standing up, he apparated to his Malibu home Aboveground, where he stormed to his computer desk. He rushed to move the mouse and light up the monitor screen, then clicked on the icon for the webcam at the home Sarah was currently in.

The living room was empty, dark but for the pale illumination provided by the snow outside the wall of window's adjacent to the computer there. He could feel his heart falling. His cock almost deflated. He was so sure she would be there, putting on another sexy little show for him. Or at least…who Sarah thought he was. Of course she didn't realize who she was really speaking with, or performing for, but clearly she enjoyed talking to some sort of stranger based on the way she responded to him this morning.

He smirked when he remembered hearing his name emanate from her mouth last night. Webcam or not, he heard the whisper from her lips as she came, reinforcing the idea that he needed to see her soon. But not yet. He wanted to toy with her first, and he'd been so sure she wouldn't be able to resist their little game tonight.

After all, she was alone in that big house, just researching all day – surely she needed some kind of sexual release. And he'd given her a forbidden and exciting way to get it! He was always so generous, and she so cruel.

As he focused the camera, shifting the lens about the room, the space remained quiet. Apparently, he'd misjudged her enthusiasm. Apparently…she wasn't coming. Maybe she did realize it was him… or maybe the thought of speaking to and masturbating for what she thought was a stranger was too forbidden for her.

"Damn," he whispered in the darkness of his other home. "How you turned my world, you precious thing."

Sarah looked at her reflection in the mirrored door on the closet, studying herself from head to toe. Her dark hair fell in loose waves around her face, which was made up with mascara and lipstick. The scant lacy red push-up bra plumped her breasts nearly to her chin, making them large and sexy. Below, she wore a matching red thong that clung so tightly to her mound that the fleshy rise already looked swollen with desire.

As she dug through her suitcases moments ago looking for a sexy outfit, that's when Sarah remembered the shopping bag containing the lingerie that Ericka had bought and secretly packed for her. A note that was accompanied with the shopping bag made Sarah smile.

Just in case you decide to give up the solitude and find yourself some ski stud. Love, Ericka.

Well, she hadn't given up on the solitude, nor found a ski stud, but she had the next best thing – a mystery stud with a webcam who wanted her. When all was said and done, she simply couldn't resist the excitement she'd experienced last night as she just pretended to be watched. Try as she might, she couldn't seem to deny herself the real thing. She remained afraid, but she also needed this. And that need pulsed through her veins.

So she'd given into temptation. For now, at least. She knew she may have regrets later, but in this moment, it was show time. And she wouldn't perform in cotton pajamas this time.

She took a deep breath and moved barefoot from the bedroom into the dark living room, then turned on the lights, but used the dimmer to keep them soft. She could feel his eyes on her instantly.

The very knowledge made her nipples constrict within the red lacey bra that held her breasts so tightly. As she moved to the sofa, she felt like she was returning to the scene of a crime. Upon sitting down, she gently bit her lip, looked towards the webcam, and spoke quietly.

"I wasn't going to do this…but here I am. For reasons I can't even explain." Then, with her jade eyes, she peered more intently at the green light indicating the webcam was on and imagined she could see him, eye-to-eye.

"Are you ready?" she asked.

She took a steady breath and envisioned him, drawing the vague image from the photo on the bookshelf. Sarah relied on her imagination to fill in the rest of what he looked like; he was blonde, that much she knew. In fact, his hair was probably messy in that sexy kind of way. He probably had blue eyes…was tall…lean, yet muscular…most likely had a marvelous package; held an arrogance to him that was sexier than it was annoying…

The thought of him nearly took her breath away. In fact, everything about this was utterly overwhelming. But she feared if she thought too hard about what she was doing, she might get scared and back out. So instead, she went with it, not thinking it harmful in anyway. So she simply…began.

She reached both hands up to cup the lower halves of her breasts. They were heavy, full, and round in her palms. She imagined her voyeur groaning at the sight of her touching herself for him and wished she could hear it. Wished again that she could see him, just like he could see her. But she couldn't force herself to say that out loud.

Watch me, she thought as she tweaked her nipples through the lace that barely concealed them. Massaging them fully, she wished internally that they were his hands, wished his cock really could glide in between the plump mounds of flesh right now. She slipped her fingertips into both red cups, lowering them just enough to free the beaded pink buds. Sarah felt her face redden and warm at the revealing of them to him again. She remembered how "fucking beautiful" he thought they were and toyed with her hardened nipples, letting the sensation trickle through her, all the way down to her quivering pussy.

Her hands ran down the smooth curvature of her stomach, sliding them over the lace at her hips, letting her fingers splay onto her thighs. Slowly, she parted her legs, letting her hands glide inward, both of them sweeping firmly over her crotch before drawing back to the panties' top edge.

She'd never known she could be so naughty. She'd never known such forbidden fires burned deep within her. But burn they did – hotter and hotter with each passing second, she discovered – until she rose to her feet, faced the camera squarely, then smoothly lowered her panties over her hips, down her thighs, pulling damp lace from in between, then pushing the thong past her knees. She felt the fabric fall to her ankles, allowing her to step free of them. At this point, she turned around and bent at the waist, bracing her hands on the back of the sofa, letting him look at her from behind.

Her instincts led her to bend one knee onto the couch, then the other, parting her legs slightly, arching her ass towards him. At that moment, it was the greatest part of her, filled with need and want; a raw hunger that knew no shame.

God, she wanted him back there, behind her, wanting to feel his masculine hands on her ass, his hard shaft pushing inside of her. Without even thinking about it, she looked over her shoulder, into the camera and said, "If you were here right now, I'd beg you to fuck me like this. Hard and deep."

A thousand miles away, he watched her, mesmerized, and spoke back to the screen even though he knew she couldn't hear. "So fucking beautiful."

His cock jutted from his open pants and his fist wrapped warm around it. He'd spent a few sad, lonely minutes thinking she really wasn't going to show, that he'd already gotten what he was going to get from her – and then, when he'd just about given up and walked away, there she appeared in that pretty bra-and-panty set, her hair and face done up to turn her into the sexual being that he knew she secretly was. All that waiting had not been for nothing. And now Sarah was showing him her pretty little cunt, telling him she wanted him to fuck her, and his whole existence in that moment became about good, hot, dirty sex.

He watched in pure astonishment as she turned to sit on the couch, parting her thighs wide, draping one leg over the sofa's stuffed arm to put her pussy even more widely on display. He feasted on it with his blue, mismatched eyes – so pink and open – wishing he could just appear and have his way with her. But he knew he couldn't. Soon though, he told himself.

That's when he heard the light sound of her breath, coming labored as she stroked one long finger through her wetness.

"Keep going, precious," he said quietly, pulling at his cock.

His own raspy breath joined hers, seeming to fill the darkened room.

"More," he urged her.

And it was almost as though she'd heard him. A wicked smile formed on his face as her middle finger began to twirl hard, rhythmic circles over her clit, now protruding so prettily from her slick folds.

"That's right, Sarah. Rub that pretty little cunt for me."

She did, thrusting lightly now as the first two fingers of her right hand extended down and into her parted flesh, while her left hand rose to cup one breast, squeezing. This encouraged him more, and all he wanted was to thrust into her, their two bodies intertwining passionately, the way it was naturally supposed to be.

But he couldn't complain. Sarah Williams had willingly, and somewhat unknowingly, surrendered herself to him in a way she'd never planned and admittedly never thought she could, and his cock swelled further with dark, masculine pride at knowing this show was just for him, for his pleasure, and hers. He didn't care at this moment if she didn't fully realize who she was doing it for her, and he supposed that's why she enjoyed this so much. Would it matter if she really knew, he wondered.

He gripped his hardened length tighter, wanting so badly so give it to her he could almost taste it. He kept his eyes glued to her gorgeous cunt, her bountiful breasts, the lost look of passion on her beautiful face. He could tell she was getting close, as she rubbed more intensely, gritted her teeth lightly.

"So close, precious. Come for me. Come for me now."

The circles she rubbed over the top part of her pussy grew faster, and deeper. He knew from the way she moved her hand, from the sweet agony that took over her face, that she was about to come. She was panting now, and then began to let out short, hot little sobs.

His chest rose and fell as desire tightened him, centering in his groin. His dick throbbed in his hand. And then she released a high-pitched cry and he saw the ecstasy in her expression- even with her eyes shut. As she rode out her climax, he knew he was going to come too, and exploded in long, intense bursts in his hands.

Sarah sat on the couch, still now, but her legs remained spread. Licking her lips, she looked straight at the camera, eyes glassy. Her skin seemed to glow from the aftermath of her orgasm, yet her expression made him wonder what lurked inside her.

"This isn't me," she quietly said to the webcam. "I don't know what you to do me. Whoever you are."

His chest constricted at her words. He hated that she didn't know who she was doing this for. He also hated that she didn't understand that this was, indeed, very much so her. But he loved being the person getting to show her.

I know what I do to you, Sarah. I get you hot. Hotter than anyone ever has. And I'm going to get you even hotter. Hold on tight, precious. This ride is just starting. I'm going to make you do things you've never dreamed of.

AN: And the webcam play continues!

By the way, if anyone is interested in knowing... I used the I.M. name Isolar from David Bowie's world tour in 1976. Sailor is derived from the word, just the letters spell out differently ;) Because you know, David Bowie dressed as a Sailor occasionally and I think that was even his username on his website? And, he was born in 1947, so yeah that's how I came up with those usernames for the instant message chats.

Whenever will these two meet, you're probably wondering! Soon. I promise. Gotta build first ;) I wonder how Sarah will react to everything, hmm.

Reviews make me happy! :D